The evening was now advanced, and Herbert closed the volume. “How was it possible,” said Susan, “that Valeria, for it was she, I suppose, who bore the name of Sister Helena, could have eluded the search of the vindicative Emperor? With his exasperated feelings, he would leave no means untried to discover her, and these being joined with his great power, I cannot imagine how she could have been saved.” “Though the early Christians,” said Herbert, “when called to give a reason for the hope that was in them, were bold in conscious innocence, though they shrank not from danger or death in the service of their Master, still, they did not, needlessly, cast away their lives; but, even with the prudence of worldly wisdom, avoided exposure. Their residence was often in the most obscure places, in the depths of gloomy forests, or in caves of the earth, from whence, in the still hours of night, the sounds of praise and thanksgiving arose to Him to whom ‘the darkness is as at noonday.’ Many of these subterranean abodes are still shown, and the inscriptions upon the rugged walls prove them to have been the homes of the persecuted Christians.” “I should like to go to Rome,” said Charles, “and go into those caves, and see the ruins of that great city.” “And those ancient pavements,” said Mary, “which have been swept by the imperial purple, and visit the tombs, where rest the remains of those great and good, of whom we read.” “Now Mary is upon her hobby,” said Susan, “and she will not stop short of the Holy Land at least. If she were only an old man, with a big wig, she would be a most inveterate antiquary.” “I will sympathize with you, dear Mary,” said Elizabeth, “if to read of former ages, and their stirring events, excites so much interest, how delightful to stand upon the spots commemorated in history, but, above all, to tread in the footsteps of the Saviour, and visit the scenes hallowed by his presence.” “To stand upon the Mount of the Olive trees,” said Herbert, “to wander by the brook Cedron, and through the ancient burial places of the Jews. To linger by the shores of the sea of Galilee, and mark the swelling waters, to fix in our ‘mind’s eye’ the very place where Jesus walked upon the boisterous waves. Come evening, remind me, Mary, and I will read some lines which may interest you, as being an admirer of poetry as well as of these remembrances of bygone days.”
Chapter VI
The mild blue sky, the silvery moon, sailing in its unclouded brightness,
And the soft breeze of night, wafted upon the gentle summer air,
All breathe of peace and loveliness; man’s base passions alone mar the scene.
Although Mrs. Wilson lived in comparative retirement, yet her house was the abode of hospitality. Many valuable friends of her younger years, and of her husband, still kept up that friendly intercourse which had always been a source of pleasure and improvement; and among them were many, not only the most pious, but the most enlightened and amiable characters of the day. In their society the young people became accustomed to that true politeness, that delicate wit and refined conversation which is the sure index of good breeding and high intellect. While surrounded by visitors of this class they could not so much regret the loss of their evening entertainments, and, when left with only their own domestic circle, they returned to them with renewed enjoyment. Some evenings had elapsed during one of those pleasant seasons of visiting, and the continuation of the Tale, which had so interested them, had been necessarily delayed, but at length the time arrived when they were again alone and at liberty to pursue their course of reading.
“The moonbeams shone in rich splendor upon the massy walls and towers of the imperial palace and illumed the glittering arms of the guard who surrounded it. Preparations for a feast were going on and strains of soft music were heard within. Its magnificent apartments were blazing with light and sparkling with gold and silver ornaments and the fragrance of the scented draperies diffused itself through their vast extent. In an inner chamber, more gorgeously decorated, and hung with cloth of gold, the bordering of which was heavy with jewels, reclined upon a luxurious couch the infamous Nero, the lord of all this splendor, but despised and contemned by even the meanest of his subjects. His purple robe hung in rich folds over the silver drapery of his couch, his long, perfumed hair was parted over his white forehead, displaying an effeminate countenance which, to a casual observer, would show none of those traits of revengeful malice or diabolical cruelty which were the characteristics of the despotic Emperor. His jeweled fingers pressed lightly the strings of a lute and the careless indolence of his attitude expressed total indifference to everything excepting his own ease. A few attendants stood at the door and his favorite freedman waited near the couch to receive the first indications of his pleasure. “Anicetus,” said he, at length, raising his heavy eyes, in the expression of which alone might be seen the evil passions of his nature, “did you instruct my guards to admit the woman whom we encountered at the bath?” “I did, mighty Emperor,” was the answer. “Repeat to me the words of her address.” “My lord, to the best of my recollection, these were her very words: ‘The star of thy nativity wanes; wouldst thou know more? admit me ere thy revel begins.’” The complexion of Nero grew paler as he said in a low tone: “Dost thou believe in the prophetic gifts of these Sybils?” “The star of Nero will always be in the ascendant,” said the