Saronia Part 46

'Judge thou. The Roman fleet, under the command of Lucius, is in the offing. Their numbers crowd the sea.'

'Lucius! The fleet! Lucius!' exclaimed Chios.

'True; Lucius is almost here.'

'Why comes there such a mult.i.tude of ships?' said Chios. 'Is there reason?'

'There may be. This much I confide in thee: ere many hours have pa.s.sed, the mighty walls of this great city will glisten with the spears of Roman men, in number such as Ephesus has never seen since Claudian ruled or Nero wielded power. To-morrow will be a great day--the streets so full of Roman soldiers that standing-room will not be left for rioters.'

'What does this portend?'

'Nothing save a military show of Roman power. Nevertheless, thou wilt do well to keep within doors _to-morrow_.'

'Why?'

'Because I wish it so. Thou wilt be at home to-morrow, eh, Chios? Chios, dost hear me?'

'I hear thee, but will not obey. Dost think I could remain here to-morrow, when it is the day for Saronia's murder? and thou, too, hast consented to this deed of shame. Roman, Roman, thou art false!'

'Peace, Chios! Peace! What I have promised thee, I will do. Hast thou Chian wine? Bring it forth; let us quaff it together.

'Now hark ye. I go back to Rome. I hate this place. The a.s.sociations are not to my liking. She whom I once loved has gone. It is not congenial to me to meet Lucius. My story has reached Rome, reached Nero, but that does not affect me. Nothing pleases him better than to keep a respectable gulf between a Proconsul and Lucius, the fighting admiral, well knowing we shall not connive to rebel against him. But there must exist a feeling, a strong feeling, between Lucius and--_your friend_.

Of course, Lucius is haughty; too much Roman blood runs in his veins to openly disapprove of what befell his daughter, well knowing, also, she deserved it. But a father cannot help feeling. I am better away. A Roman city draped in purple suits me better than Ephesus; and if I can close in with Nero's set, I gain more wealth in one year than in a lifetime here. I wonder how Lucius will receive the news of his wife's death?'

'Venusta dead!'

'Yes. I thought thou didst know of it.'

'No. When did she die?'

'She died on the day Saronia abjured her faith and was disgraced. The shock of joy killed her.'

'This, too, is sad.'

'Why so? Her loss will be felt by Lucius only. He is old, and will mourn briefly. Besides, he will have his hands full for awhile. Come, cheer up, man; thou shalt go with me to Rome, and I will make thee merry. Thou hast never really lived yet. I am away. Don't forget. Remain home to-morrow to receive me. I will come before thou art required at the arena; and, should I not, then do not stay. Be in time; there will be a goodly show, but--Saronia shall not be there. Hear ye, Chios?'

'What dost thou mean?'

'No more than I have said. Good-bye, good friend.'

And Varro was gone.

'What a strange being!' exclaimed Chios. 'What does he mean? I cannot understand him. I believe he means good, and knows more than he says, and intends to help. Some great mystery attaches itself to those warlike preparations. I must be patient until to-morrow, desist from going to the Temple to-night to rescue her. He goes to Rome. It is well known he is a staunch friend of Nero. Lucius is not. What can this great fleet of many thousand armed men mean? To-morrow will solve the problem, for what is to be done will be done quickly.'

CHAPTER XLIV

ACRATUS, THE TEMPLE SPOILER

The next day at early dawn the harbour was filled with shipping. There were the light-sailing laburnae, the stately biremes, majestic triremes, and quadriremes, with sterns rising high and crowned with castellated cabins, each with its great square yard and spray-beaten sail. On every prow blazed forth a sign, and on each quarter shone the image of a tutelary G.o.d. The ship of Lucius was among them, with great red flag denoting rank, and bearing a murderous ram, the fiercest of them all.

Ma.s.ses of Roman troops, with polished shields and glittering arms, thronged the vessels. Two legions were there--one half of them Praetorian men, with tribunes and centurions, with Acratus, the freed man of Nero, to lead them.

