Authors: Unknown
'Oh, no, please!' called the girl, sharply. 'He mustn't have any of the
hay. It--it isn't good for him!' Her eyes were frightened.
Vobiscus turned his head toward her and scowled.
'What have you in this cart, young woman?' he demanded, roughly,
thrusting his arm deep into the hay.
'Please! it's my brother! He is ill! Don't disturb him!'
'Your brother is ill, eh?' scoffed Vobiscus. 'So you load him into a
cart and cover him up with hay! A likely tale!' He began tossing the hay out on
to the road. 'Ah, so you're the sick brother!'
The girl came swiftly to Vobiscus's side and laid her hand on his arm as
Demetrius sat up, frowning darkly.
'We are in trouble,' she confided. 'We came here hoping to find a man
named Marcellus Gallio, knowing he would aid us.'
'Marcellus has been gone for a week.' The scowl on Vobiscus's face
relaxed a little. 'Are you friends of his?'
They both nodded. Vobiscus looked from one to the other, suspiciously.
'You are a slave, fellow!' he said, pointing at Demetrius's ear. A
sudden illumination widened his eyes. 'Ah-ha!' he exclaimed. 'I have it! You're
wanted! Both of you! Only yesterday legionaries from Capri were at the villa
searching for the daughter of Gallus and a Greek slave who were thought to be
on the way to Rome.'
'You are right, sir,' confessed Demetrius. 'This young woman is the
daughter of Legate Gallus, and engaged to marry Marcellus Gallio, who is my
master. My name is Demetrius.' Voices started.
'That sounds like the name,' he mumbled to himself. 'Tell me, did
Marcellus send you a message, some weeks ago?'
'Yes, sir, a small melon, in a box.'
'Any writing?'
'A picture--of a fish.'
Demetrius gazed anxiously up and down the road and stepped out of the
cart. Deep in the vineyard a lumbering load of fruit was slowly moving toward
the gate.
'Before this fellow sees you,' cautioned Vobiscus, 'busy yourself with
that donkey, and keep out of sight. You had better stay here for the present.'
He turned to Diana. 'You will be safe, I think, to go up to the villa. Don't
hurry. Inquire for Antonia, the wife of Appius Kaeso. Tell her who you are. You
two must not be seen together. Everybody in Arpino knows about the search for
you.'
'Perhaps they will be afraid to give me shelter,' said Diana.
'Well, they will tell you, if they are,' replied Vobiscus. 'You can't
stay here! That's sure!'
The tall Macedonian by the villa gate gave her a disapproving look.
'And why do you want to see the wife of Kaeso?' he demanded, sharply.
'Perhaps you had better talk to Appius Kaeso, young fellow.'
'No, his wife,' insisted Diana. 'But I am not a beggar,' she added.
The Macedonian cocked his head thoughtfully and grinned.
'Come with me,' he said, in the soft voice of a conspirator. Leading the
way to the garden, and sighting his mistress, he signed to the newcomer to
proceed, and turned back toward the gate.
Antonia, girlishly pretty in gay colours and a broad-brimmed reed hat,
was supervising a slave as he wielded a pruning-knife in the rose arbour.
Hearing footsteps, she glanced about and studied the approaching stranger.
'You may go!' she said to the slave. He turned to stare at the visitor.
'At once!' commanded Antonia.
'Please forgive my intrusion,' began Diana, 'and my dreadful appearance.
It has been necessary for me to look like a boy.'
Antonia showed a row of pretty teeth.
'Well, maybe it has been necessary,' she laughed--'but you don't look
like a boy.'
'I've tried to,' insisted Diana. 'What is it that gives me away?'
'Everything,' murmured Antonia. She drifted to the stone lectus beside
the path. 'Come, sit down, and tell me what this is all about. They are hunting
for you: is that not so?'
Briefly but clearly, the words tumbling over one another, Diana poured
out her story with a feeling of confidence that she would not be betrayed.
'I mustn't get you into trouble,' she went on, 'but oh--if I might
bathe--if you would hide me away until I had a night's sleep--I could go on.'
Diana's weary eyes were swimming.
'We can take some chances for anyone who loves Marcellus,' said Antonia.
'Come, let us go into the house.' She led the way to the atrium where they
encountered Kaeso emerging from his library. He stopped and blinked a few
times, incredulously. Antonia said, 'Appius, this is the daughter of Legate
Gallus whom the soldiers were inquiring about. . . . Diana, this is my
husband.'
