Authors: Unknown
But it was something more than an impulsive desire to avenge his
humiliation that led the physician to betray the family whose lucrative
patronage he had inherited from his noted father.
Had the unhappy incident occurred a few weeks earlier, Sarpedon would
have pocketed his indignation; but times had changed. Nothing was now to be had
by currying favour with the conservatives. Indeed, under the present dynasty
one had far better cut loose from such dead weight and not risk going down with
it. Young Caligula had no patience with the elder statesmen who believed in
national economy; who viewed his reckless extravagances with stern disapproval.
It was common knowledge that Little Boots intended to break the grey-haired
obstructionists at the earliest opportunity.
Sarpedon knew Quintus, though he had seen nothing of him since his
sudden elevation to a place of prominence in Caligula's court. Fortunately for
himself, old Tuscus had died in the spring; and Sarpedon, who had ministered to
the aged poet-statesman's infirmities, had had no occasion to see anything more
of their household. He did not know whether he was to be retained as the family
physician, now that the old man was gone. Doubtless it would be greatly to his
advantage if he could show Quintus which side he was on in the struggle between
Little Boots and the Senate.
Hot and eager though he was, Sarpedon had too much sense to go plunging
into Quintus's august presence with his betrayal of the Gallios. With dignity
he asked for an appointment, and restlessly waited the three days which elapsed
before the high and mighty Quintus could give him an audience. This delay,
however, had enabled Sarpedon to improve his story; for, in the meantime, his
butler had learned from Decimus that the Senator and Marcellus had made off
with the convalescent Greek on some secret journey.
Having fought his way through the swirling crowds, and arriving at the
Imperial Palace dishevelled and perspiring, Sarpedon was left standing (for
there was no place to sit down) in the great gold and marble and ivory foyer
swarming with provincial potentates waiting their turn for favours. Though it
was still early in the forenoon, the garishly arrayed dignitaries represented
every known state of intoxication, ranging from rude clownishness to
repulsively noisy nausea.
At length the physician was permitted a brief interview with Quintus,
who was prepared to make short work of him until he said he had information
about Gallio's Greek slave Demetrius. At that, Quintus gave attention. A Jewish
Christian had been invited into the Gallio villa to perform mummeries over the
Greek, who had been slightly wounded. Tribune Marcellus, far from dead, had
brought the Christian quack to the villa, and had made it plain enough that he
too was thoroughly in sympathy with these Christian revolutionists. The Senator
and Marcellus had spirited the Greek out of the house and set off with him,
doubtless to hide him somewhere.
Quintus was deeply interested, but all the thanks Sarpedon received was
a savage denunciation for waiting so long before bringing the news.
'You always were a bungler, Sarpedon!' yelled Quintus. 'Had you not been
the son of your wise father, no one would trust you to purge a dog of his
worms!'
Having thus learned where he stood in the esteem of the Emperor's
favourite, Sarpedon bowed deeply and backed himself out of the room and into
the stinking foyer. One hardly knew, these days, how to conduct oneself with
any hope of favour at Caligula's hands. One thing was sure, the Empire was on the
way toward ruin; but, long before Caligula crashed, he would have seen to it
that everybody who believed in any decencies at all was battered into silent
submission.
Quintus did not immediately notify Little Boots of Sarpedon's
disclosures, thinking it better to capture his quarry. Perhaps he might learn
something that would please the Emperor. Marcellus was alive. Without question,
he would know the whereabouts of Diana.
A small contingent of seasoned Palace Guards was detailed to put the
Gallio villa under surveillance and report all movements there.
Next day they brought back word that the Senator had returned alone in
his carriage; but so great was the confusion at the Palace that Quintus decided
to wait a more convenient season for action. The court festivities were at such
a pitch that there was no room for anything more. The Senator's case would have
to wait. Meantime, he told the guards, they should continue their watch at the
villa. If Tribune Marcellus showed his face, they were to place him under
arrest.
This affair was likely to cause the haughty Tullus some embarrassment
before they had done with it; but (Quintus shrugged) let Tullus take his
medicine, and like it. He had no more use for Tullus than he had for Marcellus.
