Part 17 (2/2)
The thin arms wriggled like worms in his mighty grasp.
”Pity, my lord! Pity!” came in hoa.r.s.e murmurs from the bundle of rags under his foot.
”Pity? Of that have I in plenty,” he replied gruffly. ”But methinks 'twas not pity ye sought by trying to strangle me.”
”Pity, my lord, my children are starving....”
”Pity, my lord, I have not tasted food to-day----”
”Pity, my lord!” retorted the praefect with a grim laugh, and mimicking the wretched man's words, ”I would have murdered you had I had the power.”
Then he relaxed his grip, and with his foot pushed the bundle of dirt further away from him. He groped in his wallet and drew out some silver coins. These he threw, one by one, into the midst of the shapeless rags, and he stooped forward, striving in the darkness to see something of the faces that were wilfully hidden from him, something of the mouths that had uttered the pitiable groans.
Vaguely he discerned the outline of cadaverous cheeks, of sunken temples, of furtive eyes veiled by thin lids; he saw the glances half of fear, wholly of doubt, that were thrown on the silver coins, heard the muttered oaths, the incipient quarrel over the distribution of the unexpected h.o.a.rd.
Then did the strange perplexities which had a.s.sailed him throughout this night find expression in bitter words. He threw down a few more coins and said slowly:
”These are for pity's sake, and in the name of One Whom mayhap ye will know one day. He died that ye should live! Bear that in mind and ponder on it. Mayhap ye will find the solution to that riddle. That such as you should live in eternity, therefore did He die.... When ye have understood this and can explain the value of your lives as compared with His, come and tell it to the praefect of Rome and he will shower on you wealth beyond your dreams.”
Then, without waiting to hear protestations, or heeding the ironical laughter that came from the bewildered night-prowlers, he turned on his heels and resumed his interrupted walk along the slope of the hill.
The footpath--scarce more than a beaten track--soon disappeared altogether. Presently Taurus Antinor paused and called to Folces to come up to him.
”Methinks we must be near the house,” he said.
”Aye, gracious lord,” replied the man, ”just on thy right, some two hundred steps from here. The way is very dark, wilt permit me to walk by thy side?”
”Walk by my side an thou wilt. Thou canst direct me more easily; but as to the darkness I can see through it well.”
”But my gracious lord did not see those evil malefactors that set upon him.”
”No, Folces, I was dreaming as I walked. They came upon me unawares.”
”And my gracious lord allowed them to go. They were notorious miscreants.”
”They were the embodiment of a strange riddle, good Folces. They helped to puzzle me--and Heaven knows that I was puzzled enough ere I saw those miserable wretches. Mayhap some day I'll understand the riddle which their abject persons did represent. But now tell me, is this the house?”
The wanderers had struck to their right and walked on some two hundred paces. Now they paused beside one of those square mud-walled boxes, of which they could only discern the narrow door made of unplaned wood, and through the c.h.i.n.ks of which a faint light glimmered weirdly. Two or three steps fas.h.i.+oned in the earth itself led down toward the threshold.
Taurus Antinor descended these and knocked boldly on the door.
It was opened from within, and under the rough lintel there appeared the figure of a man of short stature, clad in a long grey tunic. His head, which he held forward in an attempt to peer through the darkness, looked almost unnaturally large, owing to the ma.s.s of loose greyish hair that fell away from his forehead like a mane, and the long beard that straggled down upon his breast.
”May we enter, friend?” asked Taurus Antinor.
At the sound of the voice the man drew aside, and through the narrow doorway was now revealed the interior of the house--a straight, square room, with a few wooden seats disposed about, and at the top end an oblong table covered with a snow-white cloth. An aperture in the wall appeared to lead to an inner chamber, which must indeed have been of diminutive size, for the central room seemed to occupy almost the whole of the interior of the house. Suspended by an iron chain from the ceiling above there hung a small lamp in which flickered a tiny flame fed by some sweet-smelling oil. It threw but little light around and left deep and curious shadows in the angles of the room.
From out these, as the praefect entered, there emerged the figure of an old woman, with smooth grey hair half-hidden beneath a kerchief of strange oriental design, and straight dark robe, foreign in cut and appearance to those usually seen in the streets of Rome.
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