GALLOPING
As the Gardens of Verus are north of the Tiber we had no difficulty
whatever in casting a wide circuit to the left and coming out on the
Aurelian Highway. All the way to it we had met no one; on it we met no
one. After striking the highway we walked along it as fast as we dared. We
should have liked to run a mile or two, but we were careful to comport
ourselves as wayfarers and not act so as to appear fugitives. The night
was overcast and pitch dark. We must have walked fully four miles, which
is about one third of the way to Loria.
Then, being tired and with no reason whatever for going anywhere in
particular, we sat down to rest on the projecting base-course of a
pretentious tomb of great size but much neglected. It was so dilapidated,
in fact, that Agathemer, feeling about by where he sat, found an aperture
big enough for us to crawl into. It began to rain and we investigated the
opening. Apparently this huge tomb had been hastily built by dishonest
contractors, for here, low down, where the substructure should have been
as durable and solid as possible, they had cheapened the wall by inserting
some of those big earthenware jars which are universally built into the
upper parts of high walls to lighten the construction. A slab of the
external shell of gaudy marbles had fallen out, leaving an aperture nearly
as big as the neck of the great jar.
As the rain increased to a downpour we wriggled and squirmed through the
hole, barely squeezing ourselves in, and found the jar a bit dusty but dry
and comfortable. We wrapped ourselves in our cloaks, rejoicing to be out
of the torrent of water which now descended from the sky. Also we composed
ourselves to sleep, if we could.
We discussed our situation. We had our tunics, cloaks, umbrella hats and
road shoes, but no staffs, wallets or extras. Agathemer mourned for his
flageolet. Between us we had seven silver denarii and a handful of
coppers; Maternus had given Agathemer four denarii, as he had me, but
early in the day, and he had broken one to buy two meals.
He said that Caburus had either feared to make an attempt on Commodus, or
judged that no opportunity presented itself. Of Cossedo he knew no more
than I. Caburus had turned him over to two ruffians to watch and he had
eluded them in the crowds and made his way to the Gardens of Verus
expressly to find me, if possible, and help me to escape.
He said that our coins could not be made to last any length of time. Nor
could we well beg our way so near the city. Our store of gems in our
amulet-bags was of no use, because, as he said, he was personally known to
every gem-expert in Rome. Perusia was the nearest town to northward where
he might hope to find prompt secret buyers for gems of dubious ownership;
Perusia was far beyond the reach of two footfarers, without wallets and
with only seven denarii.
We argued that, whatever happened, the wisest course was to get some
sleep. Agathemer declared that we could fast over next day and night, if
necessary, and that we had best keep in our hole till next night, anyhow.
I acceded and we went to sleep.
We were waked by loud voices in altercation. The sky had cleared, the late
moon was half way up, and we conjectured that the time was about midway
between midnight and dawn, the time when all roads are most deserted.
Close to us, plain in the brilliant moonlight, were two stocky men on roan
or bay horses. The moonlight was bright enough to make it certain that
they were wearing the garb of Imperial couriers. The trappings of their
horses, frontlets, saddle cloths, saddle bags and all suited their attire.
But their actions, words, accents and everything about them was most
discordant with their horses and equipment.
Both were so drunk that they could just stick on their stationary and
impassive mounts, so drunk that they talked thickly. And they were
disputing and arguing and wrangling with their voices raised almost to a
shout. Thickly as they talked, we had listened to them but a few moments
when we were sure that they were low-class highwaymen who had robbed two
Imperial couriers, tied and gagged them, changed clothes with them and
ridden off on their horses, but had stopped to drink, raw and unmixed, the
couriers' overgenerous supply of heady wine; two kid-skins, by their
utterances. Now they were reviling each other, each claiming a larger
proportion of the coins than he had.
Here was a present from Mercury, indeed. It was a matter of no difficulty
to crawl out of our hole, to approach Carex and Junco, as they called each
other, to pluck their daggers from their sheaths and to render the
highwaymen harmless, to pull them from their saddles, tie their hands with
the lashings of their saddle-bags and to gag them with strips torn from
their tunics; for they were too drunk to know that they were being
attacked; so drunk that each, as we dragged him from his horse, fancied
that the other was assaulting him and expostulated at such unfair behavior
on the part of a pal. So drunk were they that both were snoring before we
tied their feet with more strips torn from their tunics.
Like sacks we hauled them out of the moonlight, into the shadow of the
tomb and then stripped them except of their tunics, fitted on ourselves
the accoutrements they had stolen, and thrust them, trussed, gagged,
snoring and helpless, into the hole where we had taken shelter.
