MARSEILLES AND TIBER WHARF
We rode the first mile at full gallop and then slowed to an easy canter
which permitted of conversation. All the way to Calcaria we discussed our
situation, prospects and plans. We revised our previous view and agreed
that we had best not be too late entering Marseilles, as we might not have
time to buy cloaks, hats and footgear, change and get rid of our equipment
and find lodgings.
Then again, of course, we fell into a panic at the idea of riding into
Couriers' Headquarters and perhaps facing a dozen men who knew Sabinus
Felix and Bruttius Asper as well as we knew each other. We went over, for
the tenth time, a series of absurd suggestions and tried to conceive some
way by which we might sneak in at some other gate than that to which our
road led, might avoid delivering our despatches and might find ourselves
safe in ordinary clothes in some obscure lodging.
But we came to the conclusion that, it would be highly suspicious to act
otherwise than as genuine couriers would act. There was nothing for it but
to ask our way to Couriers' Headquarters, which would not arouse
suspicion, since couriers unacquainted with Marseilles must be constantly
arriving there, as green or shifted couriers did at all cities; to ride
boldly in; to take what came if we were exposed, to deliver our despatches
and stroll out for an airing if we had luck.
Even if we had luck so far I could not forecast our being able to buy
ordinary clothing and change into it without causing suspicion,
investigation, and our arrest and ruin. Agathemer argued that, if Maternus
could find, in Rome, a bath where we could bathe without anyone so much as
noticing our brand-marks and scourge-scars, he ought to be able to find in
wicked, easy-going Marseilles a shop whose proprietor would ask no
question except had we the cash. I was palpitating with panic and could
foresee in a shopkeeper only an informer, greedy for a reward for our
apprehension.
Agathemer asked:
"Didn't I get us out of our troubles at Tegulata?"
"You certainly did!" I replied. "To a marvel."
"Well," he pursued, "I have full confidence in my intuition and my
resourcefulness. I feel that I can get us out of our troubles at
Marseilles, if you will let me alone and not interfere."
"I certainly won't interfere," I said, "to spoil any chance you think you
see. If you see one, signal me and I'll let you use all your dexterity."
After that we rode evenly to Calcaria and even gaily from there to
Marseilles, which we entered about two hours before sunset of a mild,
fair, delightful afternoon.
The gate-guard took our questions as a matter of course and directed us to
Couriers' Headquarters. There we found only one very stupid Gallic
provincial in charge, with a few slaves.
"I," said he, "am Gaius Valerius Procillus."
And he fingered the package of despatches, eyeing us meditatively. I
quaked, but kept my countenance.
He eyed us yet longer, but made no comment, wrote out a formal receipt for
the despatches, handed it to Agathemer and said:
"Munatius will not be back here at Headquarters till tomorrow. So I cannot
tell you whether you will have a day or more of rest, which you have
earned, or must set off again at once. Nor can I tell you whether, when
you do set off, it will be back to Rome, or onward with some of these same
despatches to Spain or Britain or Germany.
"Make the most of your time for rest and refreshment. You are free till
tomorrow at sunrise. Dromo will show you your quarters."
And he beckoned one of the slaves.
Headquarters was a low rectangle of two stories only, built of some stone
like lime-stone, roofed with red tiles and set about a spacious courtyard.
The ground floor seemed mostly stables; but, besides the office in which
we had found Procillus, it had other office rooms, a common-room, and we
glimpsed a bath and a kitchen. Dromo led us up the stone stair and along
the colonnaded portico of the second floor to clean rooms, provided with
comfortable cots, chests, stools, and not much else.
We threw our wallets on our cots and sat on stools. As soon as Dromo was
gone we opened our wallets, made ourselves comfortable, disposed all our
money about us in the body-belts we had bought at Genoa and went out,
unopposed and apparently unremarked.
Through the lively streets of Marseilles, in the mellow glow of the
evening sunshine, we made for the harborside, Agathemer nosing the air
like a dog on the scent. Presently he remarked:
"We are not far from what I am looking for."
And he turned up a side street to our right. As we took turn after turn
each street was less savory and more disreputable than the last till we
were in a sort of alley populated it seemed by slatternly trulls and
trollops.
"This," said Agathemer, "is the quarter of the town I am after, but not
quite the part of it I want."