The great sails were closely furled, and the ships moored in regular order towards the quays. At the sound of trumpets the soldiers disembarked, and were hailed welcome by a host of Roman warriors who were stationed in Ephesus.

Soon the city was crowded with armed men, and on the walls the silver eagles shone resplendent in the sunlight.

The people were confounded. No tumult, no voice of war, yet the place was filled with martial strains, and Roman troops lined the ways from the city port, past the great Gymnasium, Forum, Theatre, away up the streets towards the city gates and onwards to the Temple Way. All was occupied with soldiers. A swift messenger had come into the Agora, telling the breathless people the Roman troops reached past the Temple and surrounded it, paying no respect to sacred groves or old traditions of the Temple's rights.

'What could this mean?' exclaimed the Ephesians.

They had not long to wait for an answer. Soon it was known that a body of priests, standing in the way of the Romans, guarding the precincts of the holy shrine, had been struck down--dead. And the swarming hosts of Nero had poured within, and finding the Temple closed, battered down the beautiful gates of gold and ivory, and were carousing within the sacred place.

Nothing was too vile for the plunderers. They had received their orders from the arch-fiend Nero, and license for themselves. They were to sack the Temple, and take the spoils to Rome. Such must be accomplished, no matter how.

The great s.p.a.ce within the parabolus walls running around the Temple of Diana with the white brow was filled with laughing, jesting soldiers.

They had not an enemy to fight against. 'Twas a cold-blooded affair.

They were fighting-men, and in battle would have told well, but as robbers they were ashamed of their work. Acratus foresaw this, and gave them wine, and the wine brought forth lawlessness.

Virgin priestesses ran to and fro with hair dishevelled, crying on their G.o.ddess, only to fall into the hands of Syrians, Africans, and Gauls--vile allies, a part of Nero's guard, sent with the regular Roman troops, to act as drunken jackals; and each of these, so far as he could, took a virgin priestess for his mate, and no restriction was put on them by Acratus.

The beautiful veil concealing the image of the holy G.o.ddess was pulled down. The gold and the jewels adorning it and the great statue were torn from their strong settings, and piled up on the marble floor.

On the sacred altar the soldiers lit their fires and cooked their rations, and washed themselves with the water of the holy fountain Hypelaeus--the fountain ornamented by Thrason, and the altar sacred to the genius of Ionia. What cared those brutal marauders? Had not he who sent them desecrated everything, even the statue of the Syrian G.o.ddess, and laughed at it? What harm if they should do the same?

Within, the Temple was one horrible scene of lewd riot and plunder; without, the people were rising in ma.s.ses, and thousands from adjacent towns were gathering around the city walls, and all crying loudly for revenge; but none could enter. The Romans held the gates, and every tower and battlement along the great red-brick walls, hard as adamant, was crowded with glistening spears. Nothing could be done from without, and there was little chance of help to come from within. A scheme was proposed to burn the fleet, but this got noised abroad too early, and the ships were moved from the wharves to the centre of the city port.

The day wore on in tumult and distress, and the people, seeing no chance of saving the treasures of their holy place, gave way to grief, loudly charging Saronia as the cause of all. The murder of the High Priest, her blasphemy in the Temple, and the want of action in not killing her right away, was the cause of the desertion of the G.o.ddess from her home.

CHAPTER XLV

REVELATION

In the Temple Varro, the Proconsul, and Acratus held counsel. They were standing near the altar, with the last light of evening falling upon them.

Near to the fallen image of the G.o.ddess Diana were the smaller statues in marble, bronze, silver, and gold--lamps and paterii, vases richly chased and candelabrii, instruments of the Temple, costly golden, jewelled things, all were piled up in heaps.

From behind this profusion of rarest art, now lying like so much rubbish, a Roman was dragging a woman who appeared quite dead. Her hair hung in ma.s.ses over her face, hiding a part of it, hiding a face which was crimson with blood. Her garments were torn, and the soldier threw her down close to where the two chiefs stood.

'Thank the G.o.ds!' muttered he.