freedman. “Is not his word the law of Rome? and not of Rome only, but of the whole world?” and he bowed to the ground in cringing servility. “Nevertheless, I would hear what this woman would reveal; see that she is admitted at the time. Some wine, Anicetus. What insufferable insolence in Servius Galba to interfere in the execution of my will! His haughty ambition requires pruning. Reprieve! pardon the arrogant Christian, who has dared to brave my power! No! by Jupiter, the extremest tortures shall punish his audacity; we will see if his demeanor will retain its insulting composure. Are all my orders executed? Is everything in readiness?” “Everything, my noble lord; all has been prepared according to your directions, and your decree to that effect has been given to the impudent Christian, who will have the night to contemplate the certainty of his deserved fate.” “It is ’well,” said Nero, and a malignant smile passed across his features and, while carelessly tuning his instrument, his thoughts were apparently rioting in the prospect of the gratification of his revenge. At this moment the woman, who, by his order was suffered to enter, appeared at the door of the apartment. As the freedman met her with an impatient gesture, she waved him aside and, with a firm step and commanding air, advanced to the couch, from which Nero had started. The same dark and piercing eyes were fixed upon him which had terrified Cleone and the same deep and hollow voice sounded in his ear. “The decree of Fate is even now passing; the fiat of justice is being issued; thou, who hast arrogated to thyself the powers of life and death at the dictates of thine own base passions, tremble before a Power in whose sight thou art but as a grain of dust, more degraded than the meanest worm of the ground thou hast polluted. The Sun of the universe will arise, but not for thee; the breeze of the mountains will refresh all nature, but its healthful influence will impart no life to thine inanimate form; Emperor of Rome! the sands of your life are few and fast ebbing!” Nero had stood motionless and as she stayed her denunciations he sank again upon his couch, but a moment elapsed, when rage and anger glowed in his countenance, before pale as marble. “Wretch!” said he, “thy fate is sealed, tortures and death await thee.” Unshrinkingly she stood before the tyrant, unawed she witnessed his deadly rage. “Yet retrace thy steps,” she said, “man of many crimes, while yet in thy power repair those evils which have not passed beyond thy influence. From the deep abyss of thy guilt and infamy look up; for, far through the fearful gloom the rays of the sweet star of mercy may reach even thee. For me, I am beyond your power; you can neither save nor destroy me. Nero, to purchase the slender chance for mercy which is yet yours I would barter life and yield it amidst all the torments the art of man could inflict. But my time has elapsed; we meet no more on earth.” So saying, before the dismayed Emperor could collect his scattered thoughts, she passed from the apartment and from the astonished gaze of the attendants who, though distant spectators of the scene, had not heard what had passed. “Draw near, Anicetus,” said Nero, as his freedman approached. “Where did Galba direct his steps when he left our presence? I liked not his haughty bearing.” “To the Senate chamber, my lord.” “Ha! are the Senate together tonight? for what purpose?” “I know not, most mighty Emperor; the doors of the chamber are closed.” “The slaves! do they dare?” He strode the apartment with hasty steps, his cheeks blanched with passion. “Discover,” said he, “the cause of this secret sitting; by my head, they shall dearly rue this audacity. Bring me the report without delay.” The freedman bent his body in obedience and withdrew. Left alone, the restless motions and perturbed demeanor of the Emperor expressed the agitation of his mind. At times he would gnash his teeth in anger, then strong lines of terror and dismay would cross his features. At length, throwing himself upon the couch, he covered his face with his hands and appeared lost in thought. The lowliest goatherd among the Appenines, who, lying down at night with but the hard ground for a pillow and a canopy of boughs for a shelter, knows not where to find his daily food, was happier than this lord of Italy. Of what avail was all this pomp to him, whose splendid robes covered a heart beating with terror and alarm? The abode of suspicion and fear, torn with the pangs of dark remorse, but still raging with the most horrid passions, to gratify which the country which he was bound to serve and protect was made to bleed at every pore? The meanest serf, the most degraded slave throughout this vast empire would have refused to exchange situations with this lordly tyrant could they have realized the horrors of his guilty conscience. At one moment he would devise means to crush the Senate at a single blow; then the words of the Sybil, recurring to his mind, the idea of conciliation would be uppermost, and, though his whole frame trembled with impotent rage, yet he would determine to practise his powers of dissimulation and defer the gratification of his revenge to a more fitting opportunity. The superstitious terrors of his intellect were all aroused, his cowardly heart quailed at the shadow of coming events which he knew would overwhelm him, and his revengeful passions were all in wild commotion.
A slave, bending before him, announced Lucius Flavius, and, collecting his thought, and endeavoring to smooth his brow to composure, he ordered that the patrician should be admitted.