The Count of the Saxon Shore; or The Villa in Vectis.<br />A Tale of the Departure of the Romans fro by Church and Putnam (the ebook reader txt) 📕

“You have something to tell us?” said Julian.

“Yes, I have,” said the stranger, “but let me first show you my credentials.”

He spoke in passable Latin, but with a decided accent, which, strongly marked as it was, was not recognized by any of those present. At the same time he produced from a silken purse, which he wore like a girdle round his waist, a small square of parchment. It was a letter written in a minute but very clear hand, and it had evidently been put for the security of the bearer, who could thus more easily dispose of it in case of need, into the smallest possible compass. This was handed to Constantine, who, in turn, passed it on to his elder son Constans, he being the only one present who could read and write with fluency. It ran thus:

“Alaric, the son of Baltha, King of the Goths, Emperor of the World, to Marcus, Emperor of Britain and the West, greeting.”

A grim smile passed over Constantine’s face as he heard this address. He muttered to himself, “ ‘Marcus,’ indeed! Those who write to the Emperor of Britain must have speedy letter-carriers.” The letter proceeded thus:

“I desire friendship and alliance with the nations who are wearied and worn out with the oppressions and cruelties of Rome, and for this purpose send this present by my [pg 80]trusty kinsman and counsellor Atualphus, to you who are, I understand, asserting against the common tyrant of the world the liberty of Britain and the West. I have not thought it fit to trust more to writing, but commend to you the bearer hereof, the aforesaid Atualphus, who is acquainted with the mind and purpose of myself and of my people, and with whom you may conveniently concert such plans as may best serve our common welfare. Farewell. Given at my camp at Æmona.”

“Marcus is no more,” said Julian. “He was unworthy of his dignity. You are in the presence of the most excellent Constantine, Emperor of Britain.”

“It matters not,” said the Goth, with a haughty smile. “My lord the king will treat as willingly with one as with another, so he be an enemy of Rome!”

“And what does he propose? What would he have us do?”

“Make common cause with him against Honorius and Rome.”

“What shall we gain thereby?”

“Half of the Empire of the World.”

“How shall that be?”

“The King will march into Italy and attack the Emperor in his own land. The Emperor will withdraw all the legions that he yet controls for his own defence. With them the King will deal. Then [pg 81]comes your opportunity. What does it profit you to remain in this island, where nothing is to be won either of glory or of riches. Cross over into Gaul and Spain, which, wearied with oppression and desiring above all things to throw off the Roman yoke, will gladly welcome you. Your Cæsar shall reign on this side of the Alps and the Pyrenees. The future may bring other things, but that may suffice for the present.”

The plan, so bold, and yet, it would seem, so feasible, and presenting a ready escape out of a situation that seemed hopeless, struck every one present with a delighted surprise. Even the phlegmatic Constantine was roused. “It shall be done,” he said.

Some further conversation followed, which it is not necessary to relate. Ways and means were discussed. Questions were asked about the strength and temper of the forces in Gaul and Spain, about the feeling of the towns, and a hundred other matters, with all of which Atualphus showed a curiously intimate knowledge. When the Goth retired from the council, he left very little doubt or hesitation behind him.

“They are heretics—these Goths,” grumbled Constans; “obstinate Arians every one of them, I told——”

“You shall convert them, my brother,” answered [pg 82]Julian, “when you are Bishop of Rome. When we divide the West between us, that shall be your portion.”

“It shall be done,” said Constantine again, as he rose from his chair.