On horseback we rode like couriers, full gallop, passed Loria before the
first hint of dawn showed through the moonlight and, about half way
between Fregena and Alsium turned aside into a lovely little grove about
an old shrine of Ops Consiva, a grove whose beauty and the openness of
whose tree-embowered, grass-carpeted spaces was plain even by the
moonlight.
As soon as it was light enough to see we took stock of our windfall. The
horses were both bays and of the finest; their trappings new and in
perfect condition. Our attire was made up of the best horsemen's boots, a
trifle too large for us, but not enough to be so noticeable as to betray
us, or even enough to make us uncomfortable; of horsemen's long rain-
cloaks and of excellent umbrella hats, all of the regulation material,
design and color. In the saddle-bags were excellent blankets, our
despatches, legibly endorsed with the name, Munatius Plancus, of the
official at Marseilles to whom we were to deliver them; and our
credentials, entitling us to all possible assistance from all men and to
fresh horses at all change-houses. From these diplomas we learned that our
names were Sabinus Felix and Bruttius Asper.
This crowned our luck. We crowed with glee over the unimaginably helpful
coincidence that these diplomas should be made out for couriers with the
very names which we had chosen at haphazard at the commencement of our
flight and had been using to each other ever since.
The provision of cash was ample: besides plenty of silver there was more
than enough gold to have carried us all the way to Marseilles, on the most
lavish scale of expenditure, without resorting to our credentials to get
us fresh horses.
We ate liberally of the couriers' generous provision of bread, cheese,
sausage, olives and figs; well content to quench our thirst at the spring
by the shrine. Then we muffled ourselves in our cloaks, tightened the
straps of our umbrella hats, jammed them down on our heads, pulled the
brims over our faces, mounted and set off, elated, sure of ourselves, well
fed, well clad, well horsed, opulent, accredited, gay.
As couriers vary in their theories of horse-husbanding and in their
practice of riding, we had a wide choice, and elected to get every mile we
could out of these fine horses and not change until as far as possible
from Rome. We found their most natural lope and, pausing to drink and to
water them sparingly at the loneliest springs we descried, we pressed on
through or past the Towers, Pyrgos, and Castrum Novum to Centumcellae.
That was all of forty-one miles from the shrine of Ops Consiva and full
fifty from Rome, but, partly because we had to spare ourselves, as we had
not been astride of a horse since we crawled through the drain at Villa
Andivia, we so humored our horses that we arrived in a condition which the
ostler took as a matter of course, and it was then not quite noon, which
we both considered a feat of horsemanship.
At Centumcellae we ate liberally and enjoyed the inn's excellent wine.
Also we set off on strong horses. From there only the danger of getting
saddle-sick after our long disuse of horses and the certainty of getting
saddle-sore, as we did, restrained us. We tore on through Martha, Forum
Aurelii, and a nameless change-house, spurring and lashing as much as we
dared, for we dared not disable ourselves with blisters, changing at each
halt and getting splendid horses, our diplomas unquestioned. Thus at dusk
we reached Cosa, forty-nine miles from Centumcellae and a hundred and nine
miles from Rome.
We dreaded that we should wake too sore to ride, perhaps too sore to
mount, perhaps even too sore to get out of bed. But, while stiff and in
great pain, we managed to breakfast and get away.
That day we, perforce, rode with less abandon, though we both felt less
discomfort after we warmed to the saddle. We nooned at Rosellae, thirty-
three miles on, and slept at Vada, the port of Volaterrae, fifty-six miles
further, a day of eighty miles. Next day we were, if anything, yet sorer
and stiffer, certainly we were less frightened. So we took it easier,
nooning at Pisa, thirty miles on, and sleeping at Luna, thirty-five
further, a day of only sixty-five miles, rather too little for Imperial
couriers. Our third morning we woke feeling hardened and fit: we made
thirty-nine miles before noon and ate at Bodetia; from there we pushed on
forty-five miles to Genoa, an eighty-four mile day, more in character.
At Genoa we were for taking the coast road. We were all for haste. We had
ridden amazingly well for men who had not been astride of a horse for
nearly a year; we had ridden fairly well for Imperial couriers; but we had
not ridden fast enough to suit ourselves. From Cosa onward we had been
haunted by the same dread. We had imagined the real Bruttius Asper and
Sabinus Felix reporting their loss of everything save their tunics, we
imagined the hue and cry after us, the most capable men in the secret
service, riding fit to kill their horses on our trail. At Cosa, at Vada,
at Luna we had waked dreading to find the avengers up with us and
ourselves prisoners; at Rosellae, at Pisa, at Bodetia, we had eaten with
one eye on the door, expecting every instant to see our pursuers enter; so
at every change-station, while our trappings were taken from our weary
cattle and girthed on fresh mounts. So we were for the coast road as
shortest.
