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_ BUT Chilo did not appear for some time, and Vinicius knew not at
last what to think of his absence. In vain he repeated to himself
that searching, if continued to a certain and successful issue, must
be gradual. His blood and impulsive nature rebelled against the
voice of judgment. To do nothing, to wait, to sit with folded arms,
was so repulsive to him that he could not be reconciled to it in any
way. To search the alleys of the city in the dark garb of a slave,
through this alone, that it was useless, seemed to him merely a
mask for his own inefficiency, and could give no satisfaction. His
freedmen, persons of experience, whom he commanded to search
independently, turned out a hundred times less expert than Chio.
Meanwhile there rose in him, besides his love for Lygla, the
stubbornness of a player resolved to win. Vinicius had been always
a person of this kind. From earliest youth he had accomplished
what he desired with the passionateness of one who does not
understand failure, or the need of yielding something. For a time
military discipline had put his self-will within bounds, but also it
had engrafted into him the conviction that every command of his
to subordinates must be fulfilled; his prolonged stay in the Orient,
among people pliant and inured to slavish obedience, confirmed in
him the faith that for his "I wish" there were no limits. At present
his vanity, too, was wounded painfully. There was, besides, in
Lygia's opposition and resistance, and in her flight itself, which
was to him incomprehensible, a kind of riddle. In trying to solve
this riddle he racked his head terribly. He felt that Acte had told
the truth, and that Lygia was not indifferent. But if this were true,
why had she preferred wandering and misery to his love, his
tenderness, and a residence in his splendid mansion? To this
question he found no answer, and arrived only at a kind of dim
understanding that between him and Lygia, between their ideas,
between the world which belonged to him and Petronius, and the
world of Lygia and Pomponia, there existed some sort of
difference, some kind of misunderstanding as deep as an abyss,
which nothing could fill up or make even. It seemed to him, then,
that he must lose Lygia; and at this thought he lost the remnant of
balance which Petronius wished to preserve in him. There were
moments in which he did not know whether he loved Lygia or
hated her; he understood only that he must find her, and he would
rather that the earth swallowed her than that he should not see and
possess her. By the power of imagination he saw her as clearly at
times as if she had been before his face. He recalled every word
which he had spoken to her; every word which he had heard from
her. He felt her near; felt her on his bosom, in his arms; and then
desire embraced him like a flame. He loved her and called to her.
And when he thought that he was loved, that she might do with
willingness all that he wished of her, sore and endless sorrow
seized him, and a kind of deep tenderness flooded his heart, like a
mighty wave. But there were moments, too, in which he grew pale
from rage, and delighted in thoughts of the humiliation and
tortures which he would inflict on Lygia when he found her. He
wanted not only to have her, but to have her as a trampled slave.
At the same time he felt that if the choice were left him, to be her
slave or not to see her in life again, he would rather be her slave.
There were days in which he thought of the marks which the lash
would leave on her rosy body, and at the same time he wanted to
kiss those marks. It came to his head also that he would be happy
if he could kill her.
In this torture, torment, uncertainty, and suffering, he lost health,
and even beauty. He became a cruel and incomprehensible master.
His slaves, and even his freedmen, approached him with
trembling; and when punishments fell on them causelessly, --
punishments as merciless as undeserved, -- they began to hate him
in secret; while he, feeling this, and feeling his own isolation, took
revenge all the more on them. He restrained himself with Chilo
alone, fearing lest he might cease his searches; the Greek, noting
this, began to gain control of him, and grew more and more
exacting. At first he assured Vinicius at each visit that the affair
would proceed easily and quickly; now he began to discover
difficulties, and without ceasing, it is true, to guarantee the
undoubted success of the searches, he did not hide the fact that
they must continue yet for a good while.