'I shall go away, sir, if you wish.' Diana's voice was plaintive.
'What have you done, that they want to arrest you?' inquired Kaeso,
facing her soberly.
'She ran away from Capri,' volunteered Antonia, 'because she was afraid
of the boy Emperor. Now he is determined to find her.'
'Ugh!' growled Kaeso. 'Little Boots!
Little skunk!'
'Hush!' warned Antonia. 'You'll have us all in prison yet! Now what
shall we do with Diana? Appius, she is engaged to marry Marcellus!'
Kaeso exclaimed joyfully and grasped her hands.
'You're going to stay here with us,' he declared. 'Whoever takes you
away will have to fight! Are you alone? The legionaries said they were looking
also for a Greek slave who had escaped with you.'
'He is down at the vineyard with Vobiscus,' said Antonia. 'And you'd
better do something about it, Appius.'
'How about the servants? How much do they know?'
'Let us not try to make a secret of it,' suggested Antonia. 'We will
tell them the truth. When they know that Diana is to marry Marcellus, and that
the Greek is his slave, there is no one in Arpino who would--'
'Don't be too sure of that!' said Kaeso. 'There's a reward posted, you
know.' He pointed toward the peristyle. 'That Macedonian out there could have
quite a merry fling with a thousand sesterces. I shall tell him--and all of
them--that if anyone gives out information he will be flogged! Or worse!'
'Do as you think best, dear,' consented Antonia, gently. 'But I believe
that trusting them will be safer than threatening them. I think that would be
Marcellus's advice if he were here.'
'Marcellus is always giving people credit for being bigger than they
are,' remembered Kaeso. He gave Diana an inquiring smile. 'Are you one of these
Christians too?'
'I'm afraid not,' sighed Diana. 'It's too hard for me to understand. . .
. Did he'--she glanced toward Antonia--'did he talk much about it while he was
here?'
'Turned the village upside-down with it!' chuckled Kaeso. 'Antonia will
tell you. She has gone Christian too!'
'Marcellus was good for us all,' murmured Antonia. She gave Appius a
sidelong smile, and added, 'including the master of Arpino.'
Young Antony had been so absorbed in his modelling that he had remained
in his studio all day, unaware that they were housing a fugitive. Bursting into
the dining-room, that evening, spluttering apologies for his tardiness, he
stopped suddenly just inside the doorway, and looked into the smiling eyes of
the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, wearing the most beautiful pink
silk stola he had ever seen, failing to recognize it as his mother's.
On three different occasions, Antony had gone with his parents to Rome
for a few days' attendance at great national festivals. There had been fleeting
glimpses of lovely patrician girls in their gay litters and, at a distance, in
their boxes at the circus; but never before had he been so close to a young
woman of Diana's social caste. He faced her now with such spontaneous and
unreserved admiration that Kaeso, glancing up over his shoulder, chuckled
softly.
'Our son, Antony,' said his mother, tenderly. 'Our guest is Diana, dear,
the daughter of Legate Gallus.'
'Oh!' Antony swallowed hard. 'They are after you!' He eased into his
seat across from her, still gazing intently into her face. 'How did you get
there?'
'Diana hoped to find Marcellus,' explained Antonia.
'Do you know Marcellus?' asked Antony, happily.
'She is his girl,' announced the elder Kaeso, adding, in the little
silence that followed, 'And he is a lucky fellow!'
'Y-e-s,' agreed Antony, so fervently that his parents laughed.
Diana smiled appreciatively into Antony's enraptured eyes, but refused
to be merry over his honest adoration. It was no joke.
'I am glad you all like Marcellus so well,' she said, softly. 'He must
have had a good time here. You are a sculptor; aren't you? Your mother told
me.' And when Antony had hitched about, protesting that he hadn't done anything
very important, she said, 'Perhaps you will let me see.' Her voice was
unusually deep-toned for a girl, he thought.
Girls were always screaming what they had to say. Diana's throaty voice
made you feel that you had known her a long time. Antony nodded, with a
defensive smile and a little shrug that hoped she wouldn't be expecting to see
something really good.
'Marcellus taught him about all he knows,' Antonia remarked, gratefully,
as if Diana should be thanked too for this favour.
'He should have been a sculptor,' said Diana, 'instead of a soldier.'
'Right!' declared Antony. 'He detests fighting!'
