Volume Ii Part 27 (1/2)
There was a rosy tinge still lingering in the sky, and a few slant rays were shot through the gaps in the mountain ridge, gilding the evergreen foliage of the holm-oaks with bright l.u.s.tre, and warming the cold grey stones which c.u.mbered the sides and summits of the giant hills; but all the level country at their feet was covered with deep purple shadow.
Catiline sat alone in his _praetorium_, as the general's pavilion was ent.i.tled, situated on a little knoll nearly in the centre of the camp between the tents of the tribunes, and the quarters of the extraordinary horse.
He was completely armed, all but his head, and wore a rich scarlet cloak above his panoply, his helmet and buckler lying upon the ground beside him in easy reach of his hand. A pen was in his fingers, and a sheet of parchment was stretched on the board before him; but he was not writing, although there were several lines scrawled on it in a bold coa.r.s.e hand.
His face was paler and more livid than usual, and his frame thinner, almost indeed emaciated, yet every sinew and muscle was hard as tempered steel.
But now there was a strange expression in his features; it was not doubt nor hesitation, much less fear; and consisted perhaps rather in the absence of his wonted characteristics, the unquiet and quick changes, the pa.s.sionate restlessness, the fell deadly sneer, and the blighting flash of the dark eye, than in any token of peculiar meaning.-There was a cold and almost vacant expression in his gaze; and an impa.s.sive calmness in all his lineaments, that were in singular contrast with the character of the man; and he sat, a thing most unusual for him, perfectly motionless, buried in deep thought.
The night was very cold, and, without, a heavy h.o.a.r frost was falling; so that a fire of charcoal had keen kindled in a bronze brazier, and as the light of the sky died away strange lurid gleams and fantastic shadows rose and fell, upon the walls of the large tent, rendered more fickle and grotesque by the wavering of the canva.s.s in the gusty night air. There was wine with several goblets upon the board, at which he sat, with his eyes fixed straight before him; and at his elbow there stood a tall brazen tripod supporting a large lamp with several burners; but none of these were lighted, and, but for the fitful glare of the charcoal, the tent would have been completely dark.
Still he called not to any slave, nor appeared to observe the growing obscurity, but sat gloomily pondering-on what?
Once or twice he drew his hand across his eyes, and then glared still more fixedly upon the dark and waving shadows, as if he saw something more than common in their uncertain outlines.
Suddenly he spoke, in a hoa.r.s.e altered voice-”This is strange,” he said, ”very strange! Now, were I one of these weak fools who believe in omens, I should shake. But tus.h.!.+ tus.h.!.+ how should there be omens? for who should send them? there must be G.o.ds, to have omens! and that is too absurd for credence! G.o.ds! G.o.ds!” he repeated half dubiously-”Yet, if there should-ha! ha! art thou turned dotard, Catiline! There are _no_ G.o.ds, or why sleep their thunders? Aye! there it is again,” he added, gazing on vacancy. ”By my right hand! it is very strange! three times last night, the first time when the watch was set, and twice afterward I saw him! And three times again tonight, since the trumpet was blown. Lentulus, with his lips distorted, his face black and full of blood, his eyes starting from their sockets, like a man strangled! and he beckoned me with his pale hand! I saw him, yet so shadowy and so transparent, that I might mark the waving of the canva.s.s through his figure!-But tus.h.!.+ tus.h.!.+ it is but a trick of the fancy. I am worn out with this daily marching; and the body's fatigue hath made the mind weak and weary. And it is dull here too, no dice, no women, and no revelling. I will take some wine,” he added, starting up and quaffing two or three goblets' full in quick succession, ”my blood is thin and cold, and wants warming. Ha! that is better-It is right old Setinian too; I marvel whence Manlius had it.” Then he rose from his seat, and began to stride about the room impatiently. After a moment or two he dashed his hand fiercely against his brow, and cried in a voice full of anguish and perturbation, ”Tidings! tidings! I would give half the world for tidings! Curses! curses upon it! that I began this game at all, or had not brave colleagues! It is time! can it be that their hearts have failed them? that they have feared or delayed to strike, or have been overthrown, detected?-Tidings, tidings! By Hades! I must have tidings!
