Volume I Part 22 (1/2)
Lentulus looked at him doubtfully, and asked, with a quick shudder running through his limbs, as he spoke: ”And will you really?-” and there he paused, unable to complete the question.
”Remove her?” added Catiline, completing the sentence which he had left unfinished, ”Ay! will I. Just as I would a serpent from my path!”
”And that done, what is to follow?” Lentulus inquired, with an a.s.sumption of coolness, which in truth he did not feel.
”We will get rid of Arvina. And then, as it wants but four days of the elections, we may keep all things quiet till the time.”
”Be it so!” answered the other. ”When do we meet again to settle these things finally?”
”To-morrow, at the house of Laeca, at the sixth hour of night.”
”Will all be there?”
”All the most faithful; until then, farewell!”
”Farewell.”
And they parted; Lentulus hurrying to the Forum, to take his seat on the praetor's chair, and there preside in judgment-fit magistrate!-on men, the guiltiest of whom were pure as the spotless snow, when compared with his own conscious guilt; and Catiline to glide through dark streets, visiting discontented artizans, debauched mechanics, desperate gamblers, scattering dark and ambiguous promises, and stirring up that worthless rabble-who, with all to gain and nothing to lose by civil strife and tumult, abound in all great cities-to violence and thirst of blood.
Three or four hours at least he spent thus; and well satisfied with his progress, delighted by the increasing turbulence of the fierce and irresponsible democracy, and rejoicing in having gained many new and fitting converts to his creed, he returned homeward, ripe for fresh villainy. Chaerea met him on the threshold, with his face pale and haggard from excitement.
”Catiline,” he exclaimed, ”she had gone forth already, before you bade me watch her!”
”She!-Who, slave? who?” and knowing perfectly who was meant, yet hoping, in his desperation, that he heard not aright, he caught the freedman by the throat, and shook him furiously.
”Lucia Orestilla,” faltered the trembling menial.
”And has not returned?” thundered the traitor.
”Catiline, no!”
”Liar! and fool!” cried the other, gnas.h.i.+ng his teeth with rage, as he gave way to his ungovernable fury, and hurling him with all his might against the marble door-post.
The freedman fell, like a dead man, with the blood gus.h.i.+ng from his nose and mouth; and Catiline, striding across the prostrate body, retired sullenly and slowly to muse on the disappointment of this his most atrocious project, in the darkness and solitude of his own private chamber whither none dared intrude unsummoned.
CHAPTER XI.
THE RELEASE.
And, for that right is right, to follow right Were wisdom, in the scorn of consequence.
TENNYSON. NONE.
Paullus Arvina sat alone in a small chamber of his own house. Books were before him, his favorites; the authors, whose words struck chords the most kindred in his soul; but though his eye rested on the fair ma.n.u.scripts, it was evident that his mind was absent. The slender preparations for the first Roman meal were displayed temptingly on a board, not far from his elbow; but they were all untouched. His hair was dishevelled; his face pale, either from watching or excitement; and his eye wild and haggard. He wore a loose morning gown of colored linen, and his bare feet were thrust carelessly into unmatched slippers.
It was past noon already; nor, though his favorite freedman Thrasea had warned him several times of the lateness of the hour, had he shewn the least willingness to exert himself, so far even as to dress his hair, or put on attire befitting the business of the day.
It could not but be seen, at a glance, that he was ill at ease; and in truth he was much perturbed by what had pa.s.sed on the preceding night, and very anxious with regard to the future.