At the end of the alley he questioned a boy, a typical Marseilles street
gamin. The lad nodded and led us still to our right, doubling back. After
two or three turns Agathemer was for dismissing him. But the lad insisted
on convoying us to some definite destination he had in mind.
Agathemer displayed a coin.
"Take that and get out and you are welcome to it," he said. "If you do not
agree to get out and to take it, you get nothing."
The boy eyed his face, took the coin, and vanished.
Unescorted we strolled along a clean street, all whitewashed blank lower
walls and latticed overhanging balconies; in the walls every door was
fast; through the lattices I thought I discerned eyes watching us.
Ahead of us a lattice opened and two faces looked out. In fact two girls
leaned out. Their type was manifest: well-housed, well clad, well fed,
luxurious, loose-living, light-hearted minxes.
One was plump, full-breasted, merry-faced, with intensely black and glossy
hair, a brunette complexion and in her cheeks a great deal of brilliant
color, which I afterwards found was all her own, but which at first I took
for paint. She wore a gown of a yellow almost as intense as the garb of
the priests of Cybele in the Gardens of Verus. Its insistent yellow was
intensified and set off by a girdle of black silk cords, braided into a
complicated pattern, and by shoulder-knots of black silk, with dangling
fringes, and by black silk lacings along her smocked sleeves.
Her companion was tall and slender and melancholy faced, her hair a dull
reddish-gold or golden-red, her face without color and a bit freckled, her
gown of pale blue.
The black-haired girl called:
"You've had a long ride and you deserve recreation and refreshment. Come
in. We don't know you two, but we have entertained couriers before this.
This is the place for you."
"Ah, my dear," Agathemer replied, "we not only have had a long ride but we
may have to set out on a longer tomorrow, and you know the proverb:
"'Light lovers are seldom long lopers.'"
"If you were too much disinclined to being light lovers," the girl
retorted, "you'd never be strolling down this street. Come in!"
"My dear," said Agathemer, "we'd love to come in. But remember the
proverb:
"'Gay girls are not good for great gallopers.'"
"Oh, hang your proverbs," the girl laughed down at us. "I don't know what
you are up to, but I like you. You don't look as austere as you talk. And
I don't mind your asceticism. If you don't appreciate the entertainment
offered you, you can have any sort of entertainment you prefer. A goblet
of wine and an hour's chat won't enervate you or make you less fit. Come
in."
A horrible old Lydian woman, one-eyed, obese, clean enough of body and
clothing, but a foul old beast for all that, let us in.
Agathemer introduced me as Felix and himself as Asper. The merry dark-
haired girl was named Doris and her languorous comrade Nebris. A more
garish and gaudy creature than Doris I have never beheld. I was struck
with her profusion of jewels, mostly topazes, but also many carbuncles and
garnets; rings, bracelets, a necklace, a hair-comb and many big-headed
hair pins. Nebris was equally bejewelled with turquoises and opals, but,
somehow, they did not glitter like the jewelry on Doris, but partook of
their wearer's subdued coloring. As Doris remarked next day:
"Nebris is very graceful and almost pretty; but she was born faded, and
nothing can brighten her."
We found the girls housed in as neat, cosy and charming a little nest as
heart could wish for. The atrium was tiny, the courtyard was tiny,
everything was tiny. But it all had an air which put us at our ease and
made us feel at home. Doris, the dark-haired, red-cheeked, full-contoured
lass, was plainly much taken with Agathemer and he with her; I always had
a weakness for red-headed girls and felt genuinely pleased that Nebris,
her long-limbed, long-fingered, pale-skinned, blurred, bleached comrade
seemed equally taken with me. The sofas of the tiny _triclinium_ were soft
and comfortable and, after eight days in the saddle, without a bath, we
were glad to loll on them. The wine was good and, without any effort, the
four of us fell into cheerful chatter about nothing in particular. I
complimented Doris on her dwelling and its furnishings and she at once
insisted on showing us all over it: the kitchen, bath and latrine beyond
the tiny courtyard and upstairs a second _triclinium_, as tiny as that
below, and four tiny bed-rooms, with handsomely carved beds, piled with
deep, soft feather beds and feather-pillows. Doris and Nebris each had her
bed-room furnished to harmonize with her own coloring. I complimented both
on their taste.