What ho!” he exclaimed, raising his voice to a higher pitch, ”Ho, I say, ho! Chaerea!”
And from an outer compartment of the tent the Greek freedman entered, bearing a lighted lamp in his hand.
”Chaerea, summon Manlius. .h.i.ther, and leave the lamp, have been long in the darkness!”
”Wert sleeping, Catiline?”
”Sleeping!” exclaimed the traitor, with a savage cry, hoa.r.s.e as the roar of a wounded lion-”sleeping, thou idiot! Do men sleep on volcanoes? Do men sleep in the crisis of their fortunes? I have not slept these six nights.
Get thee gone! summon Manlius!” and then, as the freedman left the room, he added; ”perchance I shall sleep no more until-I sleep for ever! I would I could sleep, and not see those faces; they never troubled me till now. I would I knew if _that_ sleep is dreamless. If it were so-perhaps, perhaps!
but no! no! By all the Furies! no! until my foot hath trodden on the neck of Cicero.”
As he spoke, Manlius entered the room, a tall dark sinister-looking scar-seamed veteran, equipped in splendid armor, of which the helmet alone was visible, so closely was he wrapped against the cold in a huge s.h.a.ggy watch-cloak.
As his subordinate appeared, every trace of the conflict which had been in progress within him vanished, and his brow became as impa.s.sive, his eye as hard and keen as its wont.
”Welcome, my Caius,” he exclaimed. ”Look you, we have present need of council. The blow must be stricken before this in Rome, or must have failed altogether. If it have been stricken, we should be nearer Rome to profit by it-if it have failed, we must destroy Antonius' army, before Metellus join him. I doubt not he is marching hitherward even now.
Besides, we must, we _must_ have tidings-we _must_ know all, and all truly!”
Then, seeing that Manlius doubted, ”Look you,” he continued. ”Let us march at daybreak to-morrow upon Faesulae, leaving Antonius in the plain on our right. Marching along the crest of the hills, he cannot a.s.sail our flank.
We can outstrip him too, and reach Arretium ere the second sunset. He, thinking we have surely tidings from our friends in the city, will follow in disordered haste; and should we have bad news, doubling upon him on a sudden we may overpower him at one blow. It is a sure scheme either way-think'st thou not so, good friend? nay more, it is the only one.”
”I think so, Sergius,” he replied. ”In very deed I think so. Forage too is becoming scarce in the camp, and the baggage horses are dying. The men are murmuring also for want of the pleasures, the carouses, and the women of the cities. They will regain their spirits in an hour, when they shall hear of the march upon Rome.”
”I prithee, let them hear it, then, my Caius; and that presently. Give orders to the tribunes and centurions to have the tents struck, and the baggage loaded in the first hour of the last night-watch. We will advance at-ha!” he exclaimed, interrupting himself suddenly, and listening with eager attention. ”There is a horse tramp crossing from the gates. By the G.o.ds! news from Rome! Tarry with me, until we hear it.”
Within five minutes, Chaerea re-entered the tent, introducing a man dressed and armed as a light-horseman, covered with mudstains, travelworn, bending with fatigue, and s.h.i.+vering with cold, the h.o.a.r-frost hanging white upon his eyebrows and beard.
”From Rome, good fellow?” Catiline inquired quickly. ”From Rome, Catiline!” replied the other, ”bearing a letter from the n.o.ble Lentulus.”
”Give-give it quick!” and with the word he s.n.a.t.c.hed the scroll from the man's hand, tore it violently open, and read aloud as follows.
”Who I may be, you will learn from the bearer. All things go bravely. The amba.s.sadors have lost their suit, but we have won ours. They return home to-morrow, by the Flaminian way, one t.i.tus of Crotona guiding them, who shall explain to you our thoughts and hopes-but, of this doubt not, thoughts shall be deeds, and hopes success, before this hour to-morrow.”