Part 40 (1/2)
”Fellow,” said the proconsul's steady voice, ”do you know the road to Ariminum?”
The driver answered in his broken Latin that he was the slave of the stable keeper who had let the carriage, and had been often over the road, but to go safely in the dark was more than he could vouch for.
The only thing the German saw to be done was to wait in the road until the morning, or until the moon broke out through the clouds.
”Drusus,” remarked the proconsul, ”you are the youngest. Can your eyes make out anything to tell us where we are?”
The young man yawned, shook off his drowsiness, and stared out into the gloomy void.
”I can just make out that to our left are tall trees, and I imagine a thicket.”
”Very good. If you can see as much as that here, it is safe to proceed. Let us change places. I will take the reins. Do you, Drusus, come and direct me.”
”Oh! domine!” entreated Antiochus, ”don't imperil yourself to-night!
I'm sure some calamity impends before dawn. I consulted a soothsayer before setting out, and the dove which he examined had no heart--a certain sign of evil.”
”Rascal!” retorted his patron, ”the omens will be more favourable when I please. A beast wants a heart--no very great prodigy! men lose theirs very often, and think it slight disgrace. Change your seat, sirrah!”
Caesar took the reins, smote the mules, and went off at so furious a pace that the worthy Antiochus was soon busy invoking first one, then another, member of the pantheon, to avert disaster. Drusus speedily found that the general's vision was far more keen than his own.
Indeed, although the road, he knew, was rough and crooked, they met with no mishaps. Presently a light could be seen twinkling in the distance.
”We must get a guide,” remarked the Imperator decisively, and he struck the mules again.
They at last approached what the owl-like discernment of Caesar p.r.o.nounced to be a small farmhouse with a few out-buildings. But it was no easy matter to arouse the drowsy countrymen, and a still more difficult task to convince the good man of the house that his nocturnal visitors were not brigands. At last it was explained that two gentlemen from Ravenna were bound for Ariminum, on urgent business, and he must furnish a guide for which he would be amply paid. As a result, the German driver at last resumed the reins, and sped away with a fresh lantern, and at his side a stupid peasant boy, who was almost too shy to make himself useful.
But more misfortune was in store. Barely a mile had they traversed, before an ominous crack proclaimed the splitting of an axletree. The cheap hired vehicle could go no farther.
”'Tis a sure sign the G.o.ds are against our proceeding this night,”
expostulated Antiochus; ”let us walk back to the farmhouse, my lord.”
Caesar did not deign to give him an answer. He deliberately descended, clasped his paenula over his shoulders, and bade the German make the best of his way back to Ravenna. The peasant boy, he declared, could lead them on foot until dawn.
The freedman groaned, but he was helpless. The guide, bearing the lantern, convoyed them out of the highroad, to strike what he a.s.sured them was a less circuitous route; and soon had his travellers, now plunged in quagmires that in daylight would have seemed impa.s.sable, now clambering over stocks and stones, now leaping broad ditches. At last, after thoroughly exhausting the patience of his companions, the wretched fellow confessed that he had missed the by-path, and indeed did not know the way back.
Antiochus was now too frightened to declare his warnings confirmed.
Drusus liked the prospect of a halt on these swampy, miasmic fields little enough, But again the proconsul was all resources. With almost omniscience he led his companions through blind mazes of fallow land and stubble fields: came upon a brook at the only point where there appeared to be any stepping-stones; and at length, just as the murky clouds seemed about to lift, and the first beams of the moon struggled out into the black chaos, the wanderers saw a mult.i.tude of fires twinkling before them, and knew that they had come upon the rear cohort of the thirteenth legion, on its way to Ariminum.
The challenge of the sentry was met by a quick return of the watchword, but the effusively loyal soldier was bidden to hold his peace and not disturb his comrades.
”What time is it?” inquired his general. The fellow replied it lacked one hour of morn. Caesar skirted the sleeping camp, and soon came out again on the highroad. There was a faint paleness in the east; a single lark sang from out the mist of grey ether overhead; an ox of the baggage train rattled his tethering chain and bellowed. A soft, damp river fog touched on Drusus's face. Suddenly an early horseman, coming at a moderate gallop, was heard down the road. In the stillness, the pounding of his steed crept slowly nearer and nearer; then, as he was almost on them, came the hollow clatter of the hoofs upon the planks of a bridge. _Caesar stopped._ Drusus felt himself clutched by the arm so tightly that the grasp almost meant pain.
”Do you hear? Do you see?” muttered the Imperator's voice in his ear.
”The bridge, the river--we have reached it!”
”Your excellency--” began Drusus, sorely at a loss.
”No compliments, this is the Rubicon; the boundaries of Cisalpine Gaul and Italy. On this side I am still the Proconsul--not as yet rightly deposed. On the other--Caesar, the Outlaw, the Insurgent, the Enemy of his Country, whose hand is against every man, every man's hand against him. What say you? Speak! speak quickly! Shall I cross? Shall I turn back?”
”Imperator,” said the young man, struggling to collect his wits and realize the gravity of his own words, ”if you did not intend to cross, why send the legion over to commence the invasion? Why harangue them, if you had no test to place upon their loyalty?”
”Because,” was his answer, ”I would not through my own indecision throw away my chance to strike. But the troops can be recalled. It is not too late. No blood has been shed. I am merely in a position to strike if so I decide. No,--nothing is settled.”