In Nebris's room Agathemer spied a flageolet.
"Do you play on this?" he asked.
"Sometimes," she said, "but Doris declares that my music makes her
melancholy, it's so dismal."
"I'll play you any number of lively tunes," Agathemer promised, possessing
himself of the flageolet.
We all went down into the lower _triclinium_, where we had left the wine,
and Agathemer charmed the girls with his music and, indeed, enlivened me
as much as them.
After a score of tunes, while our first goblets of wine were not yet
emptied, Agathemer said:
"Felix, I believe I see a way out of our troubles."
"Asper," I replied, "I leave it all to you."
"Doris, my dear," said Agathemer, "we are not Imperial Couriers at all."
Doris stared.
"You mean it?" she asked.
"So help me Hercules," said Agathemer solemnly.
"Well," she meditated, with a sharp intake of her breath. "You fooled me.
I thought you were genuine. How did you come in this rig?"
"We belong in Rome, both of us," Agathemer began. "How we came in
Placentia is no part of the story. But we were in Placentia and we got
into trouble. It wasn't serious trouble; we hadn't killed anybody, or
stolen anything, or cheated anybody; but it was trouble enough and aplenty
and we decided to get out of Placentia. Roads, road-houses, the towns
wouldn't have been healthy for us just then, so we took to the mountains.
Not as brigands, you understand, but we hadn't much cash and coin will go
farther in the mountains than anywhere else; and the weather was fine and
we meant to camp out all we could and stay out all summer and let things
blow over. It was hot, burning hot and we blundered on a cave, a nice,
big, airy dry cave. We went in to cool off and sleep. And we slept sound."
Then he told our entire story, just as it happened, from our capture by
Maternus and his band, all down to Rome, into the Gardens of Verus, out
along the Aurelian Highway among the tombs, all about the two drunken
robbers, in the moonlight, all about our gallop along the coast, all about
our encounter with Pescennius Niger.
Nebris kept looking from Agathemer to me, her pale gray eyes wide; but
Doris kept her snapping brown eyes on Agathemer's face from his first word
to his last.
"My!" she cried, "you have had adventures! Or you are the biggest liar and
the cleverest story-teller I ever met. If you invented that story you
deserve help as a paragon among improvisators; if you had all those
adventures you deserve help ten times over and you certainly need it.
Somehow I believe you. I'll help you all I can. You are in the right
place."
And she called:
"Mother, tell Parmenio to find Alopex and bring him to me at once. Tell
him to be quick."
One of the slaves went out, slamming the door after him.
"Doris," said Nebris, "can you really save these lads?"
"I can!" Doris asserted.
"With Pescennius Niger after them?" Nebris quavered.
"Even with Pescennius Niger after them," Doris declared.
"You must remember," she went on, "that Pescennius told these lads he
would not expect to see them till tomorrow morning. That gives me till
dark to set things going and till about two hours after sunrise to finish
the job. Unless, indeed, messengers announcing the robbery of the real
Sabinus Felix and Bruttius Asper happen to overtake Pescennius at Tegulata
or between there and Marseilles. Even then he can hardly get on these
lads' trail before dark. I think we shall be able to get these lads away
safe, no matter what happens. Anyhow let's be cheerful and make the best
of things."
And she filled our goblets.
Alopex could not have been far away. Very shortly we heard the door open
and shut and a youth came in, whom Doris introduced as Alopex. A more
repulsive being I have never seen. He was of medium height, slender,
habited in the embroidered, be-fringed garb fashionable among Marseilles
dandies, his hair curled and perfumed, his face much like a weasel's, his
complexion like cold porridge. I then had my first glimpse of a Marseilles
pimp, and I never want to see another. To me he looked capable of any
meanness, of any treachery, of any dishonor, of any crime.
"Alopex," Doris commanded, "look these gentlemen, over and take their
measure, then go out and buy hats, cloaks, boots and wallets for them,
suitable for a sea-voyage, as inconspicuous as possible, durable and
water-proof. Get a porter and bring them back with you, in a bag, so no
one on the streets will know what the porter is carrying. Be quick."
"Six gold pieces," said Alopex.
"If you spend six gold pieces on that outfit," said Doris, "you are an
ass; you shall have six gold pieces, but bring back a reasonable sum in
change, after paying the porter."