At last he came, after long days of waiting, with a face so gloomy
that the young man grew pale at sight of him, and springing up had
barely strength to ask,-- "Is she not among the Christians?" "She is,
lord," answered Chilo; "but I found Glaucus among them." "Of
what art thou speaking, and who is Glaucus?" "Thou hast
forgotten, lord, it seems, that old man with whom I journeyed from
Naples to Rome, and in whose defence I lost these two fingers, --
a loss which prevents me from writing. Robbers, who bore away
his wife and child, stabbed him with a knife. I left him dying at an
inn in Minturna, and bewailed him long. Alas! I have convinced
myself that he is alive yet, and belongs in Rome to the Christian
community."
Vinicius, who could not understand what the question was,
understood only that Glaucus was becoming a hindrance to the
discovery of Lygia; hence he suppressed his rising anger, and said,
-- "If thou didst defend him, he should be thankful and help thee."
"Ah! worthy tribune, even gods are not always grateful, and what
must the case be with men? True, he should be thankful. But,
unhappily, he is an old man, of a mind weak and darkened by age
and disappointment; for which reason, not only is he not grateful,
but, as I learned from his co-religionists, he accuses me of having
conspired with the robbers, and says that I am the cause of his
misfortunes. That is the recompense for my fingers!"
"Scoundrel! I am certain that it was as he says," replied Vinicius.
"Then thou knowest more than he does, lord, for he only surmises
that it was so; which, however, would not prevent him from
summoning the Christians, and from revenging himself on me
cruelly. He would have done that undoubtedly, and others, with
equal certainty, would have helped him; but fortunately he does
not know my name, and in the house of prayer where we met, he
did not notice me. I, however, knew him at once, and at the first
moment wished to throw myself on his neck. Wisdom, however,
and the habit of thinking before every step which I intend to take,
restrained me. Therefore, on issuing from the house of prayer, I
inquired concerning him, and those who knew him declared that
he was the man who had been betrayed by his comrade on the
journey from Naples. Otherwise I should not have known that he
gives out such a story."
"How does this concern me? Tell what thou sawest in the house of
prayer."
"It does not concern thee, lord, but it concerns me just as much as
my life. Since I wish that my wisdom should survive me, I would
rather renounce the reward which thou hast offered, than expose
my life for empty lucre; without which, I as a true philosopher
shall be able to live and seek divine wisdom."
But Vinicius approached him with an ominous countenance, and
began in a suppressed voice, -- "Who told thee that death would
meet thee sooner at the hands of Glaucus than at mine? Whence
knowest thou, dog, that I will not have thee buried right away in
my garden?"
Chio, who was a coward, looked at Vinicius, and in the twinkle of
an eye understood that one more unguarded word and he was lost
beyond redemption.
"I will search for her, lord, and I will find her!" cried he, hurriedly.
Silence followed, during which were heard the quick breathing of
Vinicius, and the distant song of slaves at work in the garden.
Only after a while did the Greek resume his speech, when he
noticed that the young patrician was somewhat pacified.
"Death passed me, but I looked on it with the calmness of
Socrates. No, lord, I have not said that I refuse to search for the
maiden; I desired merely to tell thee that search for her is
connected now with great peril to me. On a time thou didst doubt
that there was a certain Euricius in the world, and though thou
wert convinced by thine own eyes that the son of my father told the
truth to thee, thou hast suspicions now that I have invented
Glaucus. Ah! would that he were only a fiction, that I might go
among the Christians with perfect safety, as I went some time
since; I would give up for that the poor old slave woman whom I
bought, three days since, to care for my advanced age and maimed
condition. But Glaucus is living, lord; and if he had seen me once,
thou wouldst not have seen me again, and in that case who would
find the maiden?"
Here he was silent again, and began to dry his tears.
"But while Glaucus lives," continued he, "how can I search for
her? -- for I may meet him at any step; and if I meet him I shall
perish, and with me will cease all my searching."
"What art thou aiming at? What help is there? What dost thou wish
to undertake?" inquired Vinicius.
