But Fulvius did not come back that night.
When he and Crispus had passed through the Porta Vindelica, and had
turned into the Via Augustana, in which stood the church of Saint Peter
and the little house of the priest, they noticed Zeno, who was knocking
at the door of a magnificent building at the other end of the street.
It was the house of the Judge.
"He is using despatch," said Crispus. "It is well that we are already
here." And he touched the knocker, which in shape like a cross hung on
the small door of the priest's house.
"He will manage all through the Judge, who is his son-in-law," said
Fulvius, anxiously.
"And deeply indebted to the usurer. That holds everything together,
like sticky mud."
The door was opened, and a slave led them through a long, narrow
passage, dimly lighted by an oil lamp in a little niche in the wall, to
the room of the priest; drew back the curtain, and ushered in the two
guests.
The half-dark room was almost void of furniture: the lid of a large
chest served as a table, on it stood writing materials; on the walls
one saw a lamb, a fish, a dove, very roughly sketched and painted a red
colour.
Johannes, although in conversation with two priests, immediately turned
towards them; a meagre form, upright, in spite of his seventy years, by
the force of a strong, enthusiastic will; a gray Capuchin dress, tied
round the loins with a cord, was all his attire; a silver ring of white
hair, which shone like a nimbus, encircled his head. A long white beard
fell low on his breast.
"A moment's patience, dear friends," said he. "The business of my
brothers here is urgent; you see, they have the traveller's hat and
staff--but it will soon be concluded. Thou, Timotheus, wilt return
to-night to thy post. It is well that thou hast given the warning; but
only the hireling forsakes his flock, the good shepherd remains
constant to it."
"I go," said the one addressed, a young subdeacon, blushing quite
abashed: "I certainly did not wish to run away from the barbarians--I
only wished"----
"To give a warning, certainly. And then, perhaps, the spirit of
cowardice suggested this to thee--that Johannes would keep thee here
within the safe walls of this fortress. But I say to thee: 'Except the
Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.' And if the
troubles of war come over the poor people out there, thy consolations
will be needed. Go with God, my son, back to thy cell at Isunisca."
"Are the barbarians already so near?" cried Crispus, alarmed.
"Apparently; at least, brother Timotheus heard, three nights ago,
horsemen ride by his cell with unshod steeds. Those were not Romans."
"They were the night-riders, the gods of the heathen, led by Wotan, the
devil chief, whom our fathers named Teutates, but the Romans
Mercurius," said Bojorix, the deacon, an older man, and he trembled for
fear.
"Hardly," said Johannes, with a quiet smile, "for afterwards in clear
day, one of these night-phantoms, with a long flowing gray beard, and
clad in a wolf's skin, dashed into a company of armed merchants at the
bridge across the Inn, seized the largest wine-skin from the waggon,
threw it on his horse, and rode away. Spectres do not drink this year's
Raeter wine. This news from the _west_ disturbs me less than the absence
of news from the _east_--from Ovilava and Lentia! There certainly came
from there, through the Porta Latina, a few peasants into the market;
but I did not know them: I was suspicious of them. Well, we stand in
the protection of the Lord, in the rising as in the setting of the sun!
But thou, Stephen"----
But he who was addressed heard not.
Gently rebuking him, the Presbyter took hold of his garment: "Stephen,
Stephen, dost thou still understand only the barbarian name Bojorix?
Thou, my Stephen, say to the children of the widow at Foutes: I will
pledge the silver vessels of the church, keeping back only one for use,
and with the proceeds satisfy the money-lender, and save her from
slavery. I will bring the money to-morrow, or the day following."
"O, sir, they are so anxious. Why not tonight?"
"To-night I must bind afresh the wounds of the poor leprous Jew, whom
the doctors will no more touch, and watch by him. Go now, both of you,
my brethren: and may the Angel of the Lord who led Tobias hover around
your traveller's staff. Fear not, although it is night: you walk in
light."
Reverently saluting, they departed; Johannes refused the kiss that they
wished to press on his hand.
"And now to you, my friends," said he; "what can I do for you?"
With haste and excitement, each supplementing the other, they laid
their anxieties before the priest; he listened gravely, attentively.
"It is," said he then, "as my dear penitent has said. Krates, the
master, set free the parents and the child: before me, in this
Basilica."
"Oh, then we are safe from that base man!" rejoiced Fulvius.
"So long as I live: but I am an old man; this night the Lord may call
me. Haste is necessary against this profligate. Yon knew Galla, the
child of Gaudentius, who lives near to the tax-office. She was
eighteen years old. It was only a few days ago. The villain saw her at
mid-day:--before night she had disappeared:--next morning she lay
shattered at the foot of the rock of the Capitol;--it was said she had
met with an accident while gathering berries--but a fisherman, who was
drawing his nets at daybreak, confided to me that he saw her throw
herself from the tower-window."