I gave Alopex six gold pieces and he went out.
"When he comes back," Agathemer asked, "can he pilot us to a bath, where
we shall be as safe as Felix was in Rome in the bath which Maternus knew
of?"
"He can and he shall," Doris replied. "You two certainly need a bath: and
however you are marked by scourges and brands, the marks won't be noticed
at the bath to which he will lead you."
"How about a dinner?" Agathemer queried.
"Asper, my dear," said Doris, "you said you had plenty of cash."
"We have," said Agathemer.
"Then," said she, "just give me one of those gold pieces you got from the
two drunken robbers and while you are bathing I'll order as fine a dinner
as Marseilles affords and have it here ready to serve when you two get
back from your bath."
Alopex soon appeared with a complete outfit for us and the prices which he
announced appeared reasonable to me and were agreed to by Doris. He handed
Agathemer a gold piece and three silver pieces.
"Change," Doris commanded, and we took off our boots and put on those
Alopex had brought us. Doris had Parmenio bundle up our couriers' attire,
boots and hats and said:
"I hate to see anything wasted. These outfits are going to be found at
Couriers' Headquarters and no one will ever suspect how they got there.
You can arrange that, Alopex, can't you?"
"Easy as that," said Alopex, snapping his fingers.
"Then you do it," she ordered, "and now take these gentlemen to Sosia's
bathhouse and give him the tip that they are all right."
Alopex acceded sulkily but obediently. That bath refreshed me amazingly
and Agathemer seemed to enjoy it as much as I did. It was after sunset
when we were back with Doris and Nebris, but still far from dark; in fact,
light enough to see well.
"Now Alopex," said Doris, briskly, "make your best speed to the harborside
and see if you can find a sure ship sailing at dawn, with a captain we can
trust, to get these lads out of Marseilles at once. I doubt if you can
find one, but do your best."
"We want a ship for Antioch," Agathemer put in.
"Alopex," said Doris, "find a ship to get these lads out of Marseilles at
dawn, never mind where it is bound for. Now go. And come back and report,
tonight, sure, and as soon as you can."
When he was gone she rounded on Agathemer:
"Asper," said she, "I am ashamed of you. You are a fool. With Pescennius
Niger likely after you, foaming at the mouth, raging because he let you
slip through his fingers, you talk of picking and choosing a destination?
Why lad, it makes no difference where the ship is bound so it is
seaworthy, has a captain I can trust and is headed away from Marseilles.
The point for you two is to get away from Marseilles quick. Whether you
land at Carthage, or even Cadiz, makes no difference. You can reship from
anywhere to anywhere, once you are clear of Marseilles. You might linger
in Marseilles, under my protection, but for your encounter with Pescennius
Niger. But after that there is nothing for you to do but get away quick."
She paused for breath, shaking her finger at us, like a nurse at naughty
children.
"And now," said she, "let's get at that dinner. I'm hungry and I'm sure
you ought to be."
We were. And the dinner was excellent, much of it unfamiliar. The
Marseilles oysters had a flavor novel, odd, not agreeable at first, but
very likable after a bit of experience with it. Everything out of the sea
was tasty. The main dish was a wonderful stew of fish, for which, Nebris
told us, Marseilles was famous. It was flavored with any number of
vegetables and relishes, and had bits of meat in it, but fish was the
chief ingredient and the blended flavors made it a most appetizing viand.
We ate slowly, had just finished our fruit and Agathemer was playing the
flageolet to the accompaniment of enthusiastic applause from both girls
when Alopex returned. He reported that no ship could possibly be gotten
for us the next morning and vowed that it would likely take him all day to
find one for the morning after.
"Then run off, like a good boy," said Doris, "and get a good long sleep so
as to be fresh tomorrow. Start before daylight and report to me before
noon. Run along."
"How about lodging for us?" Agathemer queried.
Doris half chuckled, half snorted.
"Run along, Alopex," she commanded.
When he was gone she faced Agathemer, arms akimbo.
"Asper," she said, "I'm going to save you two lads, no matter how
idiotically you act or talk. I like you, in spite of your ridiculous
ascetic airs and your nonsensical assumption of austerity. You can't make
me angry nor lose my protection, no matter how rude and chilly you are. If
you two don't appreciate the kind of entertainment we are offering you and
haven't sense enough and manners enough to accept it and be thankful, you
can sleep here anyhow, where and how you prefer. But you don't go out of
this house tonight, nor yet tomorrow, not if I know it. I'm going to save
you two, in spite of your folly."
