Authors: Unknown
A half-hour later, Marcellus came out of his mother's room, and
questioned Tertia with a whisper. She shook her head sadly. He went down to the
library and found his father seated at his desk, with no occupation. The
haggard old Senator pointed to a chair. After a long moment, he cleared his throat
and spoke with a cynical smile.
'Does your unkempt friend think he is a miracle-worker?'
'Peter is strangely gifted, sir,' said Marcellus, feeling himself at a
serious disadvantage.
'Very unusual procedure, I must say! He takes command of the case, discharges
our physician, dismisses us from the room. Do you expect him to perform some
supernatural feat up there?'
'It would not surprise me,' said Marcellus. 'I admit, sir, Peter has no
polish, but he is thoroughly honest. Perhaps we should withhold judgment until
we see what happens.'
'Well, the thing that will happen is the death of Demetrius,' said
Gallio. 'However, it would have happened, in any event. I should have protested
against this nonsense, if there had been the shadow of a hope that Demetrius
might recover with proper treatment. I wonder how long we will have to wait for
this Jew to finish his incantations--or whatever he is doing.'
'I don't know, sir,' confessed Marcellus. After a considerable pause, he
asked, 'Have you learned any particulars of Demetrius's injuries?'
Gallio shook his head.
'You will have heard, of course, that he helped Diana escape from Capri?
It is said that he is wanted on an old charge of assaulting a Tribune.'
Marcellus rose to his feet and leaned over his father's desk.
'She escaped! I haven't heard a word of it. Where is she now?'
'No one seems to know. She is not at home. The Emperor pretends to be
much concerned about her welfare, and has had search parties looking for her.'
'And why is
he
so interested?' asked Marcellus, indignantly; and
when his father made no reply, he added, 'Perhaps Demetrius knows where she is.
Maybe he got into trouble on her account.'
Gallio made a weary, hopeless gesture.
'If Demetrius knows,' he said, 'he will take his secret along with him,
my son.'
Restless and distraught, Marcellus returned to his mother's room and
found her sleeping. Lucia was curled up on a couch. He sat down beside her and
held her hand. The grey-blue light of dawn had begun to invade the dark
corners.
'Is that man still in there?' whispered Lucia.
Marcellus nodded dejectedly, walked to the door, opened it and looked
down the corridor. Tertia had left her post. He closed the door, and resumed
his seat on the couch beside his sister.
Tertia started at the sound of the door-latch. The bearded face of the
massive Galilean peered out into the corridor.
'Go quietly,' whispered Peter, 'and prepare some hot broth.'
'Oh, is he going to live?' breathed Tertia.
Peter closed the door softly, without replying. Sensing that the family
was not yet to be summoned, Tertia slipped down the rear stairway. When she
returned, she tapped gently on the door and Peter opened it only far enough to
admit her, and closed it again. Demetrius, very white, was propped up in the
pillows, awake, but seemingly dazed. He regarded her with a listless glance.
'Do not talk to him yet,' advised Peter, kindly. 'He has come a long
way, and is still bewildered.' He took up his robe and put it on. 'You may feed
him with the broth, as much or as little as he wants. You remain with him. Do
not call his master until he asks for him. Admit no others until he is
stronger. I am going now.'
'But, sir,' protested Tertia, 'are you leaving without seeing the
family? They will want to thank you.'
'I do not want to answer questions,' said Peter, huskily; and Tertia
could see that the big man was fatigued. 'I do not want to talk. I am spent.'
At the door, he turned to look again at Demetrius.
'Courage!' he said, in a low tone of command. 'Remember the promise I
have made--for you to keep! You are to return to your own countrymen, and
testify for our Christos who has made you whole!'
Demetrius's white forehead wrinkled a little, but he made no reply.
After the door had closed, Tertia held a spoonful of the hot broth to
his lips. He took it apathetically, studying her face for recognition. She gave
him more broth and smiled into his perplexed eyes.
'Know me now?' she whispered, wistfully.
'Tertia,' he answered, with an effort; then, 'Call Marcellus.'
She put down the cup and hastened to find the Tribune. The others
crowded about her, asking insistent questions, but she was resolute that only
his master might see him now. Marcellus went swiftly, his heart beating hard.
He took Demetrius's hand.