"The Tribune lives there!" cried Crispus.
Fulvius, speechless, grasped at the hammer in his tunic.
"Come! The Judge, the Curies will not take any declaration so late.
They are feasting and carousing. We will seek out the elders of the
congregation: I will swear before them my knowledge of the
emancipation. And I will to-night consider with thee if we cannot
protect thy wife's innocence, and also thyself and thy inheritance,
brave stone-mason, against this usurer. Follow me."
They hastened all three into the street. It was still tolerably light;
the twilight of the long Jane evening only very gradually deepened. As
they reached the house of the Judge, the outer door opened: the master
came out escorting the money-dealer.
"I will," said he, "send there early to-morrow. Thy right is undoubted;
and as the flight of the debtor is probable, I will issue the
warrant--but there he stands before us."
Zeno turned towards the street and saw the three men approaching; it
displeased him to see his victim in company with the priest, whom the
burghers loved, whom he feared and hated. He greeted him coldly; there
were other people in the street, it would have injured himself to
refuse one so honoured a greeting, but he wished to pass by him
quickly.
"Halt, Zeno of Byzantium!" cried the priest aloud--and one would not
have credited the old man with this strength of voice--"I have to warn
thee, thee and that voluptuous Tribune. I know too well of your sins:
the measure is full. If you do not repent, I cannot longer suffer you
in the fellowship of the saints." The merchant grew pale. "A usurer
thou art; and he--he is a murderer of body and soul. You will not carry
it out. Know that, if the letter is burnt, the pure wife shall not be
given up to you. She is free--set free before me in the church."
"Thou canst easily say that," said Zeno, with a crafty look.
"I go to swear it before witnesses."
"Then no one knows it except the old man," thought the other.
"But thou who takest thirty and more per cent., I will bring thee to
account before the congregation. And not for that alone. Think of thy
poor Syrian slave! I will also accuse thee, on her account, before the
secular tribunal." The Byzantian trembled. "And thou and that
commander-in-chief of lust and power, if you cannot clear yourselves
from the blood of Galla, I will expel you next Sunday from the Church."
Before Zeno could answer there was a clang of weapons and the sound of
heavy steps, and a company of the Tribune's Isaurians turned the
corner. The centurion hastened to the merchant:
"I seek thee! I was directed from thy house here, to the Judge. Read!
From the Tribune!"
Zeno took the small wax tablet, "Open?" asked he suspiciously.
"Sealed for us," laughed the soldier; "we do not read; we only fight."
Zeno read: "It was only the knee. My Greek slave has by friction
reduced the swelling. I shall to-morrow again mount my horse.
Threefold, if thou gettest the woman to-morrow!"
The Greek exchanged a quick look with the Judge; he then, with the
reverse end of the style, rubbed the tablet smooth, effacing the
writing, turned the style and wrote:
"The priest alone knows that she was set free. On Sunday he denounces
thee publicly. Dead dogs do not bark."
"Take that to thy Tribune," said he to the centurion.
"I cannot. I go on guard at the Vindelician gate. But here, Arsakes, go
back to the Capitol."
He gave the tablet to one of the soldiers, who saluted and disappeared.
"At the Vindelician gate? Wait, then!" And Zeno whispered a word to the
Judge.
"Halt, centurion!" cried the latter, "My Carcerarii are not within
call; in case of necessity I can exercise authority over you warriors,
according to the law of the Emperor Diocletian. Seize that debtor of
the state, whose escape is suspected, and take him to the prison for
tax-debtors; it stands by the Vindelician gate."
Fulvius was in a moment surrounded; the centurion laid hold of his
shoulder, four men seized his arms.
"Oh, Felicitas!" sighed he, utterly helpless.
"I will save her! I will go to her immediately!" cried Crispus, and he
hastened away.
He was about to turn the comer, when there sounded suddenly the
hoof-strokes of a horseman riding along in mad haste, followed by a
tumultuous crowd: soldiers, burghers, women, children--all pell-mell.
"One of our Moorish horsemen!" cried the centurion, as he caught the
horse's bridle. "Jarbas! Comrade in arms! What is the matter?"
The rider, who was dripping with water, raised himself high in the
saddle; he had lost helmet and shield, he held a broken spear in his
right hand, blood streamed over his naked left arm.
"Tell the Tribune," cried he in a hoarse voice, as if making a last
effort. "I can do no more--the arrow in my neck--they are there--close
the gates--the Germans stand before the town!" And dropping the bridle,
he fell backwards from his horse.
He was dead!