CHAPTER IX.
I passed without disturbance through the gardens of the Esquiline, and the streets of the city, in which no one was as yet moving, except a few rustics driving asses laden with herbs to the market-place. When I reached the house of my kinsman, however, it was evident that sleep did not prevail within its gates; lights were visible in the vestibule, and there I found several of the slaves sitting in conversation. My own could not conceal the extravagance of his satisfaction on seeing me enter among them in safety; so that I had no doubt his brother had informed him, in so far at least, of what had passed after our leaving him in the Mammertine. Dromo received me also with warm demonstrations of joy, and conducted me to the chamber of Licinius, in which, with the orator himself, were Sextus, pale with watching, Sabinus, still habited in military attire, with a goblet of wine before him on the table, and Lucius Sempronius, who was reclining at some little distance from the rest. It was he that eagerly began to question me; and I perceived from the style in which he spoke, that all present had already been made aware of the manner in which Athanasia had been withdrawn from the council-chamber. A few words informed them [pg 352]of what had followed after we quitted the Temple of Apollo.
“I thank the gods,” said Sempronius,—“so far at least it goes well—but if this strictness, of which the Centurion speaks, shall be adhered to, there still must be no small difficulty about conveying her beyond the city.”
“In truth,” quoth Sabinus, after a little pause, “I am afraid this is scarcely a matter in regard to which I should be consulted. I know not but already I have done several things that could not be quite reconciled with my duty. I shall, in all probability, be set on the watch myself, and if so—much as I must regret the necessity—it certainly will be most necessary for me to discharge what is committed to my trust. Is there no possibility, think you, of inventing some impenetrable disguise? Depend on it, it is quite impossible the young lady should remain any where in Rome, without being ere long discovered. The first thing is to have her safe beyond the city-walls.”
“I myself,” said I, “shall embark instantly for Britain. Sempronius, Athanasia must go with me—Surely it may be possible to have her carried unobserved to the shore.”
“You!” said Licinius—“you embark instantly for Britain?—You know not what you speak; your law-suit has been determined this very afternoon. Every thing that Cneius left is your own.”
“O Jove!” cried Sabinus, “did ever mortal receive such news with such a face! But come, here is health to the heir of the Valerii, and may this Massic choke me, if I love him not the better for his gravity.”
“Would to heaven!” said Sempronius, “our young friend had loved under other auspices! No, Valerius must stay and take possession, destined, as I hope he is, to equal, under the favour of the gods, the noblest name in his lineage. My dear niece—let us trust she may be concealed somewhere in safety from the pursuit. Separated from this fanatic crew, she will, ere long, without question, abandon the dreams they have filled her mind withal; and on some happier day, our friend may perhaps have no reason either to fear or to blush, for lifting her over the threshold of the Valerii.”
I drew near to the old man, and, receiving his embrace, whispered into his ear, “Sempronius, you speak generously; but know that this very evening I also have become a Christian.”