Naturally, after that, we stayed where we were.
Next morning, not much more than an hour after sunrise, as we were again
enjoying flageolet music from Agathemer, Alopex returned and reported that
he had found a clean, roomy, seaworthy ship, captained by a man well and
favorably known to him and Doris, which would sail for Rome at dawn next
day.
"That's your ship," said Doris to us.
"After what I told you," Agathemer protested, "do you seriously advise us
to set sail for Rome?"
"I do," Doris declared. "Any place on earth is healthier for you two than
Marseilles. Were you in trouble in Rome before you got into trouble in
Placentia?"
"We were," said Agathemer, "and trouble of the deepest dye."
"Asper, my dear," said Doris, "no matter what sort of trouble you were in
at Rome, Rome can't be as dangerous for you as Marseilles. And by all I
hear, Tiber Wharf is a fine locality in which to hide and Ostia nearly as
good. Take my advice and sail. From Rome or Ostia you ought to find it
easy to ship for Antioch."
"I believe you," said Agathemer, "but I'd like to have more cash with me
than I have and I'd like to give you two girls enough gold pieces to serve
as a sort of indication of our gratitude. No gold either Felix or I shall
ever possess would be enough to repay you for what you have done for us.
"Now I have an emerald of fair size and of the best water and flawless at
that, sewn into the hem of my tunic. Since you are so capable at finding
safe shops and baths and ships, perhaps Alopex could guide me to a gem-
expert who would like to buy a fine emerald and who would pay a fair price
for it and keep his mouth shut."
"I had not meant you so much as to poke your nose out of doors till
tomorrow before sunrise," said Doris, meditatively, "but Pescennius won't
be suspicious yet unless a post with news of the robbery you profited by
has already reached here. I fancy it will be a safe risk for Alopex to
escort you to our gem-expert. He'll pay you an honest three-quarters of
the full value of your emerald. Alopex and I get a rake-off on his
profits, as we do on the fare of the men we ship out of Marseilles. Gems
and fugitives are part of my regular line of trade, with efficient help
from Alopex."
Actually Agathemer was gone about two hours and came back with a portly
bag of gold pieces. He found us in the _triclinium_, Nebris lying on the
sofa with me, and playing a dismal tune on her flageolet, Doris on the
other sofa laughing at us. He lay down by Doris, spilled the gold on the
inlaid dining table, divided it into four equal portions, pouched one,
made me pouch another, and piled one in Doris's lap, while I similarly
piled the other in Nebris's lap.
"Share and share alike," said Agathemer, "and you are welcome to whatever
part of his rake-off Alopex turns over to you."
"Asper," said Doris, "you are a dear. Play us a decent tune. Nebris's
music makes me doleful."
We spent the day eating, drinking, chatting, napping and listening to
Agathemer's very lively music.
For dinner we had another Marseilles fish-stew, entirely different from
the former, and entirely different from anything I had ever eaten
elsewhere.
Next morning Doris had us all up, bathed as well as we could in her tiny
bath, fed and ready to set out long before the first streak of dawn
appeared in the east. Agathemer, on his gem-selling expedition, had bought
all we needed to line our wallets except food, and that Doris supplied in
abundance and variety and of a sort calculated to be palatable two or
three days out at sea.
Doris was a creature no man could forget. She was buxom and buoyant and
completely content with her home, her way of life, her friends and her
prospects; and as capable and competent a human being as I ever met. When
Alopex gave his cautious tap on the door and slipped inside she bade us
farewell unaffectedly, kissed me like a mother, and gave Agathemer one
sisterly hug and one smacking kiss. If there were tears in her eyes none
ran down either cheek.
Nebris, on the other hand, wept over me and clung to me, with many kisses.
"There are not many like you," she sobbed. "You are gentle and courteous.
Our friends are generous enough, but they drink too much and are
boisterous and rough and coarse. I wish you weren't going. But I'm glad
I've had you even for so short a time."
And she gave Agathemer her flageolet, holding it out to him with her left
hand, her right arm round my neck.
"Come, come!" Doris bustled, "act sensible, child!"
