The youths were silent, till Britannicus, who felt in his heart the confidence of an exceeding peace, said—
‘My father, I know not. All that you have said to us is beautiful as a song of heaven. It stirs my heart; it seems to give wings to my spirit; but I know too little, and all is yet too strange.’
‘My son,’ said the Apostle, ‘go in peace. It is given me to know who thou art; thy slave’s attire does not conceal thee from me. Nay, start not; none else shall know. But the seed hath been sown in thy young heart; it shall blossom and bear fruit in a life beyond. For there is a baptism, not of water only, but of blood. Would to God that thou mightest remain for the furtherance of the kingdom of His Son; but it may not be. And my message to thee is, “Be strong, and He shall comfort thine heart, and put thou thy trust in the Lord.”’
He laid his right hand gently on the young prince’s head and blessed him, and his whole soul seemed to thrill under that holy touch.
‘And hast thou no word for me, my father?’ said Flavius Clemens.
The Apostle turned towards him, and kindly laying his left hand on the boy’s dark curls, he said—
‘I say to thee, as the Lord said to another, “And thou too, my son, when thou wast young, thou girdedst thyself and wentest whither thou wouldest; but when thou shalt be old another shall gird thee and carry thee whither thou wouldest not.” Thy life shall be prolonged, and thou shalt rise to great things; but thy heart shall be the Lord’s, and many a year hence thou too shalt be His witness. One of you shall see my face no more, but the Angel of His Presence bless you both.’
He spoke, and passed out of their sight into the gloom, leaving in their hearts a sound as of angelic music, a light as of purple wings. Neither of them spoke, or could speak. In silence and haste they made their way back over the dark flowing river to the house of Aulus Plautius. Flavius was conducted home by faithful Christian slaves, while the escort of the Empress accompanied her and her brother to the Palace, which still rang with sounds of revelry. And that night Titus wondered at the radiant serenity of the countenance of his friend, and Britannicus slept as sweetly as a child; and as he slumbered the spirits of the blessed dead seemed to keep guard over him, and he smiled to hear strange snatches of immortal melody.
CHAPTER XXV
LOCUSTA.
‘Circe inter vernas nota Neronis.’—Turnus, Fr.