"Aristotle teaches us, lord, that less things should be sacrificed for
greater, and King Priam said frequently that old age was a grievous
burden. Indeed, the burden of old age and misfortune weighs upon
Glaucus this long time, and so heavily that death would be to him
a benefit. For what is death, according to Seneca, but liberation?"
"Play the fool with Petronius, not with me! Tell what thy desire is."
"If virtue is folly, may the gods permit me to be a fool all my life. I
desire, lord, to set aside Glaucus, for while he is living my life and
searches are in continual peril."
"Hire men to beat him to death with clubs; I will pay them."
"They will rob thee, lord, and afterward make profit of the secret.
There are as many ruffians in Rome as grains of sand in the arena,
but thou wilt not believe how dear they are when an honest man
needs to employ their villainy. No, worthy tribune! But if
watchmen catch the murderers in the act? They would tell, beyond
doubt, who hired them, and then thou wouldst have trouble. They
will not point to me, for I shall not give my name. Thou art doing
ill not to trust in me, for, setting aside my keenness, remember that
there is a question of two other things, -- of my life, and the reward
which thou has promised me."
"How much dost thou need?"
"A thousand sestertia, for turn attention to this, that I must find
honest ruffians, men who when they have received earnest money,
will not take it off without a trace. For good work there must be
good pay! Something might be added, too, for my sake, to wipe
away the tears which I shall shed out of pity for Glaucus. I take the
gods to witness how I love him. If I receive a thousand scstcrtia
to-day, two days hence his soul will be in Hades; and then, if souls
preserve memory and the gift of thought, he will know for the first
time how I loved him. I will find people this very day, and tell
them that for each day of the life of Glaucus I will withhold one
hundred sestertia. I have, besides, a certain idea, which seems to
me infallible."
Vinicius promised him once more the desired sum, forbidding him
to mention Glaucus again; but asked what other news he brought,
where he had been all the time, what he had seen, and what he had
discovered. But Chilo was not able to tell much. He had been in
two more houses of prayer,-- had observed each person carefully,
especially the women, -- but had seen no one who resembled
Lygia: the Christians, however, looked on him as one of their own
sect, and, since he redeemed the son of Euricius, they honored him
as a man following in the steps of "Christ." He had learned from
them, also, that a great lawgiver of theirs, a certain Paul of Tarsus,
was in Rome, imprisoned because of charges preferred by the
Jews, and with this man he had resolved to become acquainted.
But most of all was he pleased by this, -- that the supreme priest of
the whole sect, who had been Christ's disciple, and to whom Christ
had confided government over the whole world of Christians,
might arrive in Rome any moment. All the Christians desired
evidently to see him, and hear his teachings. Some great meetings
would follow, at which he, Chio, would be present; and what is
more, since it is easy to hide in the crowd, he would take Vinicius
to those meetings. Then they would find Lygia certainly. If
Glaucus were once set aside, it would not be connected even with
great danger. As to revenge, the Christians, too, would revenge but
in general they were peaceful people.
Here Chilo began to relate, with a certain surprise, that he had
never seen that they gave themselves up to debauchery, that they
poisoned wells or fountains, that they were enemies of the human
race, worshipped an ass, or ate the flesh of children. No; he had
seen nothing of that sort. Certainly he would find among them
even people who would hide away Glaucus for money; but their
religion, as far as he knew, did not incite to crime, -- on the
contrary, it enloined forgiveness of offences.
Vinicius remembered what Pomponia had said to him at Acte's,
and in general he listened to Chio's words with pleasure. Though
his feeling for Lygia assumed at times the seeming of hatred, he
felt a relief when he heard that the religion which she and
Pomponia confessed was neither criminal nor repulsive. But a
species of undefined feeling rose in him that it was just that
reverence for Christ, unknown and mysterious, which created the
difference between himself and Lygia; hence he began at once to
fear that religion and to hate it. _
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