Quo Vadis: A Narrative of the Time of Nero by Henryk Sienkiewicz (nonfiction book recommendations .txt) 📕

Vinicius. He conducted Nazarius to the library, and after a while Petronius came in to hear their conversation.

“Sickness saved her from shame, for executioners are timid,” said the youth. “Ursus and Glaucus the physician watch over her night and day.”

“Are the guards the same?”

“They are, and she is in their chamber. All the prisoners in the lower dungeon died of fever, or were stifled from foul air.”

“Who art thou?” inquired Petronins.

“The noble Vinicius knows me. I am the son of that widow with whom Lygia lodged.”

“And a Christian?”

The youth looked with inquiring glance at Vinicius, but, seeing him in prayer, he raised his head, and answered,—

“I am.”

“How canst thou enter the prison freely?”

“I hired myself to carry out corpses; I did so to assist my brethren and bring them news from the city.”

Petronius looked more attentively at the comely face of the youth, his blue eyes, and dark, abundant hair.

“From what country art thou, youth?” asked he.

“I am a Galilean, lord.”

“Wouldst thou like to see Lygia free?”

The youth raised his eyes. “Yes, even had I to die afterwards.”

Then Vinicius ceased to pray, and said,—

“Tell the guards to place her in a coffin as if she were dead. Thou wilt find assistants to bear her out in the night with thee. Near the ‘Putrid Pits’ will be people with a litter waiting for you; to them ye will give the coffin. Promise the guards from me as much gold as each can carry in his mantle.”

While speaking, his face lost its usual torpor, and in him was roused the soldier to whom hope had restored his former energy.

Nazarius was flushed with delight, and, raising his hands, he exclaimed,

“May Christ give her health, for she will be free.”

“Dost thou think that the guards will consent?” inquired Petronius.

“They, lord? Yes, if they know that punishment and torture will not touch them.”

“The guards would consent to her flight; all the more will they let us bear her out as a corpse,” said Vinicius.

“There is a man, it is true,” said Nazarius, “who burns with red-hot iron to see if the bodies which we carry out are dead. But he will take even a few sestertia not to touch the face of the dead with iron. For one aureus he will touch the coffin, not the body.”

“Tell him that he will get a cap full of aurei,” said Petronius. “But canst thou find reliable assistants?”

“I can find men who would sell their own wives and children for money.”

“Where wilt thou find them?”

“In the prison itself or in the city. Once the guards are paid, they will admit whomever I like.”

“In that case take me as a hired servant,” said Vinicius.

But Petronius opposed this most earnestly. “The pretorians might recognize thee even in disguise, and all would be lost. Go neither to the prison nor the ‘Putrid Pits.’ All, including Cæsar and Tigellinus, should be convinced that she died; otherwise they will order immediate pursuit. We can lull suspicion only in this way: When she is taken to the Alban Hills or farther, to Sicily, we shall be in Rome. A week or two later thou wilt fall ill, and summon Nero’s physician; he will tell thee to go to the mountains. Thou and she will meet, and afterward—”

Here he thought a while; then, waving his hand, he said,—

“Other times may come.”

“May Christ have mercy on her,” said Vinicius. “Thou art speaking of Sicily, while she is sick and may die.”

“Let us keep her nearer Rome at first. The air alone will restore her, if only we snatch her from the dungeon. Hast thou no manager in the mountains whom thou canst trust?”

“I have,” replied Vinicius, hurriedly. “Near Corioli is a reliable man who carried me in his arms when I was a child, and who loves me yet.”

“Write to him to come to-morrow,” said Petronius, handing Vinicius tablets. “I will send a courier at once.”

He called the chief of the atrium then, and gave the needful orders. A few minutes later, a mounted slave was coursing in the night toward Corioli.

“It would please me were Ursus to accompany her,” said Vinicius. “I should be more at rest.”

“Lord,” said Nazarius, “that is a man of superhuman strength; he can break gratings and follow her. There is one window above a steep, high rock where no guard is placed. I will take Ursus a rope; the rest he will do himself.”

“By Hercules!” said Petronius, “let him tear himself out as he pleases, but not at the same time with her, and not two or three days later, for they would follow him and discover her hiding-place. By Hercules! do ye wish to destroy yourselves and her? I forbid you to name Corioli to him, or I wash my hands.”

Both recognized the justice of these words, and were silent. Nazarius took leave, promising to come the next morning at daybreak.

He hoped to finish that night with the guards, but wished first to run in to see his mother, who in that uncertain and dreadful time had no rest for a moment thinking of her son. After some thought he had determined not to seek an assistant in the city, but to find and bribe one from among his fellow corpse-bearers. When going, he stopped, and, taking Vinicius aside, whispered,—

“I will not mention our plan to any one, not even to my mother, but the Apostle Peter promised to come from the amphitheatre to our house; I will tell him everything.”

“Here thou canst speak openly,” replied Vinicius. “The Apostle was in the amphitheatre with the people of Petronius. But I will go with you myself.”

He gave command to bring him a slave’s mantle, and they passed out. Petronius sighed deeply.

“I wished her to die of that fever,” thought he, “since that would have been less terrible for Vinicius. But now I am ready to offer a golden tripod to Esculapius for her health. Ah! Ahenobarbus, thou hast the wish to turn a lover’s pain into a spectacle; thou, Augusta, wert jealous of the maiden’s beauty, and wouldst devour her alive because thy Rufius has perished. Thou, Tigellinus, wouldst destroy her to spite me! We shall see. I tell you that your eyes will not behold her on the arena, for