Gelimer sat down on the couch; Zazo stood before him, leaning on his long sword, and began,--
"Soon after you went to the field, Pudentius came from Tripolis to Carthage."
"Again?"
"Yes, he is often at the palace and talks for hours, alone with the King. Or with Euages and Hoamer, the King's nephews, our beloved cousins. The latter, arrogant blockhead, can't keep silent after wine. In a drunken revel he told the secret."
"But surely not to you?"
"No! To red-haired Thrasaric."
"The savage!"
"I don't commend his morals," cried the other, laughing. "Yet he has grown much more sedate since he is honestly trying to win the dainty Eugenia. But he never lies. And he would die for the Vandal nation; especially for you, whom he calls his tutor. You begin education with blows. In the grove of Venus--"
"The Holy Virgin, you mean," Gelimer corrected.
"If you prefer?--yes! But it does the Virgin little honor, so long as the old customs remain. So, at a banquet in the shell grotto of that grove, Thrasaric was praising you, and said you would restore the warlike fame of the Vandals as soon as you were king, when Hoamer shouted angrily: 'Never! That will never be! Constantinople has forbidden it. Gelimer is the Emperor's foe. When my uncle dies,Ishall be king; or the Emperor will appoint Pudentius Regent of the kingdom. So it has been discussed and settled among us.'"
"That was said in a fit of drunkenness."
"Under the influence of wine--and in wine is truth, the Romans say. Just at that moment Pudentius came into the grotto. 'Aha!' called the drunken man, 'your last letter from the Emperor was worth its weight in gold. Just wait till I am King, I will reward you: you shall be the Emperor's exarch in Tripolis.'
"Pudentius was greatly startled and winked at him to keep silence, but he went on: 'No, no! that's your well-earned reward.' All this was told me by Thrasaric in the first outbreak of his wrath after he had rushed away from the banquet. But wait: there is more to come! This Pudentius--do you believe him our friend?"
"Oh, no," sighed Gelimer. "His grandparents and parents were cruelly slain by our kings because they remained true to their religion. How should the son and grandson love us?"
Zazo went close up to his brother, laid his hand heavily on his shoulder, and said slowly: "AndVerus? Isheto love us? Have you forgotten how his whole family--?"
Gelimer shook his head mournfully: "Forgetthat? I?" He shuddered and closed his eyes. Then, rousing himself by a violent effort from the burden of his gloomy thoughts, he went on: "Still your firmly rooted delusion! Always this distrust of the most faithful among all who love me!"
"Oh, brother! But I will not upbraid you; your clear mind is blinded, blinded by this priest! It seems as if there were some miracle at work--"
"Itisa miracle," interrupted Gelimer, deeply moved, raising his eyes devoutly.
"But what say you to the fact that this Pudentius, whom you, too, do not trust, is admitted to the city secretly at night--by whom? By Verus, your bosom friend!"
"That is not true."
"I have seen it. I will swear it to the priest's face. Oh, if only he were here now!"
"He is not far away. He told me--he was the first one of you all to greet me at the parade--that he longed to see me, he must speak to me at once. I appointed this place; as soon as the King dismissed me I would be here. Do you see? He is already coming down the colonnade."
The tall, haggard priest who now came slowly into the hall was several years older than Gelimer. A wide, dark-brown upper garment fell in mantle-like folds from his broad shoulders: his figure, and still more his unusually striking face, produced an impression of the most tenacious will. The features, it is true, were too sharply cut to be handsome; but no one who saw them ever forgot them. Strongly marked thick black brows shaded penetrating black eyes, which, evidently by design, were always cast down; the eagle nose, the firmly closed thin lips, the sunken cheeks, the pallid complexion, whose dull lustre resembled light yellow marble, combined to give the countenance remarkable character. Lips, cheeks, and chin were smoothly shaven, and so, too, was the black hair, more thickly mingled with gray than seemed quite suited to his age,--little more than forty years. Each of his rare gestures was so slow, so measured, that it revealed the rigid self-control practised for decades, by which this impenetrable man ruled himself--and others. His voice sounded expressionless, as if from deep sadness or profound weariness, but one felt that it was repressed; it was a rare thing to meet his eyes, but they often flashed with a sudden fire, and then intense passion glowed in their depths. Nothing that passed in this man's soul was recognizable in his features; only the thin lips, firmly as he closed them, sometimes betrayed by a slight, involuntary quiver that this rigid, corpse-like face was not a death-mask.