'But not because he doesn't know how to fight,' Diana hastened to say.
'Marcellus is known to be one of the most expert swordsmen in Rome.'
'Indeed!' exclaimed Kaeso. 'I wouldn't have thought he had any interest
in dangerous sports. He never discussed such things with us.'
'Once I asked him if he had ever killed anybody,' put in Antony, 'and it
made him awfully unhappy. He said he didn't want to talk about it.'
Diana's face had suddenly lost its animation, and Antony knew he had
blundered upon a painful subject. His embarrassment increased when his father
said to her, 'Perhaps you know.'
Without raising her eyes, Diana nodded and gave a little sigh.
'Do you like horses?' asked Kaeso, sensing the need of a new topic.
'Yes, sir,' replied Diana, obviously preoccupied. Glancing from one to
another, she went on, 'Perhaps we should not leave it--just that way. It
wouldn't be quite fair to Marcellus. A couple of years ago he was ordered to
put a man to death--and it turned out that the man was innocent of any crime,
and had been held in high esteem by many people. He has grieved over it.'
'He would!' sympathized Antonia. 'There never was a more gentle or
generous person; always trying to do things for other people.'
Appius Kaeso, eager to lift Diana's depression, seemed anxious to talk
about Marcellus's popularity in Arpino. Soon he was pleased to observe that she
was listening attentively, her eyes misty as he elaborated on the many
kindnesses Marcellus had done, even giving him full credit for the new
swimming-pool.
'He was a crafty fellow,' chuckled Kaeso. 'He would trap you into doing
things like that, and then pretend it was your own idea. Of course, that was to
make you feel good, so you would want to do something else for the people--on
your own account.'
Antony, amazed by his father's admissions, covertly sought the surprised
eyes of his pretty mother, and gave her a slow wink that tightened her lips in
a warning not to risk a comment.
'Marcellus certainly was an unusual fellow,' continued Kaeso. 'It was
easy to see that he had had every advantage and had lived well, but he used to
go down into the melon-fields and work alongside those people as if they were
his own sort: and how they loved it! Every evening, out here on the green, they
would gather about him and he would tell them stories about this man Jesus--from
up in the Jews' country somewhere--who went about performing all manner of
strange miracles. But he must have told you about this man, Diana.'
'Yes,' she nodded, soberly. 'He told me.'
'They put him to death,' said Antonia.
'And Marcellus insists he came to life again,' said Kaeso, 'though I'm
sure there was some mistake about that.'
Antony, who had dropped out of the conversation, and apparently wasn't
hearing a word of it--to judge from his wide-eyed, vacant stare--had attracted
his mother's attention. Kaeso and Diana instinctively followed her perplexed
eyes.
'What are you thinking about, boy?' Kaeso wanted his question to sound
playful.
Ignoring his father's inquiry, Antony turned to Diana.
'Do you know who crucified that Galilean?' he asked, earnestly.
'Yes,' admitted Diana.
'Do I know?'
Diana nodded, and Antony brought his fist down hard on the table.
'Now it all makes sense!' he declared. 'Marcellus killed this man who
had spent his life doing kind things for needy people--and the only way he can
square up for it is to spend
his
life that way!' Antony's voice was
unsteady. 'He can't help himself! He has to make things right with this Jesus!'
Appius and Antonia speechlessly regarded their son with a new interest.
'Yes, but that isn't quite all, Antony,' said Diana. 'Marcellus thinks
this man is to remain in the world forever; believes there is to be a new
government ruled by men of good will; no more fighting; no more stealing--'
'That's a noble thought, Diana,' interposed Kaeso. 'Who doesn't long for
peace? Who wouldn't be glad to see good men rule? Nothing new about that wish.
Indeed, any kind of government would be better than ours! But it's absurd to
hope for such a thing, and a man as bright as Marcellus ought to know it! He is
throwing his life away!'
'Maybe not!' protested Antony. 'Maybe this Jesus didn't throw his life
away! If we're ever to have a better world--well--it has to begin
sometime,
somewhere,
hasn't it? Maybe it has begun now! What do you think, Diana?'
'I--don't--know, Antony.' Diana put both hands over her eyes and shook
her head. 'All I know is, I wish it hadn't happened.'
When three weeks had passed uneventfully, Diana began to wonder whether
it might not now be safe for her to proceed to Rome. Perhaps the young Emperor
had forgotten his grievance and had given up searching for her. Kaeso was not
so optimistic.