"Put them out! Will they dare resist the coming emperor? Have Macro aid thee, so he dare not tell upon thee."

She was becoming cool. It would be good to vent her murderous impulses on something. Caligula gazed at her with fascination in his face.

"Come, then, thou, and see it done! Neither shalt thou talk," he said suddenly.

She stepped to his side, but before she reached the exit of the inclosure, she stopped and looked squarely into his eyes.

"Herod hath a slave who hath wronged me," she said.

"Which one?" he demanded.

"The Essene!"

"Nay, take vengeance on some other, then, for He is my friend! I have vowed him favor!"

"Why?" she demanded.

"Nay; do not stop--thou art to see this thing done! Why do I promise the Essene favor? Because, forsooth, he made an emperor of me! Come!"

CHAPTER XXIX

IN EXTREMIS

Marsyas left the promontory at once. He had hired one of the public pa.s.senger boats to cross from Baiae to Misenum and the boatman had waited for the return of his fare.

Many went as he was going, but they were patricians singly and in groups that pa.s.sed him, with sober faces and without a word to each other. He recognized senators, aediles, consuls, duumvirs, praetors, legates all hurrying toward the landing. All n.o.ble Misenum seemed suddenly to have determined on an exodus. An anxious and distressed company they were, and had Marsyas' own brain been less hot with anger, he might have meditated on the meaning of it all.

By the time he reached the bay, the sunset-reddened water was covered with light-running coasters, by the signs on apl.u.s.tre or vexillum, a fleet of patrician craft making across the bay to Neapolis, or scudding for the open sea and Ostia. He saw one or two vessels approaching Misenum, hailed by departing ones, and, after a colloquy, turned back.

Vaguely wondering whether Caesar's latest whim was to drive his court from him, Marsyas got into his own highly-painted sh.e.l.l and told his oarsman to take him across to Baiae.

As he sat at the tiller and moodily watched the Italian night come up over the sea, the capes, the hill-slopes and finally cover the somber head of the unsuspected Vesuvius, he was afraid that his long ignored Essenic rigor would a.s.sert itself. He was ashamed of himself, and for the moment looked upon the life he had led in Rome with revulsion. But he put off his self-examination with a kind of terror. There was yet much that was harsh and unlawful to be done, and he dared not hold off his hand. Lydia's life and good name, the avenging of Stephen, Agrippa's life and Cypros' happiness were weighed against Cla.s.sicus and his own soul in the other balance. He could not hesitate now.

When he set foot in opulent Baiae the night had fallen and with his return to the city, which he knew sheltered Agrippa's most active enemy at that hour, all his energies turned toward the purpose that had originally brought him to Misenum. He believed that if Cla.s.sicus had insinuated himself into young Tiberius' favor, doubtless the prince's hospitality had been extended to him. He turned his steps toward the range of villas built between Baiae and Puteoli, overlooking the bay.

He had in mind the method of his last resort, and he went as one goes when desperation carries him forward--swiftly and relentlessly.

But, crossing the town by the water-front, he met a handful of slaves bearing baggage toward the wharves. With his old Essenic thoroughness he halted to examine them to make sure that Cla.s.sicus had not outstripped him finally. By their particularly fine physique and diverse nationality Marsyas knew them to be costly slaves of the familia of no small patrician.

He heard the ramble of chariot-wheels on the lava-paved streets; the master was following. As the vehicle pa.s.sed under a lamp a few paces away, Marsyas distinguished the occupants as Cla.s.sicus and the young Tiberius.

He felt a chill creep over his heart; the hour had come.

He moved after the slaves toward the wharf.

Baiae's beauties extended out and waded into the waves. The landings of marble had to be fit masonry for the feet of the Caesars and their train when they asked the hospitality of the sea. Luxury, not commerce, came down to the water's edge and gazed Narcissus-like at its lovely image in the quiet bay. Here were no Algerian hulks with their lateen sails, no evil-smelling fishing fleets, or docks or warehouses, or city cloacas. Baiae was a city of dreams and warm baths, of idleness and temples and villas, of gardens and fragrance and beauty and repose.

Now, the velvet winds of the starry Italian night rippled the face of the bay; the last faint l.u.s.ter of a set moon showed a bar of white light, low down in the southwest, and against that, blackly outlined, a splendid galley was driving like the wind into port.

A dozen yards from the end of the pier lay a pa.s.sage-boat, with a light on its mast and a soft glow in its curtained cabin, Marsyas wondered if Tiberius meant to accompany his guest to Misenum.

But while he thought, Tiberius set Cla.s.sicus down, took leave with an apology and a reminder that guests awaited him at home, and drove rapidly back into Baiae.

A small rowboat lay under shadow at the side of the landing and the two couriers loading the baggage awaited now their pa.s.senger.

But Marsyas emerged from the dark and stepped before Cla.s.sicus. A glance at the tidy countenance of the philosopher sent a rush of heat through Marsyas' veins. Cla.s.sicus was not feeling the spiritual combat within him, for the work he meditated, that racked the young Essene.

That fact acknowledged helped Marsyas in his intent.

"A word," Marsyas said.

Cla.s.sicus stopped, a little startled.

"Who art thou?"

"Marsyas, the Essene."

The young man had not helped his cause by the introduction.

"Out of my path," Cla.s.sicus said coldly. "I have nothing to say to thee!"

"I have somewhat to say to thee, Cla.s.sicus. If thou must be hard of heart, be not foolish and injurious to thyself."

"Suffer no pangs of concern for my welfare," the philosopher said.

"Preserve them, lest thine own cause find thee bankrupt in tears!"

"My cause will not need them: thou mayest. I know why thou art here and whither thou art going and for what purpose. I know who sent thee, why and what thou wilt accomplish. I know how feebly thou art aided and how much imperiled. Above all things I know what will happen to thee unless thou hearest me!"

"What a number of door-cracks hath yielded thee information! Stand aside before I call my servants to thee!"

Marsyas folded his arms. The green blackness of the bay threw his solid outlines into relief. The threat he had made suddenly appealed to Cla.s.sicus as ill-advised.

"Jewish brethren," Marsyas answered, his voice dropping into the softness which was premonitory, "do not speak thus with each other.

This was taught thee in the Synagogue. If thy lapse into evil hath let thee forget it, I care enough for thy manner to recall it to thee.

"First and above all things, know thou that I am not here to satisfy the hate of thee because thou hast wrested from me my beloved! Next, that I am here to stop thee in order to save her life, more than any other's. Now, for thyself. Thou goest to accomplish a deed that would recoil upon thine own head. If thou be tired of living, Cla.s.sicus, choose another way than to perish for the entertainment of him who duped thee."

"For thy peace of mind, O sage fool," Cla.s.sicus observed, "know that I come bearing a pet.i.tion to the emperor to seek for Agrippa's wife, who hath been abducted!"

"If thou present a pet.i.tion which in any way favors Agrippa or his wife, Tiberius will test the cord on thee to be sure it is strong enough to strangle Agrippa. And I tell thee, Cla.s.sicus, the Charon of the heathen Shades will not push off with the Herod; he will save himself a journey and await thy arrival!"

"Still threatening, still trembling for me! If I call these slaves to remove thee thou mayest tremble for thyself!"

"I am large, Cla.s.sicus, strong and determined. I could kill thee before thy stupid slaves ran three paces!"

Cla.s.sicus turned his eyes to the level line to the southwest. The l.u.s.ter on the horizon was gone. The great galley, broadside now as she hunted her channel, loomed large on the outskirts of the sheltered water. Once, the deck-lights flashed on a bank of her oars, rising wet and slippery from the sea.