“Nay, I will tell you all, only not now, not at this minute. You shall very soon hear from me, Claudia; but as to whether I shall ever return—that lies in the counsels of the Immortals. If you regret your promise, Claudia, if the remote and unknown future terrifies you, say so in time; you shall not be bound. But, if you love me with all your soul, Fate cannot divide us. You will find out the path by which we may meet again, and you will not be mistaken in the man you have chosen, happen what may.”
“Caius, you are breaking my heart! I do not understand it—but you will not allow me to ask.—Well, so be it then, I submit. Come what may, Caius, I am your wife, and when you bid me I will follow you. Oh ye gods! how cruel, how hard—in the midst of so much sunshine.—I cannot bear it!”
“Forgive me, forgive me,” said Aurelius, himself hardly able to check his tears. “It is a shame to spoil your happiness, but I cannot help it.—Farewell, my Claudia. Love me, remember me, and trust to your protecting star!”
“Farewell,” sobbed the girl. “And you will tell me all, everything, will you not?”
“All I can and may,” said Aurelius. “Perhaps,” he added tremulously, “I may be able to tell you that all is well, here, in Rome, in your father’s house. But, if what I am planning and hoping, must fail—-well, even then, I know that one thing will remain dearer and more precious than success—you, my Claudia.”
He clasped her in his arms; then he tore himself away, and hurried off to the little door.
“A thousand thanks, good soul!” he whispered to Lucilia as he passed. The bolt was cautiously pushed back into the rings, and Caius Aurelius flew home, leaning on the arm of Herodianus. It was almost midnight by the time he reached home; the door-keeper was asleep, nor did he wake till they had knocked repeatedly.
“You may go now, Antisthenes,” said Herodianus. “I will shut up the house; you are released for to-night.” The ostiarius went off to his little room.
Herodianus not only bolted the door, but barred it too,[58] with the strong iron stanchion which stood unused in the comer, slipping it into the staples on each side of the door; and it was not till he had made all fast that he followed his master, who had lighted the lamps in one of the large rooms adjoining the peristyle, and opened a brass-plated cupboard in the wall. While Aurelius and Herodianus were busy packing up all their valuables, and particularly large quantities of gold coin, Magus, in the garden behind the house and adjoining the pillared court, was saddling three capital horses.
He had just finished tightening the girths of the second, a fine Cappadocian, when three thundering knocks at the front entrance echoed through the house.