Part 33 (2/2)
”Watchman, what of the night?”--ISAIAH XXI. 11.
And far away beyond the noise and tumult which ranged around the foot of the Palatine, the honey-coloured moon illumined with her weird and ghostly light the vast arena of the gigantic Amphitheatre, where a company of the town guard, under the command of an aedile, were busy collecting the dead.
A narrow streak of those same ghostly rays found its way through the folds of the curtains which spanned the window of Dea Flavia's room. It peeped in boldly, stirring up myriads of impalpable atoms and whipping them into a living line of silver. It wandered further, and finding a golden head that tossed restlessly upon a silk-covered pillow, it alighted on it, making the white face appear ghostlier still, and the wide eyes to s.h.i.+ne like stars.
A timid step shuffled across the floor.
”Blanca, is it thou?” whispered Dea Flavia, as quickly she raised herself up, squatting now upon the bed, with one hand pressed against the pillow and the other to her breast.
”Aye, mistress, it is I!” came in whispered response.
”Well? Have they returned?”
”Aye! gracious lady. Half an hour ago.”
”Did they find him?”
”Yes.”
”Is he...?”
There was a pause, whilst from afar came that strange low sound of thousands of men murmuring, which is so akin to the booming of the waves upon a rocky sh.o.r.e.
”The praefect of Rome was in a swoon when they found him in the imperial tribune,” said the young slave-girl, still speaking under her breath.
”Nolus and Dion carried him to the litter, and once or twice he groaned whilst they carried him.”
A gentle breeze wafted the curtains into the room; the rays of the waning moon fell full upon the huddled figure on the bed, with the stream of gold falling each side of the set, pale face, and the large blue eyes now strangely veiled with tears.
”Where is ... where is the praefect now?” asked Dea Flavia.
”In the room out of thy studio, gracious mistress, as thou didst direct.
Dion did prepare a couch for him there, and hath laid him down.”
”And the physician?”
”The physician hath seen him. He saith that the praefect is weak with loss of blood. His shoulders, arms and legs have been torn by the panther's claws, but these wounds are not deep.”
”And ... and the dagger thrust?”
”The physician saith that the dagger must have glanced off the bone. I did not quite understand what he said, and Dion explained it badly.”
”He did not say that there was poison in the dagger?”
”I think not, gracious lady; for the physician said that the praefect would soon be well if he were carefully tended. He is very weak with loss of blood.”
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