THE AMBUSH.
My friends,
That is not so. Sir, we are your enemies.
TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.
It was already near the fourth hour of the Roman night, or about a quarter
past eight of our time, when Paullus issued from the Capuan gate, in order
to keep his appointment with the conspirator; and bold as he was, and
fearless under ordinary circumstances, it would be useless to deny that
his heart beat fast and anxiously under his steel cuirass, as he strode
rapidly along the Appian way to the place of meeting.
The sun had long since set, and the moon, which was in her last quarter,
had not as yet risen; so that, although the skies were perfectly clear and
cloudless, there was but little light by which to direct his foot-steps
toward the valley of the Muses, had he not been already familiar with the
way.
Stepping out rapidly, for he was fearful now of being too late at the
place appointed, he soon passed the two branches of the beautiful and
sparkling Almo, wherein the priests of Cybele were wont to lave the statue
of their goddess, amid the din of brazen instruments and sacred song; and
a little further on, arrived at the cross-road where the way to Ardea, in
the Latin country, branched off to the right hand from the great Appian
turnpike.
At this point there was a small temple sacred to Bacchus, and a little
grove of elms and plane trees overrun with vines, on which the ripe
clusters consecrated to the God were hanging yet, though the season of the
vintage had elapsed, safe from the hand of passenger or truant school-boy.
Turning around the angle of this building, Arvina entered a dim lane,
overshadowed by the tall trees of the grove, which wound over two or three
little hillocks, and then sweeping downward to the three kindred
streamlets, which form the sources of the Almo, followed their right bank
up the valley of the Muses.
Had the mind of Arvina been less agitated than it was by dark and ominous
forebodings, that walk had been a pleasant one, in the calm and breezeless
evening. The stars were shining by thousands in the deep azure sky; the
constant chirrup of the shrill-voiced cicala, not mute as yet, although
his days of tuneful life were well nigh ended, rose cheerfully above the
rippling murmurs of the waters, and the mysterious rustling of the herbage
rejoicing to drink up the copious dew; and heard by fits and starts from
the thick clumps of arbutus on the hills, or the thorn bushes on the
water’s brink, the liquid notes of the nightingale gushed out, charming
the ear of darkness.
For the first half mile of his walk, the young patrician met several
persons on the way—two or three pairs of lovers, as they seemed, of the
lower orders, strolling affectionately homeward; a party of rural slaves
returning from their labours on some suburban farm, to their master’s
house; and more than one loaded chariot; but beyond this all was lonely
and silent, with the exception of the stream, the insects, and the vocal
night-bird.
There was no sound or sight that would seem to indicate the vicinity of
any human being, as Arvina, passing the mouth of a small gorge or hollow
scooped out of the bosom of a soft green hill, paused at the arch of a low
but richly ornamented grotto, hollowed out of the face of the rock, and
supported by a vault of reticulated brick-work, decorated elegantly with
reliefs of marble and rich stucco. The soft green mosses and dark tendrils
of the waving ivy, which drooped down from the rock and curtained well
nigh half the opening, rendered the grotto very dark within. And it was a
moment or two before Paullus discovered that he was alone in that secluded
place, or in the company only of the old marble god, who, reclining on a
couch of the same material at the farther end of the cave, poured forth
his bright waters from an inverted jar, into the clear cool basin which
filled the centre of the place.
He was surprised not a little at finding himself the first at the place of
meeting, for he was conscious that he was behind his time; and had,
indeed, come somewhat late on purpose, with a view of taking his stand as
if naturally during the interview, between the conspirator and the cave
mouth.
It was not, however, altogether a matter of regret to him, that he had
gained a little time, for the folds of his toga required some adjustment,
in order to enable him to get readily at the hilt of his sword, and the
mouth-piece of his hunting-horn, which he carried beneath his gown. And he
applied himself to that purpose immediately, congratulating himself, as he
did so, on the failure of his first project, and thinking how much better
it would be for him to stand as far as possible from the entrance, so as
to avoid even the few rays of dim star-light, which crept in through the
tangled ivy.
This was soon done; and in accordance with his afterthought, he sat down
on a projecting angle of the statue’s marble couch, in the inmost corner
of the vault, facing the door, and having the pool of the fountain
interposed between that and himself.
For a few moments he sat thinking anxiously about the interview, which he
believed, not without cause, was likely to prove embarrassing, at least,
if not perilous. But, when he confessed to himself, which he was very soon
compelled to do, that he could shape nothing of his own course, until he
should hear what were the plans in which Catiline desired his cooperation;
and when time fled and the man came not, his mind began to wander, and to
think about twenty gay and pleasant subjects entirely disconnected with
the purpose for which he had come thither. Then he fell gradually into a
sort of waking dream, or vision, as it were, of wandering fancies, made up
partly of the sounds which he actually heard with his outward ears, though
his mind took but little note of them, and partly of the occurrences in
which he had been mixed up, and the persons with whom he had been brought
into contact within the last two or three days. The gory visage of the
murdered slave, the sweet and calm expression of his own Julia, the
truculent eyes and sneering lip of Catiline, and the veiled glance and
voluptuous smile of his too seductive daughter, whirled still before him
in a strange sort of human phantasmagoria, with the deep searching look of
the consul orator, the wild glare of the slaughtered Volero, and the stern
face, grand and proud in his last agony, of the dying Varus.
