Brought up in the druidical faith, which her mother had transmitted to her, as we may say, with her life, Genevieve had not the less confidence in the precepts of Mary's son, though he professed another religion than that of the druids, always prescribed, and venerated in Gaul, besides, Jesus believed, it was said, with the druids, that on leaving this world we should live again in the spirit and in the body; since, according to his religion, he spoke of the resurrection of the dead. Lastly, despite the sublimity of the druidical faith, which relieves man from the fear of death, by teaching him that there is no death, Genevieve could not find in the precepts of the Gallic religion that tender, paternal, and merciful sentiment, with which the words of Jesus were so often impressed. The slave was giving way to these reflections, when she saw the door of the cellar open where she was confined. Gremion, her master, returned, accompanied by two men; one held a bundle of cords, the other a leather scourge. Genevieve had never seen these men; they wore foreign garments.—Seigneur Gremion descended the first steps of the staircase, and said to Genevieve: 'Undress yourself!' The slave looked at her master with as much surprise as fear, scarcely believing what she had heard. He continued: 'Undress yourself, otherwise these men, the assistants of the town executioner, shall tear off your clothes, to flog you as you deserve!'
This cruel punishment, so often suffered by female slaves, Genevieve, thanks to the kindness of the gods and of her mistress, had not yet undergone; thus, in her terror, she could only join her hands, stretch them towards her master, and supplicating, fall upon her knees. But Gremion, standing aside to make way for the two men who had remained on the top step of the staircase, said to them, 'Undress her! flog her well till the blood comes. She shall remember assisting at the predictions of this cursed Nazarene.'
Genevieve was at that time scarcely twenty-three, and her husband, Fergan, had told her sometimes that she was pretty. She was, despite her tears, her prayers, and powerless resistance, stripped of her garments, bound to one of the pillars of the room, and presently her body was wealed with the lashes of the whip. She had at first hoped that shame and horror would deprive her of all consciousness. It was not so; but she forgot the pain of the lashes, on finding herself a prey to the curiosity of her tormentors, and on hearing the infamous jests they exchanged whilst flogging her. Gremion, standing up with his arms crossed, said, laughing diabolically: 'Did the Nazarene, the famous Messiah, who dabbles in prophesying, predict to you what would happen, Genevieve? Think you he was right in proclaiming the slave to be equal with his master? By Jupiter! I now regret I did not have you flogged in the middle of the public place. 'Twould have been a good lesson given on your back to these brigands who believe in the seditious insolences of their chief and friend, Jesus.'
When the two executioners were weary of flogging, one of them unbound Genevieve, and her master said to her:
'You shall not leave this place for a week; during that time my wife shall do without you; she shall wait upon herself, this shall be her punishment.'
And Gremion, retiring with the two men, left Genevieve alone. It was now no longer the tender and merciful words of Jesus that came to the mind of the slave, as they had come to her before her punishment. It was the words of vengeance and of curses which he had also pronounced the same morning against the wicked and the oppressors.
During the long hours she passed alone, with the remembrance of her shame, she made to herself an oath, that if ever the gods willed that she should be a mother, and that she could keep her child with her, she would strive to inspire in him a horror of slavery, and a hatred to the Romans, instead of allowing to degenerate in his young mind these proud resentments, as they had degenerated in her husband, Fergan, whom she loved so, despite the weakness of his character, he who had descended, nevertheless, from the powerful and untameable race of Joel, the brenn of the haughty tribe of Karnak.
Genevieve had been for three days confined in the underground room of the house, where Gremion, her master, had brought her every morning a little food, when one night very late, the door of the slave's prison opened; she saw her mistress, Aurelia, enter, holding a lamp in one hand, and with the other a packet, which she deposited on the steps of the staircase.
'Poor woman! you have greatly suffered on my account,' said Aurelia, whose eyes were moistened with tears, on approaching Genevieve. The latter, despite the kindness of her mistress, could not help saying to her with bitterness:
'If you had a daughter, and men had stripped her of her clothes to beat her with a whip, by order of a master, what would you then say of slavery?'