We tore ourselves away and followed our unsavory guide through the dim,
foggy streets. I distrusted Alopex and should not have been astonished had
he turned us over to a batch of guards, waiting for us at any corner. But
he led us to a fine stone quay by which was moored as trig a merchantman
as I ever saw, new and fresh painted. Her captain was a bluff, hearty,
wind-tanned Maltese, Maganno by name, swarthy, hook-nosed and with a shock
of black curls. He counted the gold pieces Alopex gave him and said, in
Latin with a strong Punic accent:
"My ship is yours from here to Tiber wharf."
We shook hands on it, went on board and she cast off at once and was out
of the harbor before the sun had dispersed the fog. To our surprise we set
a course not about southeast as we had expected, but along the coast until
we passed Ulbia, and then almost due east. Maganno explained:
"Give me the open sea. You Italians are always for hugging the shore: we
Maltese, like our Phoenician ancestors, are all for clear water. I've
sailed between Corsica and Sardinia, and once was enough for me. I've made
this cruise many times and I always prefer to weather the Holy Cape."
North of Corsica, in fact, we sped, with a fair following wind and we had
an unsurpassably fortunate voyage; skies clear, wind always favorable,
steady and neither too gentle nor too strong. Our time we spent on deck
from before sunrise till long after sunset, dozing through the heat of the
day; Agathemer, when awake, playing on his flageolet, more often than he
was silent, to the delight of all on board. The crew were mostly Maltese,
like their master, using indifferently their own dialect, Greek of a sort
and very poor Latin. Maganno's Latin was better than theirs, but all racy
with his accent.
When we were already in sight of the month of the Tiber he sat down by us
and said:
"I was told that you lads were in trouble. But, certainly, you are lucky
voyagers. I have sailed from Ostia to Marseilles and from Marseilles to
Ostia forty-one times, and this forty-second is the easiest and quickest
passage ever I made. I like you lads. Anybody Doris recommends I always
help, for her sake. I'll also help you for your own. Tell me your plans
and I'll do my best for you."
He agreed with us that both the Northern Harbor and Ostia were certain to
be swarming with spies and secret-service agents and informers: so, for
that matter, was the harbor-side of Rome along the Tiber: but Rome, being
many times as large as Ostia, was likely to be proportionately easier to
hide in.
"That's where a small merchantman like mine," said he, "beats any big one.
That's why I sail always a small ship, never a big ship. A big merchantman
must berth at Ostia or at the Northern Harbor. My ship can sail on up the
Tiber to Rome. And I shall. You come on up with me."
His advice seemed good. We decided to stay on the ship all the way up to
Rome, and we did, lolling on deck to Agathemer's piping in the mellow
sunshine.
So idling we spoke more than once of the Aemilian Sibyl and of this second
fulfillment of her acrid prophecy.
Maganno promised to find us a ship loading for Antioch; seaworthy, roomy
and with a trustworthy captain.
This could not be done quickly and, he found us, meantime, lodgings with a
friend of his, a fat, bald, one-eyed cook-shopkeeper named Colgius, who
rented us a tiny room over his eating-room, which was not far from the
Ostian Gate, between the public warehouses and the slope of the Aventine.
At his table we fared pretty well, for his prices were low, his wine
drinkable, and most of his food eatable, though we did not try a second
time the viands for which he had the briskest demand: a very greasy pork
stew of which he was inordinately proud, amazingly rank ham, and
incredibly strong Campanian cheese; all three of which seemed to delight
his customers, who were an astonishing medley of slaves and freemen:
porters, stevedores, inspectors' assistants, coopers, mariners, jar-
markers, gig-drivers, teamsters, drivers of all sorts of hired vehicles,
drovers who herded cattle from Ostia to the cattle-market, vendors of
sulphur-dipped kindling-splints, collectors of street filth and others
equally low in class, equally novel to me.
Colgius took a fancy to us and undertook to show us Rome. It struck me
oddly that, whereas Nona, in every fiber an Umbrian Gaul, and Maternus,
who had spent all his life beyond the Alps, had both, at first glance,
recognized us for what we were, Roman master and Greek servant, this Roman
of the Romans, keen for personal profit, habituated to the sight of men
from all ports, accepted us for Gallic provincials, and never suspected
that we were anything else.