In this mood he had forgotten altogether where he was, and on what
purpose, when a deep voice aroused him with a start, and though he had
neither heard his footstep, nor seen him enter, Catiline stood beside his
elbow.
"What ho!" he exclaimed, "Paullus, have I detained you long in this dark
solitude."
"Nay, I know not how long," replied the other, "for I had fallen into
strange thoughts, and forgotten altogether the lapse of time; but here
have I been since the fourth hour."
"And it is now already past the fifth," said Cataline, "but come, we must
make up for the loss of time. Some friends of mine are waiting for us, to
whom I wish to introduce you, that you may become altogether one of us,
and take the oaths of fidelity. Give me the dagger now, and let us be
going on our way."
"I have it not with me, Catiline."
"Have it not with you! Wherefore not? wherefore not, I say, boy?" cried
the conspirator, very savagely. "By all the furies in deep hell, you were
better not dally with me."
"Because it is no longer in my possession; and therefore I could not bring
it with me," he replied firmly, for the threats of the other only inflamed
his pride, and so increased his natural courage.
"By the Gods, you brave me, then!" exclaimed Catiline; "fool! fool! beware
how you tamper with your fate. Speak instantly, speak out: to whom have
you dared give it?"
"There was no daring in the matter, Catiline," he answered steadily,
keeping an eye on the arch-traitor’s movements; "before I knew that it was
yours, I sent it, as I had promised, to Cicero, with word that Volero
could tell him who was the owner of it."
"Ha, didst thou so?" said the other, mastering instantly his fury, in his
desire to make himself fully acquainted with all that had passed. "When
was all this? has he seen Volero, and learned the secret of him, then?"
"I sent it, Catiline, within an hour of the time I left the Campus
yesterday."
"Before coming to my house to dinner?"
"Before going to thy house to dinner, Sergius."
"Before seducing Lucia Orestilla?" again sneered the desperate villain.
"Before yielding," answered the young man, who was now growing angry, for
his temper was not of the meekest, "to her irresistible seduction."
"Ha! yielding—well! we will speak of that hereafter. Hath the consul seen
Volero?"
"He hath seen him dead; and how dead, Catiline best knoweth."
"It was, then, thou, whom I saw in the feeble lamplight with the accursed
wretch that crosses my path everywhere, the dastard, drivelling dotard of
Arpinum; thou that despite thine oath, didst lead him to detect the man,
thou hadst sworn to obey, and follow! Thou! it is thou, then, that
houndest mine enemies upon my track! By the great Gods, I know not whether
most to marvel at the sublime, unrivalled folly, which could lead thee to
fancy, that thou, a mere boy and tyro, couldst hoodwink eyes like mine; or
at the daring which could prompt thee to rush headlong on thine own ruin
in betraying me! Boy, thou hast but one course left; to join us heart and
hand; to go and renew thine oath in such fashion as even thou,
premeditated perjurer, wilt not presume to break, and then to seal thy
faith by the blood"—
"Of whom?"
"Of this new man; this pendant consul of Arpinum."
"Aye!" exclaimed Paullus, as if half tempted to accede to his proposal;
"and if I do so, what shall I gain thereby?"
"Lucia, I might say," answered Catiline, "but—seeing that possession damps
something at all times the fierceness of pursuit—what if I should reply,
the second place in Rome?"
"In Rome?"
"When we have beaten down the proud patricians to our feet, and raised the
conquering ensign of democratic sway upon the ramparts of the capitol;
when Rome and all that she contains of bright and beautiful, shall be our
heritage and spoil; the second place, I say, in regenerated Rome, linked,
too, to everlasting glory."
"And the first place?"
"By Mars the great avenger! dost soar so high a pitch already? ho! boy,
the first is mine, by right, as by daring. How say you? are you mine?"
"If I say no!"
"Thou diest on the instant."
"I think not," replied Arvina quietly, "and I do answer No."
"Then perish, fool, in thy folly."
And leaping forward he dealt him a blow with a long two-edged dagger,
which he had held in his hand naked, during the whole discussion, in
readiness for the moment he anticipated; and at the same instant uttered a
loud clear whistle.
To his astonishment the blade glanced off the breast of the young man, and
his arm was stunned nearly to the shoulder by the unexpected resistance of
the stout corslet. The whistle was answered, however, the very moment it
was uttered; and just as he saw Paullus spring to the farther side of the
cavern, and set his back against the wall, unsheathing a heavy broadsword
of the short Roman fashion, three stout men entered the mouth of the cave,
heavily armed with weapons of offence, although they wore no defensive
armor.
"Give me a sword," shouted the fierce conspirator, furious at being
foiled, and perceiving that his whole enterprise depended on the young
man’s destruction. "He is armed under his gown with a breast-plate! Give
me a sword, and then set on him all at once. So that will do, now, on."
