“Ho! Chrysostomus!” he cried, turning his horse towards the strand. “How are things going on?”
“Well, my lord. We have been waiting here ever since it grew dark. Your friends have all arrived. Half an hour since the old man came, the one with white hair—Cocceius Nerva—he was the last.”
Herodianus and Magus went forward, and Aurelius followed. The Roman’s horse and the one Magus had ridden were left behind; Aurelius’s Andalusian they took with them. The boat pushed off, cut across the dark waters of the harbor and carried the party safe on board.
CHAPTER VII.
On the following morning the frightful news spread like wild-fire through the city that several citizens, some of them men of high position, had been seized at dead of night by the city-prefect and carried off to the state-prisons; while others—and among them the Senators Cornelius Cinna and Marcus Cocceius Nerva—had only escaped sharing their fate by flight.
After Cinna’s rash demonstration, in opposition to the law against the Christians, such proceedings were not considered very astonishing. Nerva, too, had long seemed ripe for destruction, from the point of view of the state-craft of the time. But that a host of individuals who, till now, had been regarded as blamelessly innocent, nay, that such a man as Furius should be apprehended, produced a painful impression on the public mind. Every one, who did not feel himself protected by his modest station and personal insignificance, began to quake, and even the humble population of the Subura seemed to be dragged into sympathy with the anxiety of the higher classes. The cries of the wandering dealers and street pedlars were subdued, and though the cook-shops and barbers’ rooms were crowded, the talk was in low mysterious tones. On every hand suspicious and anxious looks prevailed.
What most agitated and puzzled the citizens of Rome, was the fact, that the confessed enemies of Caesar had been able to escape; this revealed a regular and well-organized plot; nay, from the high rank and wide influence of the fugitives, it was almost an open declaration of war. It was self-evident, that Nerva and Cinna would not have retired so promptly into exile, but that they were about to strain every nerve in order to return victorious. Much was said about the connections they both could count upon in the provinces, and particularly in the Gallia Lugdunensis. These allies, judiciously treated, might, in the present state of public feeling as to Domitian’s tyranny, combine for some crushing catastrophe. If no more than two or three legions should raise the standard of revolt, under the guidance of a commander bent on death or success, the Emperor’s rule would be in serious danger, to say the least. Men recalled the days of Nero—how rapidly the flame of revolution had spread in every direction, when the mass of combustibles had been piled sky-high, through many years of misgovernment. The praetorian guard could only be trusted conditionally. Their loyalty was simply a matter of price. As long as they were splendidly paid they would be for Caesar, and this sort of fidelity could easily be corrupted in a single night.
On the other hand the noiselessness, with which the arrests had been managed, and the calm unforced regularity, which prevailed in every department of public life, seemed to guarantee the unwavering stability of the government. The palace was to-day guarded by a single cohort, as usual. The morning audience had been duly crowded. The Senate met at the usual hour, and Domitian joined them, carried to the sitting in his litter, and escorted by only a small portion of the praetorian guard. Races were announced for the following day in the Circus Maximus, and at the same time the Acta Diurna,[64] the official sheet of Rome, formally proclaimed Caesar’s intention of edifying and delighting his beloved Romans, by the celebration of magnificent centennial games, never yet equalled for splendor and variety. In short, within the precincts of the Palatium such security and indifference prevailed as could not fail, if thoroughly carried out, to exert great influence on public feeling. Added to this, a vague report got about that the birds had flown in consequence of a warning, to which the government had been accessory, since Caesar had been willing to avoid the painful necessity of arraigning such men as Cinna, Nerva, and Trajan before the Senate. Thus it was not to Caesar’s dilatoriness or clumsiness that they owed their escape, but to his magnanimity.
Though no such magnanimity had ever before been seen at the palace, this view was warmly encouraged.