'Peter has brought you back!' he said, in an awed voice.
Demetrius moistened his lips with a sluggish tongue.
'A long journey,' he mumbled.
'Do you remember anything?'
'A little.'
'See anyone?'
'Not clearly, but there were many voices.'
'Did you want to return?'
Demetrius sighed and shook his head.
'Where is Peter?' asked Marcellus.
'Gone,' said Demetrius.
Tertia, suspecting that his laconic replies meant he wished to talk to
Marcellus privately, slipped out of the room. Demetrius brightened perceptibly.
'Diana is at Arpino--at the villa of Kaeso--in good hands--but--you had
better go to her. The Emperor wants her. She is in danger.'
'Are you well enough, Demetrius,' asked Marcellus, nervously, 'to let me
go--at once?'
'Yes, sir. I shall be leaving, too. Peter made a vow. I am to return to
Greece.'
'For the new Kingdom!' Marcellus regarded him with an expression of
deference. 'You have been given a great responsibility, full of danger. I shall
make out your certificate of manumission--to-day.'
'I shall be sorry to leave you, sir,' sighed Demetrius.
'Nor do I want you to go,' declared Marcellus. 'But if your life has
been saved with a vow, you must fulfil it--at any cost!'
Tertia had opened the door a little way, her anxious frown hinting that
there had been enough talk. Marcellus nodded for her to come in. She brought
the bowl of broth to the bedside. Demetrius took it hungrily.
'That's good!' said Marcellus. 'You're gaining fast.'
Feeling that the other members of the family should be notified without
further delay, he went to his mother's room, finding them all there. He blurted
out the news that Demetrius had recovered and was having his breakfast.
'Impossible!' said Gallio, starting toward the door.
Marcellus intercepted him.
'Wait a little, sir,' he advised. 'He's not very strong yet. It is an
effort for him to talk.'
'But I want to speak to this Galilean!' said Gallio. 'This is no small
thing that has happened. Demetrius was dying! Sarpedon said so!'
'Peter has left, sir. Tertia says he was very weary and didn't want to
see anyone.'
'How do you think he did all this?' inquired Cornelia.
'He is a Christian,' replied Marcellus. 'Some of these men who lived
close to Jesus have developed peculiar powers. It was no great surprise to me,
mother, that Demetrius recovered. He, too, is a Christian. He says that Peter
made a vow for him to keep. He is to go back to Greece and work among his own
countrymen--'
'What kind of work?' Lucia wanted to know.
'Enlisting people to support the new Kingdom,' said her brother.
'Won't he get into trouble--talking about a new Kingdom?' she asked.
'Doubtless,' agreed Marcellus. 'But Demetrius will not let that restrain
him.'
'Perhaps he may be glad to return to Greece,' said Lucia. 'Didn't you
tell me he was fond of a girl in Athens? What was her name--Theodosia?'
The Senator said he was going down to have his breakfast in the library,
and asked Marcellus to join him. Cornelia said she was going back to sleep.
Lucia went to her suite, and, a few minutes later, tapped softly on
Demetrius's door. Tertia admitted her, and left the room.
'We are so glad you are better,' said Lucia. 'Marcellus says you are
going home to Greece.' She laid a ring in his hand. 'I have kept it safely for
you. Now you should have it back.'
Demetrius regarded the ring with brooding eyes, and rubbed it
caressingly between his palms. Lucia gave him a sly smile.
'Perhaps you will give it to Theodosia,' she said.
He smiled, but sobered instantly.
'She may find it a costly gift,' he said. 'It might not be fair--to ask
Theodosia to share my dangers.'
Sarpedon came in now and stood at the foot of the bed, silently viewing
his patient with baffled eyes. It was plain to see that Demetrius was surprised
to see him.
'The physician,' said Lucia. 'Do you remember his being here in the
night?'
'No,' said Demetrius. 'I don't remember.'
'What did he do--that big fellow from Galilee?' queried Sarpedon, moving
around to the other side of the bed.
'He prayed,' said Demetrius.
'What god does he pray to?' asked Sarpedon.
'There is only one,' replied Demetrius.
'A Jewish god?'
'No, not Jewish. God is the father of all men--everywhere. Anyone may
pray to him in the name of Jesus, who has come to establish a Kingdom of
justice and peace.'
