Here, in an upper room, the old man was brought into the presence of one whom he did not recognise; but when the stranger removed a peruke, and reared himself upright, as Martialis, he hastened to embrace him with a glad cry.
It will be needless to recount what passed between them during the two hours they remained together; or to portray the emotion of Fabricius, already much tried. He perceived that the narrative of the Centurion was substantially the same as that he had heard from Cestus, so far as regarded Neæra; and when he had exhausted his fond ingenuity of inquiry, he put his hand into his bosom and solemnly drew out an article, which he placed in the hand of his companion. It was an intaglio on cornelian, the likeness of a woman’s face, graved with an exquisite art unapproached in modern times. When Martialis saw it he started in surprise.
‘Is there a resemblance?—you start!’ cried Fabricius breathlessly.
‘So great, that I seem to trace Neæra herself in the face,’ replied the young man; ‘and yet it cannot be herself—who, then?’
Fabricius was so overcome with extreme joy that he could not reply for some moments. At last, in tremulous tones, he [pg 397]said, ‘It is her mother’s picture—done before her marriage—not long before. If she be like this, then I shall know the child, and so get my own again. O boy, what a strange working of the gods is here! That I should lose my little maid, and, after long years, you, the son of my old friend, should love her all unknowingly.’
‘Nay, Fabricius, there is nothing strange in my loving her,’ returned Martialis; ‘it was only wonderful that I should have met her, of all women—having seen her and spoken to her, the rest followed infallibly.’
The old man smiled, and rose to go.
‘It grows late—to-morrow I will start for Surrentum. I cannot travel as rapidly as yourself, my Lucius, and, by the time you reach Capreae, I shall have done no more than to have arrived at my journey’s end, though with two days’ start.’
‘Farewell! Let not Cestus nor any one know of my presence,’ said the Centurion.
Fabricius went away home, and on the morrow, though later than he had given orders for, he set out on the southern road, with Cestus, Natta, and a retinue of slaves.