But the innkeeper, who was also manager of the change-stables, told us
that between Genoa and Vada Sabatia the road was blocked by landslides,
washouts and the destruction of at least three bridges by freshets. He
advised us to take the carriage-road by Dertona, the Mineral Springs,
Crixia and Canalicum. But we thought of the pursuers thundering after us
and anyhow we wanted none of Dertona, recalling our encounter with
Gratillus at Placentia. We took the coast road, and, though we had to ford
two streams and swam our horses over one, although we had to slide down
slopes and toil up others afoot, leading our horses after us, although a
full third of the road was mere rough track, like a wild mountain trail,
though the distance was all of forty-five miles, yet we slept at Vada
Sabatia, very thankful to have done in one day what would have taken us at
least three by the hundred and fifty-one mile mountain-detour through
Dertona, and still more thankful for the lonely safety of the coast road.
From Vada Sabatia the coast road was better, but still far from easy. We
were well content to noon at a tiny change-house between Albingaunum and
Albintimilium and to sleep at Lumo, seventy-seven miles on. Next morning
early, only six miles from Lumo, but six miles of hard climbing up a
twisty, rock-cut road, we came out at its crest, where there is a
wonderful view up and down the coast and out southwards to sea, and there
passed the boundary of Italy and entered Gaul. That night we slept at
Matavonium, eighty-four miles forward and but seventy-four miles from
Marseilles.
So far we had had no adventures, had been accepted without question
everywhere, had seen no look of suspicion from anyone, had encountered no
other couriers, except those whom we met and passed on the road, we and
they lashing, spurring and hallooing, each party barely visible to the
other through the cloud of dust both raised.
On that day, our eighth out from Rome, at noon at Tegulata, we had
adventure enough.
The common room of the inn was low-ceiled, I could have jumped and touched
the carved beams with my hand. But it was very large indeed, something
like thirty yards long and fully twenty yards wide, with two Tuscan
columns about ten yards apart in the middle of it, supporting the seven
great beams, smoke-blackened till their carving was blurred, on which the
ceiling-joists were laid. The floor was of some dark, smooth-grained
stone, polished by the feet which had trod it for generations; there were
six wide-latticed windows, and, opposite the door, a great fire-place,
with an ample chimney above and four bronze cranes for pots or roasts.
Each arm had several chains and actually, when we entered, four pots were
boiling, and a kid was roasting over the cunningly bedded fire of clear
red coals, the fresh caught wood at the back, where the smoke would not
disflavor the roasting meat. It was the most civilized inn we had entered
on our post-ride and spoke of the nearness of Marseilles, though every
detail of its construction, furnishings and methods was Gallic, not Greek.
Unlike our inns, where the drink and food is set on low, round-topped,
one-legged, three-footed tables, about which are placed the backless
stools or low-backed, wooden-seated chairs on which the customers sit, it
had, Gallic fashion, big, heavy-topped, high-set, rectangular, six-legged
tables with benches along their long sides, others with chairs, like those
at the ends of every table; solid, high-backed chairs, comfortable for the
guests, whose knees were well under the high-topped, solid-legged tables.
Agathemer and I took seats at the table in the far corner to the right of
the door; only two of the five were occupied, and they by but two at each;
plainly local customers. We told the host that we were in haste and asked
for whatever fare he had ready. He brought us an excellent stew of fowl,
with bread and wine and recommended that we wait till he had broiled some
sea-fish, saying they were small but toothsome, fresh-caught and would be
ready in a few moments. The fish tempted us, and, so near Marseilles, we
felt no hurry at all, for we meant to loiter on the road and pass the gate
about an hour before sunset, calculating that the later in the day we
arrived the better chance we had of delivering our despatches, as we must,
without being exposed as not the men we passed for, and of somehow
disembarrassing ourselves of our accoutrements and donning ordinary attire
bought at some cheap shop.
As we sat, tasting the eggs, shrimps, and such like relishes before
attacking the stew, which was too hot as yet, there entered two men in the
attire of Imperial couriers. Agathemer kept his face, but I am sure I
turned pale. I expected, of course, that they would walk over to our
table, greet us, ask our names, and like as not turn out intimates of
Bruttius Asper and Sabinus Felix, so that we would be exposed then and
there.
But they merely saluted, perfunctorily, and took seats at the table
nearest the door on their left, diagonally the whole space of the room
from us. Agathemer and I returned their salute as precisely as we could
imitate it, thankful that they had saluted, so as to let us see what the
couriers' salute was, for we had felt much anxiety all along the road,
since neither of us, often as we had seen it, could recall it well enough
to be sure of giving it properly, if we met genuine couriers, or, terrible
thought, encountered an inspector making sure that the service was all it
should be and on the outlook for irregularities.
The moment they were at the table they bawled for instant service, urged
the host, reviled the slaves, fell on their food like wolves, eating
greedily and hurriedly and guzzling their wine. We could catch most of
their orders, but of their almost equally loud conversation, since they
talked with their mouths full, we caught only the words "Dertona" and
"Crixia"; these comforted us; either they had left Rome before us and we
had overtaken them, or they came from Ancona or somewhere on the road from
Ancona to Dertona or more likely from Aquileia, or somewhere on the road
from it, or perhaps even from beyond it.
They disposed of relishes, boiling stew, a mountain of bread, and a lake
of wine, besides olives and fruit, in an incredibly short time, and then,
again perfunctorily saluting us, rushed out.
Our fish had just been served and were as good as prophesied. A moment
after the exit of the couriers there entered a plump, pompous individual,
every line of whose person and attire advertised him a local dandy, while
every lineament and expression of his face, his every attitude and
movement, equally proclaimed him a busybody.
He walked straight to our table, bowed to us and nodded to one of the
slave-waiters, who instantly and obsequiously vanished. Our new table-
companion at once entered into conversation with us, speaking civilly, but
with an irritating self-sufficiency.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I am acquainted with many of your calling who pass
through here, but I do not recall having ever seen you before. My estates
are near Tegulata and I am chiefly concerned with wine-growing. My wines,
indeed, are reckoned the best between Baeterrae and Verona. My name is
Valerius Donnotaurus; may I know yours?"
I kept my eyes on his face as I introduced Agathemer as Bruttius Asper and
he me as Sabinus Felix. It seemed to me that his expression was not
altogether free from a momentary gleam of suspicion; but my anxiety might
have seen what was not there, I could not be sure. At any rate he bowed
politely, asked me whence we came, when we had left Rome, and the latest
news. He commended our speed and our having overcome the difficulties of
the coast road between Genoa and Vada Sabatia.
The waiter, according to some subtle characteristic of his nod, brought
wine for three, which he assured us was wine from his estates, though not
his best, yet worth trying, and he invited us to drink with him. We could
not well refuse and we were glad to be able to praise the wine, which, for
Gallic wine, was really not so bad. Before we had finished our fish he
excused himself and went out.
We dallied with our food, counting on giving the two couriers time to get
away before we came out into the courtyard. But we learned afterwards
that, as we had shown our credentials and ordered fresh horses before we
entered the inn, the change-master would not give them the two best horses
which he was holding ready for us and had in the yard no other horses.
They had demanded our fresh horses, cursed him and blustered, but could
not move him and so were still berating him when Donnotaurus came out to
them. He, after introducing himself, asking their names and route and,
commiserating them on the poor supply of horses, had casually inquired
whether they were acquainted with two couriers named Bruttius Asper and
Sabinus Felix. On their answering that they knew both of them he had
chatted a while longer and then asked them to reënter with him the inn's
common-room, alleging that they could assist him on an important matter
touching the service of the Emperor. According to the change-master, who
told us all this later, they had complied in a hesitating and unwilling
manner, as if numb and bewildered.
We, dallying over some excellent fruit and the not unpalatable wine,
knowing nothing of all this, saw the three reënter together and approach
us, the couriers looking not only reluctant, but dazed: up to us
Donnotaurus led them.
"Do you know these gentlemen?" he demanded.
"Never set eyes on them in my life," one of them disclaimed. The other
nodded.
"I thought so!" Donnotaurus cried. "These men claim to be Bruttius Asper
and Sabinus Felix. You say you know Bruttius Asper and Sabinus Felix. You
do not know these men. Therefore they are passing under false names. They
are not Imperial couriers, but some of the scoundrels who have been posing
as Imperial couriers and using the post-roads for their own private ends.
I thank you for assisting me to expose them. It now remains to arrest
them!"
I had thought when the two entered first and saluted us that their
expression of face was queer; now it was queerer: they looked like some of
the deer we had seen in the net-pocket at Spinella, frantic to escape and
seeing no way out.
