‘Ah no, Caesar—the drug was harmless for that, but potent enough to make him no better than a clod for some hours; and a mercy for him, as you would say, had you seen his state of mind. We may do what we please with him.’
The steward spoke the truth, for, in the handling to which the inanimate Pretorian was subjected, he exhibited no symptom of consciousness. Underneath his cuirass they found a stout leather belt buckled round his waist. Attached to the belt was a pouch securely fastened, and from this the Emperor drew several scrolls of papyri—the paper of the ancients, [pg 365]made from the Egyptian plant of that name. Taking these to the lamp on the tripod, Tiberius turned his back on his trusty steward, and proceeded to unroll them with eager trembling fingers. He glanced through the written contents of each with a rapid practised eye, but found nothing therein, save dry official reports from the deputy in command of the Pretorian camp at Rome. His countenance fell gradually as he proceeded, and when he arrived at the end, he gave vent to a muttered ejaculation of disappointment. One other scroll remained, which was not of an official nature, but evidently a late production of a bookseller’s shop.
It may be as well to explain that the book of the Romans in no point resembled that of modern days, inasmuch as binding and pages formed no component parts. The work of a Roman author was written on one continuous strip of papyrus or parchment, of more or less length. This was rolled round a stick of appropriate size in the same manner as a modern map or chart, the exterior being neatly finished and lettered with the title of the book. It is probable enough that the latter was also exhibited on a ticket attached to the end of the roll, as affording a readier means of ascertaining any particular book, when laid together on the shelves of the library, or dropped endwise into the circular boxes used for their transport.
The remaining roll or book, which the Emperor now took up, was sheathed in a purple parchment covering. Sliding off the latter, he found the volume to be of a nature he had already guessed with the accuracy of experience. It was a satire, a vers-de-societé, by one of the poetasters of the day, and very showily got up. As the outer sheath was removed a small slip of paper fell out. It was an epistle, which ran as follows:—
‘Knowing you must at times feel dull with an out-of-the-world feeling, I have sent the accompanying volume in the hope it may prove acceptable; it is only small, and will not add much to the bulk and weight of your despatches. It is the last new thing by Varius, and quite the rage. I have a very poor opinion of the composition myself; but, as an elegant and artistic specimen of the publisher’s workmanship, I think it is as admirable as any I have yet seen—even to the mute wood itself, whose ornamentation you will find well worthy of examination. It is mournful to think that the bookmaker’s art should be so needed nowadays to eke out an author’s want of wit.’
Now it happened that Tiberius, who was very devoted to literature, had already perused the satire he now held. Every new publication of the city was punctually forwarded to him, as might be expected. He, therefore, unrolled the paper, which was about a yard and a half in length, and six or eight inches wide, and glanced his eye down the beautifully charactered effusion. There was also a portrait of the author included on the scroll; but as it was all identical with what he had already seen, he passed it over and bestowed more attention upon the wooden roller, to observe if there was anything about it worthy of more particular notice than he had before given to the one in his own possession. The little roller was plain and coloured black, but each end was ornamented with a boss, rather of conical shape, carved and picked out with brilliant colours. Tiberius gazed at it and strove to compare it mentally with his own specimen. He read the accompanying letter again, and tried hard to discover the peculiar beauties of the wooden cylinder, so particularly recommended. He failed to perceive anything extraordinary, but there seemed to be something in the bulk thereof which struck him as unusual. Turning to Zeno, he despatched him to his library to bring him his own copy. The Greek soon returned, and Tiberius compared the two volumes. They were exactly similar, being copies of the same edition; but, when he placed the wooden cylinders together, he saw at once there was a difference in their circumferences. That which belonged to the Prefect was very perceptibly thicker; but, as the bosses affixed to the ends remained the same size, it followed, that the margin of the projection was less in the Prefect’s than his own. The Emperor knitted his brows, and riveted his gaze on the two cylinders in profound meditation. Then he once more studied the nameless epistle to refresh his memory; after which he bestowed another examination on the books. Something in the relative weights of the cylinders seemed to strike him, so, arranging the rolls of paper to which they were attached as to interfere as little as possible, he balanced the rollers on the tips of his fingers of both hands. Then, as if dubious, he called in the aid of Zeno, briefly pointing out the facts of the case. The Greek took the cylinders into his own hands, and after minutely examining them, he weighed them [pg 367]as his master had done. For a further test he tapped the thicker roller with a little metal key, and listened attentively to the sound. Then he balanced them again, and finally gave it as his opinion, that the thicker roller was lighter than the smaller one, and, moreover, sounded as though it were hollow. The eyes of Emperor and steward exchanged a significant flash.
‘Such a condition is neither usual nor necessary,’ said Tiberius. ‘Let us try and discover the reason.’
The Greek took the suspected cylinder into his long supple fingers, and made a very minute scrutiny of the junction of the bosses at either end. Then, by patient and delicate, but firm manipulation, he proceeded to try if they were detachable. After a considerable amount of persuasive force of handling, one of the bosses yielded a hair’s-breadth. He renewed his efforts, and the Emperor’s eyes glistened. The boss became looser and looser, and in a minute’s time came off altogether. They were now enabled to perceive that the original bosses had been fitted to a new cylinder. That one which had been removed, instead of being affixed in the usual way to a flat surface, had been hollowed a little to receive the end of the roller, and then tightened with a thin application of glue. The roller, as Zeno had suspected, was hollow. He turned it upside down and a little scroll of very thin paper dropped out. The fingers of the Emperor closed on it like lightning. His eyes flamed with a ferocious delight as he carefully unrolled a few inches of the fragile document and read therein.
‘Haste—bring tablets, paper, anything—like the wind!’ he whispered excitedly. Zeno hastened away, and Tiberius, huddling against the lamp, devoured the contents of the secret missive with eyes starting from his head, and mouth agape in astonishment. Rage, hate, and delirious joy thrilled him as he read. His hands, his body, and his limbs trembled with the force of his excitement. Swiftly reading to the close, he dropped the little quivering paper, and laughed with triumph. Startled by his own voice he looked fearfully round at Martialis; but the Centurion lay deathlike in the profound stupor of his drugged slumbers. With uneasy, hasty steps the Emperor paced the narrow dungeon, muttering inaudibly until Zeno entered with writing materials. Then he sat [pg 368]down to make a copy of the secret, and evidently fateful, missive intended for the eyes of the Prefect alone.
The task occupied longer than it would otherwise have done, owing to the agitated mind and trembling fingers of the writer; but at length it came to an end. The original letter was restored to its hiding-place in the roller, and the boss skilfully replaced by Zeno, who carefully heated the incrusted glue over the flame of the lamp to cause it to hold firmly.