Gelimer had started up the instant he saw the priest, and now, hurrying toward him, clasped the motionless figure, which stood with arms hanging loosely before him, ardently to his heart.
"Verus, my Verus!" he cried, "my guardian angel! And you!--you!--they are trying to make me distrust. Really, brother, the stars would sooner change from God's eternal order in the heavens than this man fail in his fidelity to me." He kissed him on the cheek. Verus remained perfectly unmoved. Zazo watched the pair wrathfully.
"He has more love, more feeling," he muttered, stroking his thick beard, "for that Roman, that alien, than for--Speak, priest, can you deny that last Sunday, after midnight, Pudentius--ah, your lips quiver--Pudentius of Tripolis was secretly admitted by you through the little door in the eastern gate and received in your house, beside your basilica? Speak!"
Gelimer's eyes rested lovingly on his friend, and, smiling faintly, he shook his head. Verus was silent.
"Speak," Zazo repeated. "Deny it if you dare. You did not suspect that I was watching in the tower after I had relieved the guard. I had long suspected the gate-keeper; he was once a slave of Pudentius. You bought and freed him. Do you see, brother? He is silent! I will arrest him at once. We will search for secret letters his house, his chest, the altars, the sarcophagi of his church, nay, even his clothes."
Now Verus's black eyes suddenly blazed upon the bold soldier, then after a swift side-glance at Gelimer were again bent calmly on the floor.
"Or do you deny it?"
"No," fell almost inaudibly from the scarcely parted lips.
"Do you hear that, brother?"
Gelimer hastily advanced a step nearer to Verus.
"It was to tell you this that I requested an immediate interview," said the latter, quietly, turning his back on Zazo.
"That's what I call presence of mind!" cried Zazo, laughing loudly. "But how will you prove it?"
"I have brought the proof that Pudentius is a traitor," Verus went on, turning to Gelimer, without paying the slightest attention to his accuser. "Here it is."
He slowly threw back his cloak, passed his hand through the folds of his under garment, and after a short search drew from his breast a small, crumpled strip of papyrus, which he handed to Gelimer, who hurriedly unfolded it, and read,--
"In spite of your warning, we shall persist. Belisarius is perhaps already on the way. Give this to the King."
Both Vandals were startled.
"That letter?" asked Gelimer.
"Was written by Pudentius."
"To whom?"
"To me."
"Do you hear, brother?" exclaimed Zazo.
"He betrays--"
"The betrayers," Verus interrupted. "Yes, Gelimer, I have acted while you were hesitating, pondering, and this brave fool was sleeping, or--blustering. You remember, long ago I warned you that the King and his nephews were negotiating with Constantinople."
"Did he do so really, brother?" asked Zazo, eagerly.
"Long ago. And repeatedly."
Zazo shook his brown locks, angry, wondering, incredulous. But he said firmly,--
"Then forgive me, priest,--if I have really done you injustice."
"Pudentius," Verus continued, without replying, "was, I suspected, the go-between. I gained his confidence."
"That is, you deceived him--as you are perhaps deluding us," muttered Zazo.
"Silence, brother!" Gelimer commanded imperiously.
"It was not difficult to convince him. My family, like his, had by your kings--" he interrupted himself abruptly. "I expressed my anguish; I condemned your cruelty."
"With justice! Woe betide us, with justice!" groaned Gelimer, striking his brow with his clenched fist.
