Part 30 (2/2)

”_St!_” were his words, ”I have hired a gig which will carry us both.

Pratinas is loose and has been raising heaven and earth to get at us.

There is a crier going the rounds of the Forum offering a thousand sesterces for the return of Artemisia. Pratinas has gone before the _triumviri capitales_[130] and obtained from them an order on the _apparitores_[131] to track down the runaway and her abettor.”

[130] One of their functions made these officers practically chiefs of police.

[131] A part of these public officers performed police duty.

”_Eho!_” cried Pisander, ”then you'd better leave your treasure here awhile, for us to take care of.”

”Not at all,” replied Agias; ”I could have taken her out of the city at once, but in the daytime we should have been certainly noticed and subsequently tracked. No one will imagine Artemisia is here--at least for a while. But this is a large familia; all may be my friends, but all may not have prudent tongues in their heads. The reward is large, and perhaps some will be tempted;” he glanced at Iasus, who, to do him justice, had never thought of a second deed of baseness. ”I cannot risk that. No, Artemisia goes out of the city to-night, and she must get ready without the least delay.”

Artemisia, who was charmed with her present surroundings and adulation, demurred at leaving her entertainers; but Agias was imperative, and the others realized well enough that there was not much time to be lost. Agias, however, waited until it had become tolerably dark before starting. Meantime, he proceeded to make certain changes of his own and Artemisia's costume that indicated the rather serious character of the risk he was preparing to run. For himself he put on a very full and flowing crimson evening dress, as if he were proceeding to a dinner-party; he piled a dozen odd rings upon his fingers, and laughingly asked Semiramis to arrange his hair for him in the most fas.h.i.+onable style, and anoint it heavily with Valeria's most pungent perfumes. At the same time, Arsinoe was quite transforming Artemisia. Valeria's cosmetic vials were for once put into play for a purpose, and when Artemisia reappeared from the dressing-room after her treatment, Agias saw before him no longer a fair-skinned little Greek, but a small, slender, but certainly very handsome Egyptian serving-lad, with bronzed skin, conspicuous carmine lips, and features that Arsinoe's paint and pencils had coa.r.s.ened and exaggerated.

Fortunately, the cla.s.sic costume both for men and women was so essentially alike, that Artemisia did not have to undergo that mortification from a change of clothes which might have befallen one at the present day in a like predicament. Her not very long black hair was loose, and shaken over her shoulders. Agias had brought for her a short, variegated _lacerna_[132] which answered well enough as the habit of a boy-valet who was on good terms with his master.

[132] A sort of mantle held on the shoulders by a clasp.

”_Eho!_” cried Agias, when he had witnessed the transformation, ”we must hasten or Valeria will be anxious to keep you as her serving-boy!

Ah, I forgot she is going with her dear Pratinas to Egypt. Now, Arsinoe, and you, Semiramis, I shall not forget the good turn you have done me; don't let Valeria miss her unguents and ask questions that might prove disagreeable. Farewell, Iasus and Pisander; we shall soon meet again, the G.o.ds willing.”

The friends took leave of Artemisia; the slave-women kissed her; Pisander, presuming on his age, kissed her, albeit very sheepishly, as though he feared the ghosts of all the Stoics would see him. Iasus cast an angry jealous glance at the philosopher; he contented himself with a mere shake of the hand.

Agias swung Artemisia into the gig and touched the lash to the swift mules.

”Good-by, dear friends!” she cried, her merry Greek smile s.h.i.+ning out through her bronze disguise.

The gig rolled down the street, Agias glancing to right and left to see that no inquisitive eye followed them.

”Oh! Agias,” cried the girl, ”am I at last going away with you? Going away all alone, with only you to take care of me? I feel--I feel queerly!”

Agias only touched the mules again, and laughed and squeezed Artemisia's hand, then more gravely said:--

”Now, makaira, you must do everything as I say, or we shall never get away from Pratinas. Remember, if I tell you to do anything you must do it instantly; and, above everything else, no matter what happens, speak not a word; don't scream or cry or utter a sound. If anybody questions us I shall say that I am a gentleman driving out to the suburbs to enjoy a late party at a friend's villa, and you are my valet, who is a mute, whom it is useless to question because he cannot answer. Do you understand?”

Artemisia nodded her little head, and bit her pretty lips very hard to keep from speaking. The fear of Pratinas made her all obedience.

It was after sundown, and driving was permitted in the city, though nearly all the teams that blocked Agias's way, as he drove down the crowded streets to turn on to the Via Appia, were heavy wagons loaded with timber and builders' stone.

So far, all was safe enough; but Agias knew perfectly well that Pratinas was an awkward man to have for an enemy. The critical moment, however, was close at hand, and Agias called up all his wits to meet it. Under the damp arch of the ancient Porta Capena were pacing several men, whose lanterns and clinking sword-scabbards proclaimed them to be members of the city constabulary. There was no possibility of evading their scrutiny. No doubt any other gate was equally well watched. Agias drove straight ahead, as though he had seen nothing.

”Hold!” and one of the constables was at the heads of the mules, and another was waving a lantern up into the face of the occupants of the gig.

”Rascals,” roared Agias, menacing with his whip, ”are you highwaymen grown so impudent!”

”We have an order from the triumviri,” began one officer.

”_Eho!_” replied Agias, settling back, as though relieved not to have to fight for his purse, ”I can't see what for; I owe nothing. I have no suit pending.”

”We are to search all carriages and pedestrians,” recommenced the constable, ”to find if we may a certain Artemisia, a runaway slave-girl of the most n.o.ble Greek gentleman, Pratinas.”

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