THE MIDNIGHT PLOT.
The scene of our story is now transferred to the Palace of the Emperor
Galerius, one of the most sumptuous of the group of marble buildings
which crowned the Palatine Hill. It is the hour of midnight; and in one
of the most private chambers of the palace a secret conspiracy is in
progress, which has for its object the destruction of the
Christians--especially of those high in rank and influence. The lamps
in the aula and vestibule burned dimly, and, in iron sockets along the
outside of the palace walls, flared and smoked torches made of tow
covered with a coating of clay or plaster.[33]
Fausta, the mother of Galerius, and Furca, the high-priest of Cybele,
were already conferring upon their secret plot. With them was Black
Juba, who had just returned from gathering, at "the witching hour of
night," upon the unhallowed ground set apart for the burning of the
dead, certain baleful plants--wolf's bane, bitter briony, and
aconite--which she used in wicked spells and incantations. In her native
Nubia she had an evil reputation as a sorceress, and in Rome she still
carried on by stealth her nefarious art. It was hinted, indeed, in the
palace, that by her subtle, deadly potions she fulfilled her own
prophecies of ill against the objects of the hatred of her employers.
"'Tis certain," hissed through her teeth the spiteful old Fausta, while
murder gleamed from her sloe-black eyes, "that Galerius will not include
in the Imperial rescript that painted doll, Valeria. She exerts
unbounded fascination over him. It must be the spell of her false
religion."
"The spell of her beauty and grace, rather," answered Furca, with a
grin.
"What! Are you duped by her wiles, too?" asked Fausta, with bitterness.
"No; I hate her all the more," said the priest; "but I cannot close my
eyes to what every one sees."
"It is something that I, at least, do not see," muttered the withered
crone, whose own harsh features seemed the very incarnation of hatred
and cruelty. "If we cannot get rid of her under the decree," she went
on, "we can, at least, in a surer but more perilous way. Cunning Juba,
here, has access to her person; and by her skilled decoctions can make
her beauty waste, and her life flicker to extinction, like a lamp
unreplenished with oil."
"Yes, Juba has learned, in the old land of the Nile, some of the dark
secrets of Egypt," whispered, with bated breath, the dusky African. "But
it is very perilous to use them. The palace is full of suspicion; and
that new favourite, Callirhoë,--how I hate her!--keeps watch over her
mistress like the wild gazelle of the desert over its mate. It will
take much gold to pay for the risk."
"Gold thou shalt have to thy heart's content, if thou do but rid me of
that cockatrice, who has usurped my place in my son's affections,"
hissed the wicked woman, who still felt a fierce, tiger-like love for
the soldier-son whom she had trained up like a tiger cub. And Juba
retired, to await further orders.
"But if she die thus," said Furca, with a malignant gleam in his eyes,
"she dies alone. What we want is to have her drag others down with
her--her mother, Prisca; that haughty Adauctus, who holds himself so
high, and the rest of the accursed Christian brood."
"Yes, that is what we want, if it can be done," said Fausta; "but I fear
it is impossible. You do not know how headstrong Galerius is in his own
way; and the more he is opposed, the fiercer he is."
"Here comes Naso," said the arch priest. "He hates the Christians, if he
does not love the gods. We will hear his counsel."
"Welcome, good Naso," exclaimed Fausta, as the Prefect of the city was
ushered into the room. "We need your advice in the matter of this edict
against the Christians: how we may use it as a net to snare the higher
game of the palace and the Imperial household."
"We must be wary as the weasel, sleepless as the basilisk, deadly as the
aspic," said Naso, sententiously.
"Just what I have been saying," remarked Furca.
"Methinks we must employ the aspic's secret sting, rather than the
public edict."
"I declare for the edict," exclaimed with energy the truculent Naso.
"Let its thunders smite the loftiest as well as the lowly. It will carry
greater terror, and make the ruin of the Christian party more complete.
What is the use of lopping off the twigs, when the trunk and main
branches are unscathed? I possess proof that will doom Adauctus, the
senator Aurelius, and others who stand higher still. The Christians to
the lions--every one, say I."
"And so say I," ejaculated Furca, with malicious fervour; "but her
Excellency thinks that Galerius will interpose to protect one who stands
near the throne, though she be the chief encouragement of the Christian
vermin that crawl at her feet."
"Madam, he dare not," exclaimed Naso, with his characteristic gesture of
clenching his hand as if grasping his sword. "His own crown would stand
in peril if beneath its shadow he would protect traitors to the State
and enemies of the gods, however high their station."
"As head of the State," interjected the priest, "he is the champion of
the gods, and bound to avenge their insulted majesty."
"You know not what he would dare," replied Fausta. "He would defy both
gods and men, if he took the whim."
"An accusation will be made before me," said Naso, "which not even the
Emperors can over-look, against the Imperial Consort, Valeria, for
intriguing with the Christians and bringing their priests to Rome, and
conniving at their crimes against the State. We will see whether the
majesty of the Empire or the beauty of a painted butterfly weighs the
heavier in the scales."
"I will second in private what your accusation demands in public," said
the implacable Fausta. "Methinks I could die content if I might only
trample that minion under my feet."
"And I," said Furca, "will menace him with the wrath of the gods if he
refuse to avenge their wrongs."
"Between us all," added Naso, "it will go hard if we do not crush the
Christian vermin, even beneath the shadow of the throne."
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[33] Such torch-holders may still be seen on the walls of the Palazzo
Strozzi and in Florence and elsewhere. Torches of the sort we have
described were purchased by the writer at Pozzuoli, near Naples.
[Illustration]