"Hold, Sergius Catiline," exclaimed Arvina, "hold, or by all the Gods you
will repent it. If you have three men at your back I have full five times
three within call."
"Call them, then!" answered the other, making at him, "call them! think
you again to fool me? Ho, Geta and Arminius, get round the fountain and
set on him! make haste I say—kill—kill."
And with the word he rushed at him, aiming a fierce blow at his head,
while the others a moment afterward charged on him from the other side.
But during the brief parley Arvina had disengaged the folds of his gown
from his light shoulder, and wrapped it closely about his left arm, and
when Catiline rushed in he parried the blow with his sword, and raising
the little horn he carried, to his lips, blew a long piercing call, which
was answered by a loud shout close at hand, and by the rush of many feet
without the grotto.
Catiline was himself astonished at the unexpected aid, for he had taken
the words of the young patrician for a mere boast. But his men were
alarmed and fell back in confusion, while Paul, profiting by their
hesitation, sprang with a quick active bound across the basin of the
fountain, and gained the cavern’s mouth just as his stout freedman Thrasea
showed himself in the entrance with a close casque and cuirass of bronze,
and a boar spear in his hand, the heads and weapons of several other
able-bodied men appearing close behind.
At the head of these Arvina placed himself instantly, having his late
assailants hemmed in by a force, against which they now could not
reasonably hope to struggle.
But Paullus showed no disposition to take undue advantage of his
superiority, for he said in a calm steady voice, "I leave you now, my
friend; and it will not be my fault, if aught that has passed here, is
remembered any farther. None here have seen you, or know who you are; and
you may rest assured that for _her_ sake and mine own honor, if I join not
your plans, I will not betray you, or reveal your counsels. To that I am
sworn, and come what may, my oath shall not be broken."
"Tush," cried the other, maddened by disappointment, and filled with
desperate apprehensions, "men trust not avowed traitors. Upon them, I say,
you dogs. Let there be forty of them, but four can stand abreast in the
entrance, and we can front them, four as good as they."
And he again dashed at Arvina, without waiting to see if his gladiators
meant to second his attack; but they hung back, reluctant to fight against
such odds; for, though brave men, and accustomed to risk their lives,
without quarrel or excitement, for the gratification of the brute populace
of Rome, they had come to the cave of Egeria, prepared for assassination,
not for battle; and their antagonists were superior to them as much in
accoutrement and arms—for their bronze head-pieces were seen distinctly
glimmering in the rays of the rising moon—as in numbers.
The blades of the leaders clashed together, and several quick blows and
parries had been interchanged, during which Thrasea, had he not been
restrained by his young master’s orders, might easily have stabbed the
conspirator with his boar-spear. But he held back at first, waiting a
fresh command, until seeing that none came, and that the unknown opponent
was pressing his lord hard; while the gladiators, apparently encouraged by
his apathy, were beginning to handle their weapons, he shifted his spear
in his hands, and stepping back a pace, so as to give full scope to a
sweeping blow, he flourished the butt, which was garnished with a heavy
ball of metal, round his head in a figure of eight, and brought it down so
heavily on the felt skull-cap of the conspirator, that his teeth jarred
audibly together, a quick flash sprang across his eyes, and he fell,
stunned and senseless, at the feet of his intended victim.
"Hold, Thrasea, hold," cried Paullus, "by the Gods! you have slain him."
"No, I have not. No! no! his head is too hard for that," answered the
freedman; "I felt my staff rebound from the bone, which it would not have
done, had the skull been fractured. No! he is not dead, though he deserved
to die very richly."
"I am glad of it," replied Paullus. "I would not have him killed, for many
reasons. Now, hark ye, ye scoundrels and gallows-birds! most justly are
your lives forfeit, whether it seem good to me, to take them here this
moment, or to drag you away, and hand you over to the lictors of the
city-prætor, as common robbers and assassins."
"That you cannot do, whilst we live, most noble," answered the boldest of
the gladiators, sullenly; "and you cannot, I think, take our lives,
without leaving some of your own on our swords’ points."
"Brave me not," cried the young man, sternly, "lest you drive me to do
that I would not. Your lives, I say, are forfeit; but, seeing that I love
not bloodshed, I leave you, for this time, unpunished. Take up the master
whom you serve, and bear him home; and, when he shall be able to receive
it, tell him Paullus Arvina pardons his madness, pities his fears, and
betrays no man’s trust—least of all his. For the rest, let him choose
between enmity and friendship. I care not which it be. I can defend my own
life, and assail none. Beware how you follow us. If you do, by all the
Gods! you die. See, he begins to stir. Come, Thrasea, call off your men;
we will go, ere he come to his senses, lest worse shall befal."
And with the words he turned his back contemptuously on the crest-fallen
gladiators, and strode haughtily across the threshold, leaving the fierce
conspirator, as he was beginning to recover his scattered senses, to the
keen agony of conscious villainy frustrated, and the stings of defeated
pride and disappointed malice.
The night was well advanced, when he reached his own house, having met no
interruption on the way, proud of his well-planned stratagem, elated by
success, and flattered by the hope that he had extricated himself by his
own energy from all the perils which had of late appeared so dark and
difficult to shun.