It pleased him now to reflect that he had suggested Tullus for the dirty job of
cleaning the Christians out of the Catacombs. Quintus chuckled. It would be
droll, indeed, if Tullus found himself obliged to arrest his long-time friend:
his brother-in-law, too!
Late in the night of the third day of the Ludi Romani, the news was
brought to Quintus that Diana had just arrived at her mother's home,
accompanied by Marcellus.
Little Boots, who had been drinking heavily all day, was in a truculent
mood, cursing and slapping his attendants as they tried to get him to bed.
Ordinarily, after a whole day's drunkenness, His Majesty could be put away
quietly; but such was the infernal din on the streets below and throughout the
Palace that the Emperor was wide awake with a bursting head.
Even Quintus was coming in for his share of abuse. He found himself
responsible for the noise of the celebrants and the shocking condition of the
palace. Furthermore, declared the thick-tongued Emperor, the ceremonies to-day
in the Forum Julium had been a disgrace; and whose fault was that, if not
Quintus's? Never had there been anything so tiresome as that interminable Ode
to Jupiter! Never had there been anything so dull as those solemn choruses!
'Yes--but, Your Majesty, were we not obliged to follow the ancient
ritual?' Quintus had asked in honeyed tones. Immediately he repented of having
tried to defend himself. It was the wrong time to answer Little Boots with a
'yes--but,' no matter what justification warranted it. His Majesty went into a
shrieking, slobbering rage! He was aweary of being served by fools. High time,
he felt, to give some better man a chance to do his bidding. In nothing--in
nothing
had Quintus proved himself an able minister!
At that point, Quintus, needing to improve his standing in the Emperor's
regard, had motioned them all out of the imperial bedchamber.
'The daughter of Gallus has been found, Your Majesty,' he announced.
'Ha!' shouted Little Boots. 'So--at last--your snails caught up with
her, eh? And where did they find this beautiful icicle?'
'At home, sire. She arrived there but an hour ago.'
'Did your favourite Greek bring her back?'
'No, sire, the Greek has been hidden by Senator Gallio. Diana was
brought back by Tribune Marcellus, who was thought to have drowned himself.'
'Oh? so he turned up, eh? The lover! And what has he been doing since he
was supposed to have been drowned?'
'In seclusion somewhere, sire. It is reported that he is a Christian.'
'What?' screamed Little Boots. 'A Christian! And why should a Tribune
consort with such rabble? Does the fool think he can lead a revolution? Let him
be arrested for sedition! Bring him here at once! Now!'
'It is very late, Your Majesty, and tomorrow is a crowded day.'
'We are weary unto death, Quintus, with these tiresome ceremonies. What
manner of torture does old Jupiter inflict on us tomorrow?'
'Your Majesty attends the games in the forenoon. Then there is the
reception to the Praetorian Guard and the Senate, followed by the banquet for
them--and their women.'
'Speeches, no doubt,' groaned Little Boots.
'It is the custom, sire, and after the banquet there is a procession to
the Temple of Jupiter where the Senate does its homage at twilight.'
'A dull occasion, Quintus. Has it occurred to you that this banquet for
the sullen old dotards might be enlivened with something besides oratory?'
'Your Majesty will have diverting company at table--the daughter of
Herod Antipas, sire, who is the Tetrarch of Galilee and Peraea.'
'That scrawny, jingling wench, Salome?' yelled Little Boots. 'We have
seen quite enough of her!'
'But I thought Your Majesty had found her very entertaining,' said
Quintus, risking a sly smile. 'Was she not eager to please Your Majesty?'
Little Boots made a wry face. Suddenly his heavy eyes lighted.
'Invite the daughter of Gallus! Let her be seated at our right, and
Salome at our left. We will encourage Salome to repeat some of her best
stories.' He laughed painfully, holding his head.
'Would not Legate Gallus consider that a grave offence to his daughter,
sire?'
'It will serve her right,' mumbled Little Boots, 'for bestowing her
precious smiles upon a Tribune who hopes to see another government. Send for
him without delay, and let him be confined in the Palace prison!'
Quintus made a fluttering gesture of protest.
'Imprisoned--as a Tribune--of course,' Little Boots hastened to add.