'Ah, this new Christian heresy!' said Sarpedon. 'Is your friend from
Palestine aware that he can be arrested for pretending to heal diseases by such
practices?'
'Pretending?' exclaimed Lucia. 'He wasn't pretending when he healed
Demetrius.'
'He should be reported to the authorities,' said Sarpedon, walking
stiffly to the door.
'One would think that a physician would rejoice to see his patient get
well,' remarked Lucia, 'no matter how he was healed.'
Sarpedon made no comment. Closing the door emphatically, he proceeded
downstairs and entered the library where the Senator and Marcellus were at
breakfast. Abandoning his customary suavity, he voiced an indignant protest.
'Come, Sarpedon, sit down,' said the Senator, amiably, 'and have
breakfast with us. We do not blame you for feeling as you do. But this is an
unusual occurrence. You did the best you could. Doubtless you are pleased that
the Greek is recovering, even if the treatment was--what shall we
say?--irregular?'
Sarpedon refused the fruit that Decimus obsequiously offered him, and
remained standing, flushed with anger.
'It might be unfortunate,' he said, frostily, 'if it were known that
Senator Gallio had called in one of the Christian seditionists to treat an
illness in his household.'
Marcellus leaped from his chair and confronted Sarpedon, face to face.
'You--and your Hippocratic oath!' he shouted. 'You are supposed to be
interested in healing! Has it come to pass that your profession is so
jealous--and wretched of heart--that it is enraged when a man's life is
restored by some other means than your futile remedies?'
Sarpedon backed toward the door.
'You will regret that speech, Tribune Marcellus!' he declared, as he
stamped out of the room.
For a few minutes, neither the Senator nor Marcellus spoke, as they
resumed their places at the table.
'I had hoped we might conciliate him,' said Gallio. 'His pride has been
wounded. He can cause us much trouble. If he lets it be known that we are
harbouring Demetrius--'
'True--we must get Demetrius out of here!'
'Will he be able to travel--to-day?'
'He must! I am riding to Arpino. He shall go with me.'
'Nonsense!' scoffed the Senator. 'He cannot sit a horse to-day! I have
it! We will send him in a carriage to Pescara. They will hardly be looking for
him at an Adrian port.' He rose and paced the room. 'I shall go with him. My
presence in the carriage may help him to evade too close scrutiny. Besides, I
may be of some service in securing his passage. If there is no ship sailing at
once, I may be able to charter one that would see him as far as Brundisium. He
should have no difficulty finding a ship there, bound for Corinth.'
'This is most generous of you, sir,' declared Marcellus. 'If every man
treated his slaves--'
'Well, as for that'--the Senator chuckled a little--'it has not been my
custom to turn out my carriage and personally escort my slaves when they embark
for foreign lands. Demetrius's case is different. He has had his life handed
back to him in an extraordinary manner, and he must keep the pledge that was
made for him. Otherwise--he has no right to live!'
'You would make a good Christian, sir,' said Marcellus, realizing at
once--by his father's sudden scowl--that the remark was untimely.
'Honourable men were keeping their word, my son, long before this
Christian religion was thought of. . . . Come, let us arrange to be on our way.
This is not a bad day for it. Rome will not be looking for fugitives this
morning. The Ludi Romani will be the city's only concern. Tell Lentius to get
out the carriage.'
Skirting the rim of the city by a circuitous route, and avoiding the
congested highways until they were a dozen miles to the east, the carriage, and
the horseman who followed at a little distance, had proceeded without being
challenged. Sometimes they had been detained at intersections by the heavy
traffic pouring in from the country, but no one had questioned them.
The Senator's belief that this might be safely accomplished had proved
correct. If a man wished to leave Rome inconspicuously, this was the day for
it. The Ludi Romani--most venerable and popular of all the festivals--was at hand.
Though still three days in the offing, the annual celebration in honour of
Jupiter was casting a pleasant shadow before it.
Already the populace was in a carnival mood, the streets crowded with
riotous merrymakers. Residents were decorating their houses with gay banners
and bunting. Their guests were arriving from afar. The noise and confusion
increased hourly as every avenue of approach to the capital was jammed with
tourists, home-comers, minstrels, magicians, hawkers, dancers, acrobats,
pickpockets, and travelling menageries of screeching monkeys and trained bears.