Saturninus, no longer occupied with his prisoner, stepped forward into
the centre of the tent, saying: "In the name of the Emperor Gratianus!
As General and Commander of this camp I open the investigation. Speak,
girl! You, a slave, a captive Barbarian, are making a terrible charge
against a Roman leader. Weigh your words! Death is the penalty for
false accusation of such a deed."
But Bissula did not shrink. She had now recovered her strength and
calmness, and gave no thought to herself; her mind was occupied solely
with the old friend who lay sighing on his cushions, and who had never
been so dear to her as in the helplessness of his anguish. Briefly,
clearly, and simply she related the conversation between the two men,
to which, in the boughs of the pine-tree, she had been an involuntary
listener.
"Miserable lies," shrieked Herculanus, stamping his foot. "The wench
wants to become my uncle's wanton and ruin his nephew, the heir. The
whole story is an invention,--the entire tale of hiding in the tree!
When I came in here she stood watching beside the tent."
"That is a base falsehood," said Rignomer, stepping forward. "I swear
that she has just come down from the tree: I had been following
her--unseen--for half an hour."
"Aha, do you hear, uncle? Another lover!" sneered Herculanus.
"No," said the Tribune, "it was done by my order."
But Rignomer had flushed crimson with rage and shame. Shaking his
clenched fist at Herculanus, he said, laughing grimly: "Just wait--you
fellow with your patched mantle. The child came down from the tree
before my eyes. I was standing, hidden by the tent, six paces opposite
to it. Two men came from the right and left, glided under the pine,
whispered together, and then separated."
Davus grew even paler than before; he tottered and would have fallen
but for the hands which grasped him. But Herculanus asked defiantly:
"Did you recognize the two men in the dark? Or, at six paces distance,
understand their whispers?"
"Neither. But the child slid down the tree directly after in the most
frantic terror, called 'Murder! They will poison Ausonius!' and ran
with me here. The last part of the way I carried her."
"So the two Barbarians conspired against me!" cried Herculanus.
Saturninus went up to the slave, who hung with shaking knees between
the two Thracians. "You know what terrible tortures threaten the slave
who tries to murder his own master?"
Davus sank to the ground; the two men could scarcely drag him up again.
"Well then! What matters your miserable body! I will secure your safety
of life and limb--in the Emperor's name--you shall merely go to the
lead mines, if you confess at once."
"Thank you, my lord, a thousand thanks," groaned the slave. "Yes, yes.
It is all as they say. For a year he has been tempting and urging! The
demon of gold blinded me. It is all true!"
"Ha," shouted Herculanus, struggling against his guards, "so the slave,
too, is in the conspiracy against me?"
"Give the wine in the Emperor's goblet to a dog, and see how long it
will live," said Davus. "It is hemlock! In my tunic--feel there--I have
a small vial which contains the rest."
"I don't doubt it: poison in the goblet--the same poison in the vial.
Of course," cried Herculanus with an angry laugh, "the slave put it
into both. But Ausonius will not die until he has altered his will and
disinherited his nephew; for the Barbarian girl appeared just at the
right moment as a deliverer."
Meanwhile the Tribune had taken from the slave's breast a little amber
vial and placed it on the table beside the goblet. Ausonius glanced at
it mournfully; he seemed to recognize it.
"And what he put in there," Herculanus went on, "is to convict me?"
"No," cried Davus, now angered, "you shall convict yourself. Tribune,
feel in his tunic too; he has the same poison, in a similar vial,
hidden there. Could I force him to do it? Or could I conjure it there
by magic?"
Herculanus turned pale. Defiance, the hope of life, deserted him and,
gnashing his teeth, he struggled fiercely in the Illyrians' grasp. But
the latter held him firmly while their countryman, Saturninus, took
from his tunic a similar amber vial and placed it beside the first one.
"Then go to Orcus together! I wish you all had poison in you!" shrieked
Herculanus.
But Ausonius tore his gray locks, wailing: "Alas! alas! I know them
well. I gave them myself, both vials, to my dear sister, his mother.
Alas, my own sister's son! To murder me! For miserable money! I had
left it all to him. Only I should have been glad to live a few years
longer."
Weeping aloud, he covered his face. Bissula, kneeling before him,
stroked his hands compassionately.
"No doubt is possible," said Saturninus, "even without the confession
made by his fury."
"Oh! The son of my dearest sister, my Melania!" moaned the Prefect.
"I had long suspected him," the Tribune said. "But the scoundrel did
not desire to murder you alone; he wanted to kill this child too, to
whom all are attached."
"What? What?" cried Ausonius. Bissula also started.
"That is why he hastened in advance of us all, alone, to her dwelling,
on her track. He had raised his sword for a deadly blow when I caught
his arm."
"What? Horrible!" cried Ausonius.
"Yes, that is true; but," the girl went on kindly and truthfully, "but
then he had not yet recognized me as his uncle's friend."
"Yes, yes," groaned the Prefect. "He told me himself that a red hair
had put him on your track. How often I had described you to him! And,
as soon as he saw you he recognized you instantly. He wanted to bring
you to me; and he--"
"And yesterday night," Rignomer put in wrathfully, "he stole into her
tent with an unsheathed dagger. Unfortunately one who should have
guarded it was sleeping, but the she-bear was awake, and"--he swiftly
spread the full mantle open--"she tore out a piece here as he fled."
"_This_ piece," said Saturninus, drawing it from his girdle and laying
it on the fresh patch; "you see it fits exactly."
"The Furies' curse on you all!" screamed Herculanus.
"Away with them both!" the Tribune commanded. "Prosper, two of your
slave-blocks! It won't do to leave them guarded in an open tent. That
is always unsafe and requires the constant presence of trustworthy men,
whom we cannot spare. Rignomer, you will lock them in--both feet--apart
from each other. Your life will answer for it if they escape on the
way."
"They shall not," growled the Batavian, who had been inexpressibly
enraged by the fling at his love for Bissula, though he did not know
why. "Forward!"
Led by Rignomer, the four guards and Prosper thrust the prisoners out
of the tent.