'Make him comfortable. And let Diana be bidden to this banquet. You,
personally, may extend the invitation, Quintus, early tomorrow. If she is
reluctant to accept, suggest that the Emperor might be more disposed to deal
leniently with her Christian friend should she be pleased to honour this
occasion with her presence.'
'But I thought Your Majesty had been attracted to Diana, and had hoped
to win her favour. Would it serve Your Majesty best to threaten her?
Perhaps--if she were made much of by the Emperor, the daughter of Gallus might
forget her fondness for Marcellus.'
'No!' barked Little Boots. 'What that haughty creature needs is not
flattery, but a flick of the whip! And as for her lover'--he cocked his head
and grinned bitterly--'we have other plans for him.'
'He is the son of Senator Gallio, sire!' said Quintus.
'All the worse for him!' shouted Little Boots. 'We'll give the old man a
lesson too--and the Senate can draw its own conclusions!'
No less a personage than Quintus himself, attended by a handsomely
uniformed contingent of Equestrian Knights, delivered the banquet invitation to
Diana. Summoned early from her rooms, she met him in the atrium. She was pale
and her eyes were swollen with weeping, but she bore herself proudly. Paula,
dazed and frightened, stood by her side.
Quintus deferentially handed her the ornate scroll; and while Diana
helplessly fumbled with the gaudy seals, he thought to save a little precious
time, for the forenoon was well advanced and the day was loaded with duties. He
explained the message. Diana gasped involuntarily.
'Will you say to His Majesty,' spoke up Paula, trying to steady her
trembling voice, 'that the daughter of Legate Gallus is far too heartsick to be
a suitable dinner companion for the Emperor?'
'Madame'--Quintus bowed stiffly--'this imperial summons is not addressed
to the wife of the Legate Gallus, but to his daughter. As she is present, she
shall answer for herself.'
'My mother has spoken the truth, sir,' said Diana, weakly. 'Please tell
the Emperor that I must be excused. I am too ill.'
'Perhaps you should be told,' said Quintus, coldly, 'that your friend
Tribune Marcellus, now resting in a dungeon at the Palace, will be arraigned tomorrow
on a charge of sedition. The Emperor's judgment in this case may be tempered
somewhat if the daughter of the Legate Gallus is disposed to be gracious to His
Majesty.'
'Very well.' Diana's voice was barely audible. 'I shall come.'
'If my husband were here,' announced Paula, throwing all prudence aside,
'some blood would flow before this cruel thing came to pass!'
'Madame--you are overwrought,' observed Quintus. 'May I suggest that it
is not to your advantage to make such statements? I shall not report this to
His Majesty--but I advise you to be more discreet.' Bowing deeply, he turned
and marched out through the peristyle, followed stiffly by his retinue.
*
*
Marcellus was surprised at the consideration he was shown by the Palace
Guards who arrested him and the officials at the prison. Perhaps it was due to
his rank. Roused from a deep sleep, at the Gallus villa, he had gone down to
the atrium to face a Centurion attended by a deputation of twenty legionaries.
Aware that it was useless to resist so formidable a party, he had asked
permission to return to his room for his personal belongings, and the request
was courteously granted. It was a sorry parting. Diana clung to him, weeping
piteously.
'Be brave, darling,' he had entreated. 'Perhaps this is only to
humiliate me. The Emperor will probably rebuke me--and set me free, with an
admonition. Let us not despair.'
Tearing himself away, he had obediently followed the Centurion. They had
offered him a horse; had put him in the midst of them; no one of the drunken
merrymakers on the streets could have suspected that he was under arrest.
At the Palace he was taken to the prison. It was subterranean, but well
lighted and ventilated, and the room they gave him was comfortably furnished.
The Centurion informed him that he was free to notify his friends of his
whereabouts; his messages would be dispatched forthwith, and any visitors would
be admitted.
Marcellus sat down at once before the desk and wrote a letter.
'Marcipor: I am in the Palace prison, held on a charge of treason.
Inform my family. You will be permitted to visit me, but perhaps it would be
better if the Senator does not subject himself to such a painful errand. I am
well treated. Bring me the Robe.--Marcellus.'