Part 23 (2/2)

”Woman,” cried Agias, with all the earnestness which agony and fear could throw into face and voice, ”go this instant! Tell Master Drusus that Dumnorix and his gang are not a furlong[113] away. They mean to murder him. Say that I, Agias, say so, and he, at least, will believe me. You yourself can see the sun gleaming on their steel as they march down the hill.”

[113] About 606-3/4 English feet.

Perhaps it was the sight which Agias indicated, perhaps it was his earnest words, perhaps it was his handsome face--Chloe was very susceptible to good looks--but for some cause she put down the pot and was off, as fast as her light heels could carry her, toward the house.

II

Drusus had ridden hard to get back early from Lanuvium and write some letters to Cornelia, for he had expected that Agias would come on that very afternoon, on one of his regular, though private, visits; and he wished to be able to tell Cornelia that, so long a time had elapsed since he had been warned against Ahen.o.barbus and Pratinas, and as no attempt at all had been made on his life, her fears for him were probably groundless and the plot had been for some cause abandoned.

Drusus himself was weary, and was glad to shake off the little knot of clients and retire to his chamber, preparatory for a bath and a change of clothes. He had seen Falto, but the latter deemed it best not to trouble his patron at the time by mentioning the prisoner. Mago, too, concluded that it was best to defer executing his promise. Drusus was just letting Cappadox take off his cloak, when the shrill voice of Chloe was heard outside the door, expostulating with the boy on guard.

”I must see the dominus at once. It's very important.”

”Don't you see, you idiot, that you can't while he's dressing?”

”I _must!_” screamed Chloe. And, violating every law of subordination and decorum, she threw open the door.

Cappadox flew to eject her, but Chloe's quick tongue did its work.

”A lad who calls himself Agias is chained in the ergastulum. He says some gladiators are going to attack the house, and will be here in a moment! Oh, I am so frightened!” and the poor girl threw her mantle over her head, and began to whimper and sob.

”Agias!” shouted Drusus, at the top of his voice. ”In the ergastulum?

_Per deos immortales!_ What's this? Mamercus! Falto!”

And the young master rushed out of the room, Cappadox, who like lightning had caught up a sword, following him.

Falto came running from the stables; Mamercus from the garden. Drusus faced his two subordinates, and in an eye's twinkling had taken in the situation. Mamercus, who felt within himself that he, by his oversight, had been the chief blunderer, to vent his vexation smote Falto so sound a cuff that the under villicus sprawled his full length.

”Go to the ergastulum and fetch Agias this instant,” cried Drusus, in thundering accents, to the trembling Mago, who had appeared on the scene.

Mago disappeared like magic, but in an instant a din was rising from the front of the house,--cries, blows, clash of steel. Into the peristylium, where the angry young master was standing, rushed the old slave woman, Las.

”_Hei! hei!_” she screamed, ”they are breaking in! Monsters! a hundred of them! They will kill us all!”

Drusus grew calm in an instant.

”Barricade the doors to the atrium!” he commanded, ”while I can put on my armour. You, Mamercus, are too old for this kind of work; run and call in the field-hands, the clients, and the neighbours. Cappadox, Falto, and I can hold the doors till aid comes.”

”I run?” cried the veteran, in hot incredulity, while with his single hand he tore from its stout leather wall-fastenings a s.h.i.+eld that had been beaten with Punic swords at the Metaurus.[114] ”I run?” he repeated, while a mighty crash told that the front door had given way, and the attackers were pouring into the atrium. And the veteran had thrust a venerable helmet over his grizzled locks, and was wielding his s.h.i.+eld with his handless left arm, while a good Spanish short-sword gleamed in his right hand.

[114] The great battle won in 207 B.C. over Hasdrubal.

The others had not been idle. Cappadox had barred both doors leading into the front part of the house. Drusus had armed, and Falto,--a more loyal soul than whom lived not,--burning to retrieve his blunder, had sprung to his patron's side, also in s.h.i.+eld and helm.

”They will soon force these doors,” said Drusus, quietly, growing more composed as closer and closer came the actual danger. ”Falto and I will guard the right. Cappadox and you, Mamercus, if you will stay, must guard the left. Some aid must come before a great while.”

But again the veteran whipped out an angry oath, and thundered, ”You stay, you soft-fingered Quintus! You stay and face those German giants! Why, you are the very man they are after! Leave fighting to an old soldier! Take him away, Cappadox, if you love him!”

”I will never leave!” blazed forth Drusus. ”My place is here. A Livian always faces his foes. Here, if needs be, I will die.” But before he could protest further, Cappadox had caught him in his powerful arms, and despite his struggles was running with him through the rear of the house.

<script>