STARTLING RUMOURS.
When Jucundus rose next morning, and heard the news, he considered it to
be more satisfactory than he could have supposed possible. He was a
zealous imperialist, and a lover of tranquillity, a despiser of the
natives and a hater of the Christians. The Christians had suffered enough
to vindicate the Roman name, to deter those who were playing at
Christianity, and to show that the people of Sicca had their eyes about
them. And the mob had received a severe lesson too; and the cause of
public order had triumphed, and civic peace was re-established. His
anxiety, too, about Agellius had terminated, or was terminating. He had
privately denounced him to the government, come to an understanding with
the military authorities, and obtained the custody of him. He had met him
at the very door to which the boy Firmian brought him, with an apparitor
of the military staff (or what answered to it), and had clapped him into
prison in an underground cellar in which he kept damaged images, and those
which had gone out of fashion, and were otherwise unsaleable. He was not
at all sorry, by some suffering, and by some fright, to aid the more
potent incantation which Callista was singing in his ears. He did not,
however, at all forget Juba’s hint, and was careful not to overdo the
rack-and-gridiron dodge, if we may so designate it; yet he thought just a
flavour or a thought of the inconveniences which the profession of
Christianity involved might be a salutary reflection in the midst of the
persuasives which the voice and eyes of Callista would kindle in his
heart. There was nothing glorious or heroic in being confined in a lumber
cellar, no one knowing anything about it; and he did not mean to keep him
there for ever.
As the next day wore on towards evening, rumour brought a piece of news
which he was at first utterly unable to credit, and which for the moment
seemed likely to spoil the appetite which promised so well for his evening
repast. He could hardly believe his ears when he was told that Callista
was in arrest on a charge of Christianity, and at first it made him look
as black as some of those Egyptian gods which he had on one shelf of his
shop. However, he rallied, and was very much amused at the report. The
imprisonment indeed was a fact, account for it as one could; but who
_could_ account for it? “Varium et mutabile:” who could answer for the
whims and fancies of womankind? If she had fallen in love with the owl of
Minerva, or cut off her auburn tresses, or turned rope-dancer, there might
have been some shrugging of shoulders, but no one would have tried to
analyze the motive; but so much his profound sagacity enabled him to see,
that, if there was one thing more than another likely to sicken Agellius
of Christianity, it was to find one who was so precious to him suffering
from the suspicion of it. It was bad enough to have suffered one’s self in
such a cause; still he could conceive, he was large-minded enough to
grant, that Agellius might have some secret satisfaction in the antagonist
feeling of resentment and obstinacy which that suffering might engender:
but it was carrying matters too far, and no comfort in any point of view,
to find Callista, his beloved, the object of a similar punishment. It was
all very well to profess Christianity as a matter of sentiment, mystery,
and singularity; but when it was found to compromise the life or limbs of
another, and that other Callista, why it was plain that Agellius would be
the very first to try and entreat the wayward girl to keep her good looks
for him, and to be loyal to the gods of her country; and he chuckled over
the thought, as others have done in other states of society, of a
love-scene or a marriage being the termination of so much high romance and
fine acting.
However, the next day Aristo came down to him himself, and gave him an
account at once more authentic and more extended on the matter which
interested him. Callista had been called up before the tribunal, and had
not been discharged, but remanded. The meaning of it was as obscure as
ever; Aristo could give no account of it; it almost led him to believe in
the evil eye; some unholy practices, some spells such as only potent
wizards know, some deplorable delusion or hallucination, had for the time
got the mastery of his sister’s mind. No one seemed quite to know how she
had found her way into the hands of the officers; but there she was, and
the problem was how to get her out of them.
However, whatever mystery, whatever anxiety, attached to the case, it was
only still more urgent to bring the matter home to Agellius without delay.
If time went on before the parties were brought together, she might grow
more obstinate, and kindle a like spirit in him. Oh that boys and girls
_would_ be giving old people, who wish them well, so much trouble!
However, it was no good thinking of that just then. He considered that, at
the present moment, they would not be able to bear the sight of each other
in suffering and peril; that mutual tenderness would make them plead with
each other in each other’s behalf, and that each would be obliged to set
the example to each of a concession, to which each exhorted each; and on
this fine philosophical view he proceeded to act.