Part 41 (2/2)

Gabinius saw that his stay around Rome was only likely to bring him into the clutches of the law, and reluctantly he started back, by a night journey in a stolen wagon, for the safer hill country beyond the Anio. But he was not utterly cast down. He had overheard the street talk of two equites, whom in more happy days he had known as rising politicians.

”I hope the consuls are right,” the first had said, ”that Caesar's army will desert him.”

”_Perpol_,” responded the other, ”your wish is mine! If the proconsul really _does_ advance, nothing will stand between him and the city!”

Gabinius kept his own counsel. ”In times of war and confusion, the extremity of the many is the opportunity of the few,” was the maxim he repeated to himself.

When he was well out of the city and moving up the Via Salaria, the trot and rattle of an approaching carriage drifted up upon him.

”Shall we stop and strip them?” asked Dromo, one of the accompanying brigands, in a matter-of-fact tone.

”Ay,” responded Gabinius, reining in his own plodding draught-horse, and pulling out a short sword. ”Let us take what the Fates send!”

A moment later and Servius Flaccus was being tumbled out of his comfortable travelling carriage, while one brigand stood guard over him with drawn sabre, a second held at bay his trembling driver and whimpering valet, and a third rifled his own person and his conveyance. There was a bright moon, and the luckless traveller's gaze fastened itself on the third bandit.

”By all the G.o.ds, Gabinius!” cried Servius, forgetting to lisp his Greekisms, ”don't you know me? Let me go, for old friends.h.i.+p's sake!”

Gabinius turned from his task, and held to his nose a gla.s.s scent-bottle he had found in the vehicle.

”Ah! amice,” he responded deliberately, ”I really did not antic.i.p.ate the pleasure of meeting you thus! You are returning very late to Rome from your Fidenae villa. But this is very excellent oil of rose!”

”Enough of this, man!” expostulated the other. ”The jest has gone quite far enough. Make this horrible fellow lower that sword.”

”Not until I have finished making up my package of little articles,”

replied Gabinius, ”and,” suiting the action to the word, ”relieved your fingers of the weight of those very heavy rings.”

”Gabinius,” roared Servius, in impotent fury, ”what are you doing? Are you a common bandit?”

”A bandit, my excellent friend,” was his answer, ”but not a common one; no ordinary footpad could strip the n.o.ble Servius Flaccus without a harder struggle.”

Servius burst into lamentations.

”My box of unguents! My precious rings! My money-bag! You are not leaving me one valuable! Have you sunk as low as this?”

”Really,” returned the robber, ”I have no time to convince you that the brigand's life is the only one worth living. You do not care to join our ill.u.s.trious brotherhood? No? Well, I must put these trinkets and fat little wallet in my own wagon. I leave you your cloak out of old friends.h.i.+p's sake. Really you must not blame me. Remember Euripides's line:--

”'Money can warp the judgment of a G.o.d.'

Thus I err in good company. And with this, _vale!_”

Flaccus was left with his menials to clamber back into his plundered carriage. Gabinius drove his horse at topmost speed, and before morning was saluted by the remainder of the banditti, near their mountain stronghold. Dumnorix met him with news.

”It is rumoured in the country towns that Caesar is driving all before him in the north, and will be down on Rome in less days than I have fingers.”

Gabinius clapped his hands.

”And we will be down on Rome, and away from it, before a legionary shows himself at the gates!”

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