One mumbled something about having barely seen Bruttius Asper and Sabinus
Felix and not being sure that we were not they. But Donnotaurus neither
heard nor heeded.
"Here, Tectosax!" he called to the host, "come help us arrest these men!
They are bogus! They are shams! They are not couriers!"
"One man arrest two!" the host demurred.
"I only want your help," Donnotaurus bawled. "Call Arecomus and the
ostlers. They can make short work of it."
At this point Agathemer found his voice, and he spoke steadily, coolly and
firmly, even with a bit of a drawl.
"Don't do anything you will have to be sorry for," he said. "Better not
make any mistake."
At his utterance the two couriers were manifestly even more uncomfortable
than before. But Donnotaurus only bawled louder to the host.
"I don't arrest travellers," the host protested, "I feed 'em. Arecomus
don't arrest travellers, he horses 'em. Anyhow, there's no magistrate
here; talking of arresting is folly.
"And I wish you'd quit your foolishness, Donnotaurus. This is the third
row you've started here within six months. You're giving my inn a bad name
and ruining my trade. You're my best customer, yourself, but you are more
nuisance than all the rest of my customers put together. I'd rather you'd
move out of the neighborhood or keep away from my inn than go on with such
nonsense. I don't want anybody arrested on my premises or threatened with
arrest. And you've nothing to go on in this case, anyhow."
Donnotaurus appeared at a loss, but obstinate and about to insist, when
the doors opened and there entered a bevy of staff officers, all green and
gold and blue and silver, clustered about a huge man in the full regalia
of a general, his crimson plumes nodding above his golden helmet, his
crimson cloak dangling about his golden cuirass, his gilt kilt-straps
gleaming over his crimson tunic-skirt. There was no mistaking that
incredible expanse of face, seemingly as big as the body of an ordinary
man, those bleary gray eyes under the shaggy eyebrows, their great baggy
lower lids, the heavy cheeks and the vast sweep of russet beard.
It was Pescennius Niger himself!
As he was later proclaimed Emperor and narrowly missed overcoming his
competitors and emerging master of the world, the mere encounter has a
certain interest. Its details, I think, even more.
Up to us he strode.
"What's all this?" he demanded in his big, authoritative voice. Agathemer
and I stood up and saluted.
I expected Agathemer, who knew the value of speaking first, to anticipate
Donnotaurus, but he let Donnotaurus give his version of the affair.
"I'm competent to decide this," said Pescennius, "and I shall."
And he eyed us, asking: "What have you two to say?"
"In the first place," said Agathemer, "I ask you to examine our papers."
He took from the seat of his chair, where he had placed it as he stood up,
our despatch bag, opened it, and displayed its contents; the package of
despatches, our credentials, and the diploma entitling us to change of
horses, with the endorsement of each change-master from Centumcellae
onwards.
Pescennius examined these meditatively.
"These papers," he said, "are in perfect order. But they do not prove that
you are the men named in them though they incline me to believe it. I
should believe it, but these men deny that you are Bruttius Asper and
Sabinus Felix."
"And why do they deny it?" Agathemer queried triumphantly. "Why, because
they were caught by this busybody and asked whether they knew Bruttius
Asper and Sabinus Felix and they said they did; then haled in here by him
and confronted with us and asked whether they knew us and of course said
they did not, as they did not. And why do they not know us? Because they
are not couriers at all, but men passing themselves off as couriers. Our
papers are in perfect order, as you say. Ask them for their papers. They
haven't any!"
By the faces of the two I saw that Agathemer had guessed right. They, in
fact, were impostors. They had no despatches, no credentials, no papers at
all, except a diploma with entries from Bononia, through Parma, Placentia
and Clastidium to Dertona and so onwards; a diploma so manifestly a clumsy
forgery that, at sight of it, I wondered how it had fooled the stupidest
change-master.
Pescennius barely glanced at it. To his apparitors, he said:
"Arrest these three!"
In a trice Donnotaurus and the two impostors were seized.
To us he said:
"Gentlemen, I apologize for having doubted you, even for a moment. And I
thank you for having so cleverly and quietly exposed these precious
gentry. I shall keep an eye on them and on this local meddler; I'll
investigate them in Marseilles.
"Meantime I must eat. So I'll remain here. You are in haste and you have
eaten. Your horses are ready. I need not detain you. I'll see you at
Marseilles tomorrow. I congratulate you on your horsemanship. To have
overtaken me, even when I am travelling by carriage, is no mean exploit. I
am pleased to have made your acquaintance."
And he bade us farewell, allowed us to pass out, and seated himself at our
table.