A slender bluish flame, burning in a marble vessel supported by a
bronze pedestal of exquisite Corinthian workmanship, diffused both
light and perfume through the Prefect's sumptuously furnished and
richly decorated tent. Ausonius was lying on the low couch: before him
stood the Tribune. Prosper, the old freedman, was pushing forward the
citrus wood dining-table, which ran on rollers.
Herculanus entered, greeted all present pleasantly and took his place
on the second couch, opposite to Ausonius. "Where is Davus?" he asked
the freedman impatiently. "I am thirsty!"
"He ought to have been here long ago," replied Prosper. "He often
wanders about needlessly, nobody knows where. You must have him put in
the block again, patronus."
"What," cried Ausonius laughing, "have you actually dragged the block
here, you rigid slave-overseer, all the way from Vindonissa?"
"Three fine ones, patronus. If you take bad slaves with you, I must
take good blocks."
Saturninus was about to go: "The business of the service is over for
to-day, Prefect. Perhaps Nannienus may arrive with the galleys
to-morrow. He sent a swift galley across the lake to-day: he will
arrive very soon. Then, at last, we can begin our work without delay.
But," he added in a kindly tone, advancing a step nearer to the lectus,
"Will you permit me to utter a word of warning. Prefect Praetor of Gaul?
Yesterday, and to-day still more, you complained of illness; chills
followed by short attacks of fever: will you not remain here in the
camp to-morrow (Bissula shall nurse you), instead of marching with us
into the swampy forests? I fear you already have the marsh fever."
Just at that moment Davus entered, bringing the beautiful
mixing-vessel, filled, and several empty goblets.
"Davus, you lazy hound!" shouted Herculanus. "Quick! I am thirsty!
Wine!"
But Saturninus, bending anxiously over the reclining figure, went on:
"Acid old Caecubian is said to be a good remedy for this fever. May I
send you some from my store, Prefect?"
But Ausonius still remained silent. Contradictory feelings had been
struggling for mastery in his soul since the Illyrian's last words. On
the one hand his resentment was very vehement against the obstinate
soldier who, for some incomprehensible whim, opposed the dearest wish
of his heart. But even during these days of constraint Saturninus had
treated him so respectfully, while he himself had been very harsh to
his old friend. And he loved the gallant General so warmly! And now
this touching, unfeigned solicitude for his health conquered the kind
heart of Ausonius.
"Saturninus! Your affection does me good. My nephew thinks only of one
disease--his own thirst! The business of the service, Tribune, is
probably over; but I entreat you to stay as my guest. Let us forget
what briefly estranged us, and remember our beautiful old friendship."
Saturninus quickly grasped the outstretched hand and pressed it warmly:
"There your heart spoke, Ausonius! I thank you. I will stay gladly." He
took his place on the third lectus, which was at the rear of the tent
opposite to the entrance and at the right of the two others. "You ought
to have known long ago that my sole wish is your welfare, your real
happiness."
Just at that moment Davus came from the table beside the entrance,
where the wine was poured, toward his master. He walked very slowly,
for he carried three goblets, all filled: two small ones on a silver
salver in his right hand, and the large imperial beaker in his left.
With his face turned to the entrance and his back to Saturninus, he had
poured the wine from the small amphora at the table and then added
spring water from the mixing-vessel.
Herculanus hastily started up, snatched one of the goblets from the
salver and emptied it at one draught. His uncle cast a look of
disapproval at him, saying, "Could you not wait for my toast?" Then he
took the Emperor's goblet with the three graces. Davus carried the last
cup to the Illyrian and set the silver salver on the table.
"The first draught," said Ausonius, "is usually to the noble Emperor,
to whom I owe this beautiful gift. But to-day Gratianus may wait;
to-day I drink first to our friendship, my Saturninus!"
"And all that your heart most ardently desires," added the latter
smiling.
Ausonius raised the goblet.
Just at that moment the curtain at the door of the tent was dragged
violently back from the outside: Bissula, her face corpselike in its
pallor, her hair fluttering wildly around her, and blood streaming from
her bare right arm, rushed in, shrieking:
"Poison! Do not drink, Ausonius!" She fell forward headlong on the
Prefect's couch.
Herculanus sprang up with the speed of lightning, to snatch the cup
from his uncle's hand and pour its contents on the ground. But, before
he reached him, the Tribune, who had dropped his own goblet, clutched
him with a grasp of iron. In spite of his violent struggles, Herculanus
could not move forward an inch. Davus, the old freedman running at his
heels, darted toward the entrance. Prosper shouted loudly, but Davus
went no farther than the door; for here he encountered the Batavian,
Rignomer, who seized him by the throat and held him fast.
Ausonius, horrified and bewildered, had set the goblet on the table
before him, and now raised Bissula's head. "Poison?" he asked
sorrowfully. "Poison me? Who?"
"The dog of a slave, of course!" cried Herculanus, struggling furiously
in the Illyrian's hold. "Are you in league with Davus, Tribune? Why do
you prevent me from punishing the scoundrel?" And now he actually
succeeded in releasing his right hand and gripping the dagger in his
belt.
"Don't let him go," shrieked Bissula, who had now recovered her senses.
"He is the instigator!"
Just at that moment, summoned by Prosper, who had rushed out screaming
for help, two Thracians on guard before the Prefect's tent, and two
Illyrians who chanced to be passing, came in and, by the Tribune's
orders, seized Herculanus and the slave, who, pale and trembling, could
scarcely stand.
Ausonius, groaning aloud, sank back on his pillows.