Now, on the thirteenth of February, the villa near Rodumna was the scene of an agitated discussion. The owner of the house had taken the precaution of sending off all his slaves the day before, down the river to an outlying part of his property. Only two trustworthy men had been kept back, and these, as the sun rose over the hills, prepared a country breakfast for the assembled party, and then went with Magus into the garden, where they mounted watch over the high-road and carefully-barred gate. At the back of the house, where a small door-way opened to the south-east, Herodianus posted himself, in accordance with his particular wish. The songs of Pindar,[117] and a jar of the best wine that Rufinus could produce—this was all he should need to keep his spirits up, even if the sitting should last until sundown.
The centurion first made his report. His efforts had been chiefly directed to sounding the feeling of the common soldiers, and he had traversed the country in every direction. Everywhere he had been met with cautious reserve, or even with frank distrust. He had several times been taken for one of those imperial spies,[118] whose business it was to betray an incautious speaker into some rash utterance of opinion. These agents, who had hitherto been employed only in Rome, had, since Caesar’s suspicions had grown to such a head, made their appearance among the troops stationed in the provinces, and had fomented much ill-feeling. It happened that Lugdunum had just lately been the scene of the cruel execution of an officer, who was universally beloved but who, under the influence of wine, had spoken some inconsiderate words and who had been denounced by one of these treacherous informers. The centurion had taken good care not to weaken this prejudice against himself, indeed he had occasionally risked his own safety in playing the part thus forced upon him. In other places, where he had not been suspected, but had been able to talk frankly and freely with the men, he found that two facts especially, as reported from the metropolis, had made a deep impression; one was the unhappy end of the miserable Julia, and the other Caesar’s action against Cornelius Cinna. Cinna, he said, had already a strong and enthusiastic following among the common soldiers. It had never been forgotten in the army, that he had so often spoken in the Senate on their behalf and, more particularly, had taken their part against the unjust partiality shown to the praetorian guard, but he believed it would be harder to win over the military tribunes and the rest of the superior officers. Among them Domitian’s ascendancy was on the whole undisputed.
These were the most important results of the old centurion’s experience; the assembly expressed their thanks and their admiration for his indefatigable energy, and the worthy man, whom Cinna and even Nerva had greatly undervalued—perhaps because they mistook his modesty for incapacity—rose at once to a high place in their estimation. Indeed, it presently proved that the enquiries of Trajan, Nerva and Cornelius Cinna had yielded relatively smaller results than those of this unpretending soldier.
Ulpius Trajanus, who spoke next, frankly admitted that, in spite of all his efforts, he had only occasionally spoken to a few officers and centurions, and had convinced himself that, so far as he was concerned, he could not hope for any success excepting by declaring himself, particularly to the divisions of the troops he had formerly commanded.
At these words Caius Aurelius seemed quite delighted—he evidently thought that the speaker had hit the turning-point of the whole discussion.
“You know,” Ulpius Trajanus went on, “that one of the three legions stationed here was under my command, in the campaign on the Rhine against the Germans.[119] My men were blindly devoted to me, and if I were to stand before them to-day and say: Soldiers, behold your general an exile, persecuted, hunted down, because he defends the cause of truth, justice and freedom.—I am convinced, especially after what our worthy centurion has told us, that they would rise as one man to resist the tyrant. The only question is, whether the adherence of one legion is enough as a beginning of the revolt; whether on the contrary so small a spark might not be at once trodden out. Ah! my friends, had I only guessed, when I led my army out of Hispania across the endless wastes of southern Gaul to the shores of the Rhine—had I only dreamed then, that the real enemy of our country dwelt in the Palatium! had I known that the eternal city was more gravely menaced by the canker at her heart, than by the wild hordes of the Teutobergian and Hercynian forests! But I was no more than a soldier, thinking of nothing but the task in hand, and never troubling my head about anything beyond the field of battle. At that time I could easily have overthrown the reign of terror, have set the Senate free to act, and so have obtained a legal verdict against the archtraitor, who now treads our sacred rights under foot with impunity. Why did I not then understand your misery and evil plight! I almost feel as if that were my own fault, which is, in fact, only the ordering of fate. Just lately, when I have been endeavoring to prepare the soil for our plans, the curse of delay has stared me in the face with heart-breaking clearness. Of all the thousands I then had at my disposal, so few remain with me, that I doubt, as I said, whether it is safe to reckon on such a handful. I await your counsel.”
Nerva, who had been Trajan’s constant companion during the last few weeks, had nothing to add to this speech, and Cinna’s report was but a meagre one.
“So long as we stick at the preparatory stage,” he said, discontentedly, “I am nobody. I have seen and observed many things. With all the precautions I could take, I have found out old connections and, as I will tell you presently, I have found a few persons of distinction, that are won over to our cause, and who may be of the greatest service to us. But with all this I fail to see how you propose to go on. Either one thing or the other.... All now depends on a hazard; it is a game in which everything hangs on a throw of the die.”
“The die is cast,” said Caius Aurelius.
Every face was turned in astonishment to gaze at the excited young man, who went on as follows in great agitation: