"We can delay no longer," said Coecus to the elder vestal; "let the criminal be brought forth and placed in the litter."

His orders were obeyed. After a short interval a figure, closely veiled, in coa.r.s.e attire, was conducted out, and unresistingly placed in the litter. Coecus then gave the word to the bearers and attendants to move on. Fausta and three other vestals accompanied the funeral procession, but no weeping relatives and friends--as in most instances would have been the case--followed Coelia. She was alone in the world, without loving kindred. Her male relations were far away with the armies of the emperor, and her mother, sisters, and female connexions, had been removed by death since she, in her extreme youth, had been dedicated by her heathen father to the service of the G.o.ddess.

She was thus considered a fit victim, whose barbarous fate there was no one to revenge. Marcia had spoken of her as her sister, but she was a sister only of the affections. Slowly the mournful procession moved on, and a stranger would have supposed that a corpse was being borne to the funeral pile; but those who watched at a distance knew well--from the direction it was taking, to the Campus Sceleratus--that there was a terrible fate prepared for the occupant of the litter. Such a spectacle had not been for a long time seen in Rome, and did not fail to attract a large number of the population.

Gaius, who was looking about him, remarked amongst the crowd a considerable number of persons whom he knew to be Christians, who walked along with sad and averted looks. Some he recognised as presbyters and deacons, and other officers of the Christian Church. He felt no little surprise at seeing them: he even fancied that he saw the Christian bishop; but as his costume differed but slightly from the rest of the people, he was uncertain that such was the case. Me did not feel altogether satisfied about the matter; but still, as they were unarmed, he believed that, even should they feel inclined to rescue the doomed vestal, they would not make the attempt. "What can it mean?" said he to himself. "I wish that Coecus had left the matter alone; it is my belief that we shall gain nothing by the death of this young creature, and we shall have much greater difficulty hereafter, when we pretend to turn Christians, in persuading these presbyters and others that we are in earnest. However, it is too late now to expostulate with him. Coecus is a man who, having once determined on carrying out an object, is not to be deterred from it." The Campus Sceleratus was at length reached.

It was a gloomy spot, and was called the Campus Sceleratus, because it was here that vestal virgins convicted of breaking their vows had for ages past been entombed alive; for even although doomed to this fearful punishment, they retained the privilege of being interred within the walls. Ruin and desolation reigned around, for only the poorest and most abandoned were willing to erect their abodes in the neighbourhood of a spot deemed accursed. Beyond rose the dark walls erected around the city--a sign of the degeneracy of the inhabitants, whose b.r.e.a.s.t.s and stout arms in former days had been considered sufficient for its protection. Near it was the Porta Collina, from whence started two important roads (the Via Salaria and the Via Nomentana), pa.s.sing close to the enormous baths erected by the Emperor Diocletian. Thus, people from all parts of the city had easy access to the spot. A large crowd soon collected. Even some of the frequenters of the bath sauntered forth, prompted by their curiosity to see what was taking place.

Coecus had kept his intention a secret; how it had become known he could not tell. Although he wished to have some spectators who were likely to approve of his proceedings, he had no desire to have them witnessed by so large and mixed a concourse. Still, he was determined to go through with what he had undertaken.

The litter stopped near the centre of the field, on the summit of a slight elevation.

The earth turned up in heaps showed the entrance to the horrible tomb prepared for the hapless vestal. The sun was now sinking behind the Pincian hill, but still shot forth its rays above the trees which crowned its summit, and lighted up the dark litter and those who stood around. In the hollow below were the fossors, with the public executioner and his attendants, ready to receive the doomed vestal and to lead her into her tomb. Coecus, who had to perform the part which would have been taken by the Pontifex Maximus--a dignity long held by the emperors, as it was still by Constantino--raised his hands to the skies; but his words, if he uttered any, were not heard. He then gave directions to the bearers to place the litter on the ground, and advanced, in order to lead forth his victim. He started back. Without a.s.sistance a figure rose from within, and stepped forth, when, casting off the dark garment which shrouded her, instead of Coelia, the vestal Marcia, in her white robes, with a purple fillet encircling her brow, appeared in all her radiant beauty.

"She whom you cruel men would have destroyed has escaped!" she said.

"Me you cannot accuse of the crime with which you falsely charged her.

My eyes have been opened; from henceforth no longer will I serve your false G.o.ddesses! I declare myself a Christian, and appeal for protection to the emperor. Ah! you dare not stop me," she added, as Coecus, hoping that what she had said had not been heard by those around, stepped forward to grasp her arm. At the same moment several persons were seen approaching, who were at once perceived to be presbyters and other men of influence in the Christian Church. They were attended by several lictors and other officers of the law.

Coecus drew back as Marcia spoke, but his presence of mind did not desert him.

"I see that there is One who protects the Christians more powerful than the G.o.ds of the ancients," he exclaimed. "We were ignorantly endeavouring to perform what we considered our duty; but it is evident that a miracle--of which I have heard the Christians speak--has been wrought. Brother pontiffs, what say you? For my own part I am inclined to embrace the faith which has become that of the fair and beautiful Marcia."

"Anything you please," muttered Gaius in a low voice; "but it seems to me that we have gained but little by this proceeding."

Coecus, however, was, as has been seen, a man of prompt action.

Ordering the fossors to fill in the tomb, he declared that from henceforth no vestal should be buried on that spot. He expressed his belief that he had been greatly deceived by some of the witnesses who had been suborned to swear falsely against the innocent Coelia. He then advanced towards Amulius, and the other presbyters, and expressed his wish to be instructed in their faith. "I will," he added, "in the meantime retain my position as chief of the pontiffs; but it shall be that we may together design the means of advancing further the Christian religion."

Whether or not Amulius and the other presbyters trusted to the expressions of Coecus it was difficult to say, but the larger number of persons among the crowd, many of whom were Christians, believed him; while the idolaters, who had been wont to look up to him as the director of their religious mysteries, were unable to comprehend the meaning of the wonderful change which had taken place. That the chief pontiff of Rome, who had clung to her idolatries, and even defied the emperor after he had expressed himself openly in favour of the new faith, should thus suddenly declare his intention of becoming a Christian, seemed to them a thing altogether incomprehensible.

The first rejoiced under the idea that they had gained a great accession to their strength, since the chief of their opponents had thus openly declared himself willing to become one of their number; while to the crowd of heathens it was a matter of indifference, so long as they should receive their accustomed doles of food, and could enjoy the spectacles with which they had so long been indulged.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

CAPTURED.

When Jovinian found himself in the hands of the Roman soldier, he naturally struggled to get free. He was held fast, however, by the man who had seized him.

"Why, by Mars, I believe he must be the youth we were sent to look for with the slave Eros whom we captured yesterday and took back to his master, the pontiff Gaius," exclaimed the soldier, holding his torch so that the light fell on Jovinian's countenance.

"Whether or not you speak the truth, I am a Roman citizen, guilty of no crime, with perfect right, prompted by whatever cause, to visit these galleries," answered Jovinian, feeling that his best course was to put a bold face upon the matter, and not to exhibit any signs of fear.

"You cannot deny that you are the youth we are in search of--the nephew of the pontiff Gaius," said the soldier. "Although we may have missed the larger game we were sent to hunt down, we have secured you, and shall obtain the reward promised us; so come along."

"What! and give up the search for the others we expected to capture!"

observed another soldier. "The youth was in company with two or more persons. Will you consent to lead us to where your friends are concealed?" he continued, addressing Jovinian; "it will be well for you if you do, for if we take them we will allow you to go free." So debased was the soldier, that it did not occur to him that he was making a proposal which was sure to be refused, "I know not where those you speak of have gone, nor would I lead you to them if I did," answered Jovinian. "I insist, however, on being set at liberty. By what authority do you detain me?"

"By that of the grip I have on your arm," answered the soldier, laughing; "your boldness proves you to be the youth we were sent to look after; so come along, I say, and if you will not show us the way your friends have taken we must try and find it ourselves."

While the man was speaking some of his companions discovered the gallery along which Jovinian had been endeavouring to make his escape. "This way, this way!" cried several of the soldiers; "they must have gone down here, and we shall soon overtake them."

The party, dragging Jovinian with them, entered the gallery; but he observed that most of their torches were nearly burnt out, and he knew that if they continued on long they would be left in total darkness.

This, however, the soldiers did not appear to have thought of. Jovinian was relieved of all anxiety about his friend Severus and the fossor from finding the soldiers proceeding along the gallery by which he had at first attempted to escape until convinced that it was not the path he ought to have followed. What he had expected soon happened: first one torch went out, then another.

"We must beat a retreat, or we shall be losing our way," said the man who held him, calling to his comrades. "No time to lose! Quick!

quick!--our safest plan is to retreat by the road we entered; let all the torches be put out except one, which will suffice to guide us; these galleries have no end, they say, or may conduct, for what I know, to the infernal regions."

Even the plan proposed availed the party but little. They had made their way much farther than they supposed along the galleries.

The first torch was quickly burnt out, a second and third were soon after extinguished; and in a short time, before they had got to any great distance from the entrance to the gallery where Jovinian had been captured, the torch alone of the soldier who held him by the arm was left alight.

"Here, Ba.s.sus," said his captor, addressing a comrade, "hold him fast and bring him along. I will go ahead and lead the way, or we shall be left in darkness."

The speaker hurried forward, and Jovinian felt his arm clasped by his fresh guardian.

Directly afterwards the other man, in his eagerness, stumbled over a block of stone, and dropped his torch into a pool of water, by which it was immediately extinguished. The men groped their way in the direction they had before been going. "On! on!" cried their leader: "we must escape from this as fast as we can."

Other pa.s.sages turned off from the gallery they had been following; and, as a natural consequence, some of the men went into one of them, others into a second, and more into a third, and then, suspecting that they were going wrong, they tried to retrace their steps, and in a short time completely lost themselves.

Jovinian and his guard had not gone far when the latter whispered to him, "If you know the road out of this, and wish to make your escape, you are welcome to do so. It is my belief that we shall be all lost in this labyrinth; the further we go the less hope there will be for you.

I would not involve you in our destruction. I am a Christian, and would gladly accompany you, but I must not desert my comrades." As Ba.s.sus spoke he released his captive's arm.

Jovinian was at first inclined to doubt the man, but this last remark convinced him that Ba.s.sus was a follower of the Lord.

"If you will accompany me I will try and find the way," he said; "and would rather have you with me than be alone."

"No, no; go, and save yourself," said Ba.s.sus. "I am committing a military crime in letting you go; but I feel sure that I shall never be questioned on the subject."

At length Jovinian, finding that he could not persuade Ba.s.sus to accompany him, took his advice. With arms outstretched before him, he hastened along the gallery away from the soldiers. He had carefully noted the distance he had come since leaving the mouth of the pa.s.sage along which Severus and the fossor, he was now satisfied, had proceeded.

He hoped that they would come back and look for him, and if not, that he might be led by Providence to the abode of Gentia.n.u.s. For some time he could hear the soldiers shouting to each other, but their cries grew fainter and fainter. The entrance to the gallery he was seeking for was on the left side, and then he ought, he supposed, to take the first opening on the right, instead, as he had before done, of going straight forward. On he went, but in the darkness his progress was of necessity very slow; still, as he had the path mapped, as it were, clearly in his mind, he proceeded without hesitation. At last he entered the gallery he was seeking for.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE a.s.sa.s.sINS.

The way before Jovinian was now unknown, and he had to walk with the greatest caution. He might meet with some pit, or hole, or flight of steps, or the gallery might turn off abruptly to the right or left. He had heard that persons had been lost in these galleries, and wandered about for days, unable to find their way out, when they had sunk down from hunger and fatigue, and died. These were, however, heathens who had gone in pursuit of the Christian fugitives. The G.o.d of the Christians, he knew, would be watching over him; he, therefore, had no cowardly fears, but went forward in the full confidence that he would be protected.

Even with a torch the undertaking would have been a difficult one. It appeared to him that he had gone on for half an hour or more. Every now and then he shouted out, in the hope that Severus might hear him; but no answer came to his cries, except an occasional echo from the galleries on either hand. He remembered that he and his friends had proceeded a considerable distance before they encountered the soldiers, so that it must of necessity take him a long time to get back. He was surprised that Severus and the fossor had not come to look for him, feeling confident that he was following the gallery they had taken. How much longer he wandered on he could scarcely tell. At times he felt almost inclined to sit down in despair; but then he said to himself, "He who watches over Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps; I will trust to Him,"

and with renewed courage he went on. Although he might not discover the abode of Gentia.n.u.s, or find his way out of the catacomb, he was sure to encounter some of the persons who might come to visit the tombs of the martyrs, or to pray at the graves of their relatives, and they would certainly render him all the a.s.sistance in their power.

It also occurred to him that other parties might have been sent in search of Gentia.n.u.s and Severus, and it would be dangerous to fall into their hands.

He might conceal himself, however, should he discover any suspicious-looking persons approaching. He was too anxious to experience any sensation of hunger; but he at length began to feel very weary. He fancied, indeed, that he must already have been groping his way for several hours. If so, he could hardly have proceeded in a straight line, and might, for aught he could tell, be actually turning back in the direction from which he had come. "Had I myself only to depend on, such might be the case!--but the G.o.d of love and mercy will lead me; I will trust Him," he exclaimed.

Becoming accustomed to the darkness, he found that he could move much faster than at first, and, with his hands stretched out, the instant his fingers came in contact with the rock, he was able easily to avoid it.