Part 19 (1/2)

”He has gone?” demanded Agias.

”Gone, early this morning!”

”Then,--the G.o.ds reward you for your news,--I am gone too!”

And without another word to Artemisia or the old slave, Agias had rushed out into the street. He had a double game to play--to prevent Phaon from ever reaching Praeneste, and then get such help to Drusus as would enable him to beat off Dumnorix and his gang. For Agias felt certain that the hard-hitting Gaul would execute his part of the bargain, whether he met Phaon or not, and afterward look into the consequences of what--unmitigated by the freedman's _finesse_--would take the form of an open clumsy murder. But Phaon had started that morning; and it was now well into the afternoon. Time was dangerously scanty. Cornelia he felt he should inform; but she could do nothing really to help him. He turned his steps toward the Forum and the Atrium Vestae. He had some difficulty in inducing the porter to summon Fabia, to meet in personal interview a mere slave, but a gratuity won the point; and a minute later he was relating the whole story and the present situation of Drusus to Fabia, with a sincere directness that carried conviction with it. She had known that Drusus had enemies; but now her whole strong nature was stirred at the sense of her nephew's imminent peril.

”If you were a freeman, Agias,” were her words, ”and could give witness as such, Pratinas and Ahen.o.barbus--high as the latter is--should know that my influence at the law outweighs theirs. But they shall be thwarted. I will go to Marcellus the consul, and demand that troops be started to Praeneste to-night. But you must go after Phaon.”

”You will send word to Cornelia?” requested Agias.

”Yes,” said Fabia, ”but not now; it is useless. Here is an order on Gallus, who keeps a livery-stable[102] by the Porta Esquilina. He will give you my new white Numidian, that I keep with him. Ride as you have never ridden before. And here is money. Twenty gold philippi in this bag. Bribe, do anything. Only save Drusus! Now go!”

[102] Such establishments were common near the gates, and the Vestals often had their horses at such places.

”Farewell, lady,” cried Agias, ”may I redeem the debt of grat.i.tude I owe you!”

Fabia stood looking after him, as he hastened out from the quiet atrium into the busy street. Little Livia had cuddled up beside her aunt.

”Oh, Livia,” said Fabia, ”I feel as though it were of no use to live good and pure in this world! Who knows what trouble may come to me from this day's doings? And why should they plot against your brother's dear life? But I mustn't talk so.” And she called for her attendants to escort her abroad.

Chapter VIII

”When Greek Meets Greek”

I

Cornelia had surmised correctly that Pratinas, not Lucius Ahen.o.barbus, would be the one to bring the plot against Drusus to an issue. Lucius had tried in vain to escape from the snares the wily intriguer had cast about him. His father had told him that if he would settle down and lead a moderately respectable life, Phormio should be paid off.

And with this burden off his mind, for reformation was very easily promised, Lucius had time to consider whether it was worth his while to mix in a deed that none of Pratinas's casuistry could quite convince him was not a foul, unprovoked murder, of an innocent man.

The truth was, Ahen.o.barbus was desperately in love with Cornelia, and had neither time nor desire to mingle in any business not connected with the pursuit of his ”tender pa.s.sion.” None of his former sweethearts--and he had had almost as many as he was years old--were comparable in his eyes to her. She belonged to a different world from that of the Spanish dancers, the saucy maidens of Greece, or even the many n.o.ble-born Roman women that seemed caught in the eddy of Clodia's fas.h.i.+onable whirlpool. Lucius frankly told himself that he would want to be divorced from Cornelia in five years--it would be tedious to keep company longer with a G.o.ddess. But for the present her vivacity, her wit, her bright intelligence, no less than her beauty, charmed him. And he was rejoiced to believe that she was quite as much ensnared by his own attractions. He did not want any unhappy accident to mar the smooth course which was to lead up to the marriage in no distant future. He did not need Drusus's money any longer to save him from bankruptcy. The legacy would be highly desirable, but life would be very pleasant without it. Lucius was almost induced by his inward qualms to tell Pratinas to throw over the whole matter, and inform Dumnorix that his services were not needed.

It was at this juncture that Cornelia committed an error, the full consequences of which were, to her, happily veiled. In her anxiety to discover the plot, she had made Lucius believe that she was really pining for the news of the murder of Drusus. Cornelia had actually learned nothing by a sacrifice that tore her very heart out; but her words and actions did almost irreparable harm to the cause she was trying to aid.

”And you have never given me a kiss,” Lucius had said one morning, when he was taking leave of Cornelia in the atrium of the Lentuli.

”Will you ever play the siren, and lure me to you? and then devour, as it were, your victim, not with your lips, but with your eyes?”

”_Eho!_ Not so bold!” replied Cornelia, drawing back. ”How can I give you what you wish, unless I am safe from that awful Polyphemus up in Praeneste?”

When Ahen.o.barbus went away, his thoughts were to the following effect: ”I had always thought Cornelia different from most women; but now I can see that, like them all, she hates and hates. To say to her, 'Drusus is dead,' will be a more grateful present than the largest diamond Lucullus brought from the East, from the treasure of King Tigranes.”

And it was in such a frame of mind that he met Pratinas by appointment at a low tavern on the Vicus Tuscus. The Greek was, as ever, smiling and plausible.

”Congratulations!” was his greeting. ”Dumnorix has already started. He has my orders; and now I must borrow your excellent freedman, Phaon, to go to Praeneste and spy out, for the last time, the land, and general our army. Let him start early to-morrow morning. The time is ample, and unless some malevolent demon hinder us, there will be no failure. I have had a watch kept over the Drusus estate. An old sentry of a steward, Mamercus,--so I learn,--has been afraid, evidently, of some foul play on the part of the consul-designate, and has stationed a few armed freedmen on guard. Drusus himself keeps very carefully on his own premises. This is all the better for us. Dumnorix will dispose of the freedmen in a hurry, and our man will be in waiting there just for the gladiators. Phaon will visit him--cook up some errand, and inveigle him, if possible, well out in the colonnade in front of the house, before Dumnorix and his band pa.s.s by. Then there will be that very deplorable scuffle, and its sad, sad results. Alas, poor Drusus!

Another n.o.ble Livian gathered to his fathers!”

”I don't feel very merry about it,” ventured Lucius. ”I don't need Drusus's money as much as I did. If it wasn't for Cornelia, I would drop it all, even now. Sometimes I feel there are avenging Furies--_Dirae_, we Latins call them--haunting me.”