"I said that my friendship for you was not so strong as my resentment for all my kindred. He initiated me into the conspiracy. I was startled; for, in truth, unless God worked a miracle to blind him, the Vandal kingdom was hopelessly lost. I warned him--to gain time until your return--of the cruel vengeance you would take upon all Romans if the insurrection should be suppressed. He hesitated, promised to consider everything again, to discuss the matter once more with the King. There--this note, brought to me by a stranger to-day in the basilica, contains the decision. Act quickly, or it may be too late."
Gelimer gazed silently into vacancy. But Zazo drew his sword and was rushing from the hall.
"Where are you going?" asked the priest, in a low tone, seizing his arm. The grasp was so firm, so powerful, that the Vandal could not shake it off.
"Where? To the King! To cut down the traitor and his allies! Then assemble the army and--Hail to King Gelimer!"
"Silence, madman!" cried the latter, startled, as if his most secret wish were revealed to him, "you will stay here! Would you add to all the sins which already burden the Vandal race--especially our generation--the crime of dethronement, regicide, the murder of a kinsman? Where is the proof of Hilderic's guilt? Was my long-cherished distrust not merely the fruit, but the pretext,--inspired by my own impatient desire for the throne? Pudentius may lie--exaggerate. Where is the proof that treason is planned?"
"Will you wait till it has succeeded?" cried Zazo, defiantly.
"No! But do not punish till it is proved."
"There speaks the Christian," said the priest, approvingly.--"But the proof must be quickly produced: this very day. Listen, I have reason to believe that Pudentius is in the city now."
"We must have him!" cried Zazo. "Where is he? With the King?"
"They do not work so openly. He steals into the palace only by night. But I know his hiding-place. In the grove of the Holy Virgin--the warm baths."
"Send me, brother! Me! I will fly!"
"Go, then," replied Gelimer, waving his hand.
"But do not kill him," the priest called after the hurrying figure.
"No, by my sword! We must have him alive." He vanished down the corridor.
"Oh, Verus!" Gelimer passionately exclaimed, "you faithful friend! Shall I owe you the rescue of my people, as well as the deliverance of my own poor life from the most horrible death?" He eagerly clasped his hand.
The priest withdrew it.
"Thank God for your own and your people's destiny, not me. I am only the tool of His will, from the hour I assumed the garb of this priesthood. But listen: to you alone dare I confide the whole truth; yonder blockhead would ruin everything by his blind impetuosity. Your life is threatened. That does not alarm the hero! Yet you must preserve it for your people. Fall if fall you must, in battle, under the sword of Belisarius" (Gelimer's eyes sparkled, and a noble enthusiasm transfigured his face), "but do not perish miserably by murder."
"Murder? Who would--?"
"The King. No, do not doubt. Pudentius told me. The nephews overruled his opposition. They know that you will baffle their plans so long as you live. You must never be permitted to become King of the Vandals."
Here the black eyes shot a swift glance, then fell again.
"We shall see!" cried Gelimer, wrathfully. "Iwillbe King, and woe--"
Here he stopped suddenly. His breath came and went quickly. After a pause, repressing his vehemence, he asked humbly,--
"Is this ambition a sin, my brother?"
"You have a right to the crown," the other answered quietly. "If you should die, then, according to Genseric's law of succession, Hoamer, as the oldest male scion of the race, would follow. So they have persuaded the King to invite you on the day of your return to a secret interview in the palace--entirely alone--and there murder you."
"Impossible, my friend. I have already seen the King. He received me ungraciously, ungratefully; but," he smiled, "as you see, I am still alive."
"You went to see the King, surrounded by all the leaders of your troops fully armed. But beware that he does not summon you again alone."
"That would be strange. We discussed every subject of moment."
At that instant steps echoed in the corridor. A negro slave handed Gelimer a letter. "From the King," he said, and left the hall.
The hero tore the cord that fastened the little wax tablet, glanced at the contents, and turned pale.
It is true. Come at the tenth hour in the evening to my sleeping room, with no companion. I have a secret matter to discuss with you.HILDERIC.
It is true. Come at the tenth hour in the evening to my sleeping room, with no companion. I have a secret matter to discuss with you.
HILDERIC.
"You see--"
"No, no! I will not believe it. It may be accident. Hilderic is weak; he hates me; but he is no murderer."
"So much the better if Pudentius lied. But it is the duty of the friend to warn. Do not go there!"
"I must! I fear for myself? Does my Verus know me so little?"
"Then do not go alone. Take Zazo with you, or Gibamund."
"Impossible, against the King's command! And no one is permitted to have a private interview with the King except unarmed."
"Well, then, at least wearunderyour robe the cuirass, which will protect you from a dagger-thrust. And the short-sword? Cannot you conceal it in your sleeve or girdle?"
"Over-anxious friend!" said Gelimer, smiling. "But for your sake I will put on the cuirass."
"That is not enough for me. However, I will consider; there is one way of helping you in case of need. Yes, that will do."
"What do you mean?"
"Hush! I will pray that my thoughts may be fulfilled. You, too, my brother, pray. For you, we all, are to meet great dangers; and God alone sees the--"
Here he stopped suddenly, clasped both hands around his head, and with a hoarse cry sank upon the couch.
"Alas, Verus!" exclaimed Gelimer. "Are you faint?" Hastily seizing the mixing vessel, he sprinkled water on the insensible man's face, and rubbed his hands.
The priest opened his eyes again, and by a great effort, sat erect.
"Never mind; it is over! But the strain of this hour--was probably--too much. I will go--no, I need no support--to the basilica, to pray. Send Zazo there as soon as he returns--before you go to the King; do you hear? God grant my ardent desire!"
To Cethegus, a Friend.
The Vandal war has been given up, and for what pitiable reasons! You know that I have thought it far wiser for our rulers to attend to the matters immediately around us than to meddle with the Barbarians. For so long as this unbearable burden of taxation and abuse of official power continues in the Roman Empire, so long every conquest, every increase in the number of our subjects, will merely swell the list of unfortunates. Yet if Africa could be restored to the Empire, we ought not to relinquish the proud thought from sheer cowardice!
There stands the ugly word,--unhappily a true one. From cowardice? Not Theodora's. Indeed, that is not one of the faults of this delicate, otherwise womanly woman. Two years ago, when the terrible insurrection of the Greens and Blues in the Circus swept victoriously over the whole city, when Justinian despaired and wished to fly, Theodora's courage kept him in the palace, and Belisarius's fidelity saved him. But this time the blame does not rest upon the Emperor; it is the cowardice of the Roman army, or especially, the fleet. True, Justinian's zeal has cooled considerably since the failure of the crafty plan to destroy Genseric's kingdom; almost without a battle, principally by "arts,"--treachery, ordinary people term them. Hilderic, at an appointed time, was to send his whole army into the interior for a great campaign against the Moors; our fleet was to run into the unprotected harbors of Carthage, land the army, occupy the city, and make Hilderic, Hoamer, and a Senator the Emperor's three governors of the recovered province of Africa.
But this time we crafty ones were outwitted by a brain still more subtle. Our friend from Tripolis writes that he was deceived in the Arian priest whom he believed he had won for our cause. This man, at first well disposed, afterwards became wavering, warned, dissuaded--nay, perhaps even betrayed the plan to the Vandals. So an open attack must be made. This pleased Belisarius, but not the Emperor. He hesitated.
Meanwhile--Heaven knows through whom--the rumor of the coming Vandal war spread through the court, into the city, among the soldiers and sailors; and--disgrace and shame on us--nearly all the greatest dignitaries, the generals, and also the army and the fleet were seized with terror. All remembered the last great campaign against this dreaded foe, when, two generations ago--it was under the Emperor Leo--the full strength of the whole empire was employed. The ruler of the Western Empire attacked the Vandals simultaneously in Sardinia and Tripolis. Constantinople accomplished magnificent deeds. One hundred and thirty thousand pounds of gold were used; Basiliscus, the Emperor's brother-in-law, led a hundred thousand warriors to the Carthaginian coast. All were destroyed in a single night. Genseric attacked with firebrands the triremes packed too closely together at the Promontory of Mercury, while his swift horsemen at the same time assailed the camp on the shore; fleet and army were routed in blood and flame. Even to the present day do the Prefect and the Treasurer lament the loss. "It will be just the same now as it was then. The last money in the almost empty coffers will be flung into the sea!" But the generals (except Belisarius and Narses), what heroes they are! Each fears that the Emperor will choose him. And how, even if they overcome the terrors of the ocean, is a landing to be made upon a hostile coast defended by the dreaded Germans? The soldiers, who have just returned from the Persian War, have barely tasted the joys of home. They are talking mutinously in every street; no sooner returned from the extreme East, they must be sent to the farthest West, to the Pillars of Hercules, to fight with Moors and Vandals. They were not used to sea-battles, were not trained for them, were not enlisted for the purpose, and therefore were under no obligations. The Prefect, especially, represented to the Emperor that Carthage was a hundred and fifty days' march by land from Egypt, while the sea was barred by the invincible fleet of the Vandals. "Don't meddle with this African wasp's nest," he warned him. "Or the corsair ships will ravage all our coasts and islands as they did in the days of Genseric." And this argument prevailed. The Emperor has changed his mind. How the hero Belisarius fumes and rages!
Theodora resents--in silence. But she vehemently desired this war! I am really no favorite of hers. I am far too independent, too much the master of my own thoughts, and my conscience pricks me often enough for my insincerity. She certainly has the best--that is, the best trained--conscience: it no longer disturbs her. Doubtless she smoothed down its pricks long ago. But I have repeatedly received the dainty little papyrus rolls whose seal bears a scorpion surrounded by flames,--little notes in which she earnestly urged me to the "war spirit," if I desired to retain her friendship.
Since I wrote this--a few days ago--new and important tidings have come from Africa. Great changes have taken place there, which perhaps may force the vacillating Emperor to go to war. What our statecraft had striven in the most eager and crafty manner to prevent has already happened in spite of this effort, perhaps in consequence of it. Gelimer is King of the Vandals!
The archdeacon Verus--all names can be mentioned now--had really spun webs against, not for us. He betrayed everything to Gelimer! Pudentius of Tripolis, who was secretly living in Carthage, was to have been seized; Verus had betrayed his hiding-place. It is remarkable, by the way, that Pudentius hastily fled from the city a short time before, on the priest's swiftest horse.
That same day a mysterious event occurred in the palace, of which nothing is known definitely except the result--for Gelimer is King of the Vandals; but the connection, the causes, are very differently told. Some say that Gelimer wanted to murder the King, others that the King tried to kill Gelimer. Others again whisper--so Pudentius writes--of a secret warning which reached the King: a stranger informed him by letter that Gelimer meant to murder him at their next private interview. The sovereign, to convince himself, must instantly summon him to one; the assassin would either refuse to come, from fear awakened by an evil conscience, or he would appear--contrary to the strict prohibition of court laws--secretly armed. Hilderic must provide himself with a coat of mail and a dagger, and have help close at hand. The King obeyed this counsel.
It is certain that he summoned Gelimer on the evening of that very day to an interview in his bedroom on the ground-floor of the palace. Gelimer came. The King embraced him, and in doing so, discovered the armor under his robe and called for help. The ruler's two nephews, Hoamer and Euages, rushed with drawn swords from the next room to kill the assassin. But at the same moment Gelimer's two brothers, whom Verus had concealed amid the shrubbery in the garden, sprang through the low windows of the ground-floor. The King and Euages were disarmed and taken prisoners; Hoamer escaped. Hastening into the courtyard of the Capitol, he called the Vandals to arms to rescue their King, who had been murderously attacked by Gelimer. The Barbarians hesitated: Hilderic was unpopular, Gelimer a great favorite, and the people did not believe him capable of such a crime. The latter now appeared, gave the lie to his accuser, and charged Hilderic and his nephews with the attempt at assassination. To decide the question he challenged Hoamer to single combat in the presence of the whole populace, and killed him at the first blow.
The Vandals tumultuously applauded him, at once declared Hilderic deposed, and proclaimed Gelimer, who was the legal heir, their King. It was with the utmost difficulty that his intercession saved the lives of the two captives. Verus is said to have been made prothonotary and chancellor, Gelimer's chief councillor, since he saved his life! We know better, we who were betrayed, how this priest earned his reward at our expense.
But I believe that this change of ruler will compel the war. It is now a point of honor with Justinian to save or avenge his dethroned and imprisoned friend. I have already composed a wonderful letter to the "Tyrant" Gelimer which closes thus: "So, contrary to justice and duty, you are keeping your cousin, the rightful King of the Vandals, in chains, and robbing him of the crown. Replace him on the throne, or know that we will march against you, and in so doing (this sentence the Emperor of the Pandects dictated word for word)--in so doing we shall not break the compact of perpetual peace formerly concluded with Genseric, for we shall not be fighting against Genseric's lawful successor, but to avenge him." Note the legal subtlety. The Emperor is more proud of that sentence than Belisarius of his great Persian victory at Dara. If this Gelimer should actually do what we ask, the avengers of justice would be most horribly embarrassed. For wedesirethis war; that is, we wanted Africa long before the occurrence of the crime which we shall march to avenge--unless we prefer, with wise economy and caution, to remain at home.
* * * * *
We have received the Vandal's answer. A right royal reply for a Barbarian and tyrant. "The sovereign Gelimer to the sovereign Justinian "--he uses the same word, "Basileus," for Emperor and for King, the bold soldier.
"I did not seize the sceptre by violence, nor have I committed any crime against my kindred. But the Vandal people deposed Hilderic because he himself was planning evil against the Asding race, against the rightful heir to the throne, against our kingdom. The law of succession summoned me, as the oldest of the Asding family after Hilderic, to the empty throne.
"He is a praiseworthy ruler, O Justinianus, who wisely governs his own kingdom and does not interfere with foreign states. If you break the peace guarded by sacred oaths, and attack us, we shall manfully defend ourselves, and appeal to God, who punishes perjury and wrong."
Good! I like you. King Gelimer! I am glad to have our Emperor of lawyers told that he must not blow what is not burning him: a proverb which to me seems a tolerably fair embodiment of all legal wisdom. True, I have my own thoughts concerning the divine punishment of all earthly injustice.
The Barbarian's letter has highly incensed Justinian, another proof that the Barbarian is right. But I believe we shall put this answer in our pockets just as quietly as we returned to its sheath the sword we had already drawn. The Emperor inveighs loudly against the Tyrant, but the army shouts still more loudly that it will not fight. And the Empress--is silent.
Meanwhile King Gelimer was moving forward with all his power to preparations for the threatening conflict. He found much, very much, to be done. The King, assuming the chief direction, and working wherever he was needed, had given Zazo charge of the fleet and Gibamund that of the army.
One sultry August evening he received their reports. The three brothers had met in the great throne-room and armory of the palace, into which Gelimer had now moved; the open windows afforded a magnificent view of the harbors and the sea beyond them; the north wind brought a refreshing breath from the salt tide.
This portion of the ancient citadel had been rebuilt by the Vandal kings, changed to suit the necessities of life in a German palace. The round column of the Greeks had been replaced, in imitation of the wood used in the construction of the German halls, by huge square pillars of brown and red marble, which Africa produced in the richest variety. The ceiling was wainscoted with gayly painted or burned wood, and, on both stone and timber, besides the house-mark of the Asdings,--an A transfixed by an arrow,--many another rune, even many a short motto, was inscribed in Gothic characters. Costly crimson silk hangings waved at the open arched windows; the walls were set with slabs of polished marble in the most varied contrast of often vivid colors, for the Barbarian taste loved bright hues. The floor was composed of polished mosaic, but it was rough and not well fitted. Genseric had simply brought whole shiploads of the brightest hues he could drag from the palaces of plundered Rome, with statues and bas-reliefs, which were put together here with little choice.
Opposite to the side facing the sea, rose, at the summit of five steps, a stately structure, the throne of Genseric. The steps were very broad; they were intended to accommodate the King's enormous train, the Palatines and Gardings, the leaders of the thousands and hundreds, stationed according to their rank and the ruler's favor. In their rich fantastic costumes and armor, a combination of German and Roman taste, they often gathered closely around the sovereign and stood crowding together; the scarlet silk Vandal banners fluttered above them, and a golden dragon swung by a rope from the tent-like canopy of the lofty purple throne. When from this throne, at whose feet, as a symbolical tribute from conquered Moorish princes, lion and tiger skins lay piled a foot high, the mighty sea-king arose, swinging around his head with angry, threatening words the seven-lashed scourge (a gift from his friend Attila), many an envoy of the Emperor forgot the arrogant speech he had prepared.
The wonderful splendor of this hall fairly bewildered the eye; but its richest ornament was the countless number of weapons of every variety, and of every nation, principally German, Roman, and Moorish; but also from all the other coasts and islands which the sea-king's corsair ships could visit. They covered all the pillars and walls; nay, the shields and breastplates were even spread over the entire ceiling.
A strange, dazzling light now poured over all this bronze, silver, and gold, as the slanting rays of the setting sun streamed from the northwest into the hall. A broad white marble table was completely covered with parchment and papyrus rolls, containing lists of the bodies of troops, by thousands and hundreds, drawings of ships, maps of the Vandal kingdom, charts of the Bay of Gades and the Tyrrhenian Sea.
"You have accomplished more than the possible during the weeks I have been in the west, trying to bring the Vandals thence to Carthage," said the King, laying down a wax tablet on which he had been computing figures. "True, we are far, far from possessing the numbers or the strength of the ships which formerly bore 'the terror of the Vandals' to every shore. But these hundred and fifty will be amply sufficient, and more than sufficient, to defend our own coast and to prevent a landing, if behind the fleet there stands a body of foot soldiers on the shore."
"No, do not sigh, my Gibamund," cried Zazo. "Our brother knows it is no fault of yours that the army is not--cannot accomplish what--"
"Oh," exclaimed Gibamund, wrathfully, "it is all in vain! No matter what I do, they will not drill. They want to drink and bathe and carouse and ride and see the games in the Circus, indulge in everything that consumes a man's marrow in that accursed grove of Venus."
"But that abomination ended yesterday," said the King.
"Much you know about it, O Gelimer," said Zazo, shaking his head. "You have accomplished miracles since you wore this heavy crown; but to cleanse the grove of Venus--"
"Not cleanse; close!" replied the King, sternly. "It has been closed since yesterday."
"I must complain, accuse many," Gibamund went on, "especially the nobles. They refuse to fight on foot, to take part in the drill of the foot soldiers. You know how much we need them. They appeal to the privileges bestowed by weak Sovereigns; they say they are no longer obliged to enter the ranks of the foot soldiers! Hilderic permitted every Vandal to buy freedom from it, if he would hire in his place two Moorish or other mercenaries."
"I have abolished these privileges."
"Oh, yes. And during your absence there was open rebellion; blood flowed on that account in the streets of Carthage. But the worst thing is, that these effeminate nobles and the richer citizenscanno longer fight on foot. They say--and unfortunately it is true--that they can no longer bear the weight of the heavy helmets, breastplates, shields, and spears, no longer hurl the lances which I had brought out again from Genseric's arsenal."
"They are of course required to arm themselves," said Zazo. "So why--"
"Because most have sold the ancient weapons or exchanged them for jewels, wine, dainties, or female slaves; or else for arms that are mere ornaments and toys. I allow no one to enter the army with this rubbish; and before they are properly equipped, the victory and the Empire might be lost. But it is true: they can no longer carry Genseric's armor. They would fall in a short time. They are swearing because we are now in the very hottest months."
"Are we to tell the enemy that the Vandals fight only in the winter?" cried Zazo, laughing.
"Therefore to fill the ranks of our foot soldiers I have already obtained many thousand Moorish mercenaries," the King replied. "Of course these sons of the desert, variable, impetuous, changeful, like the sands of their home, are a poor substitute for German strength. But I have gained twenty chiefs with about ten thousand men."
"Is Cabaon, the graybeard of countless years, among them?" asked Gibamund.
"No, he delays his answer."
"It is a pity. He is the most powerful of them all! And his prophetic renown extends far beyond his tribe," observed Zazo.
"Well, we shall have better assistants than the Moorish robbers," said Gibamund, consolingly. "The brave Visigoths in Spain."
"Have you yet received an answer from their king?"
"Yes and no! King Theudis is shrewd and cautious. I urged upon him earnestly (I wrote the letter myself; I did not leave it to Verus) that Constantinople was not threatening us Vandals solely; that the imperial troops could easily cross the narrow straits from Ceuta, if we were once vanquished. I offered him an alliance. He answered evasively: he must first be sure of what we could accomplish in the war."
"What does he mean by that?" cried Zazo, angrily. "I suppose he wants to wait till the end of the conflict. Whether we conquer or are vanquished, we shall no longer need him!"
"I wrote again, still more urgently. His answer will soon come."
"But the Ostrogoths?" asked Gibamund, eagerly. "What do they reply?"
"Nothing at all."
"That is bad," said Gibamund.
"I wrote to the Regent: I stated that I was innocent of Hilderic's shameful deed. I warned her against Justinian, who was threatening her no less than us; I reminded her of the close kinship of our nations--"
"You have not yet stooped to entreaties?" asked Zazo, indignantly.
"By no means. I besought nothing. I merely requested, as our just right, that the Ostrogoths at least would not aid our foes. As yet I have had no answer. But worse than the lack of allies, the most perilous thing is the utter, foolish undervaluation of the enemy among our own people," added the King.
"Yes! They say, Why should we weary ourselves with drilling and arming? The little Greeks won't dare to attack us! And if they really do come, the grandsons of Genseric will destroy the grandsons of Basiliscus just as Genseric destroyed him."
"But we are no longer Genseric's Vandals!" Gelimer lamented. "Genseric brought with him an army of heroes, brave, trained by twenty years of warfare with other Germans and with the Romans in the mountains of Spain, simple, plain in tastes, rigid in morals. He closed the houses of Roman pleasure in Carthage; he compelled all women of light fame to marry or enter convents."
"But how that suited the husbands and the other nuns is not told," replied Zazo, laughing.
"And now, to-day, our youths are as corrupt as the most profligate Romans. To the cruelty of the fathers"--the King sighed deeply--"is added the dissipation, the intemperance, the effeminate indolence of the sons. How can such a nation endure? It must succumb."
"But we Asdings," said Gibamund, drawing himself up to his full height, while his eyes sparkled and a noble look transfigured his whole face, "we are unsullied by such stains."
"What sins have we--you and we two committed," Zazo added, "that we must perish?"
Again the King sighed heavily, his brow clouded, he lowered his eyes.
"We? Do we not bear the curse which--But hush! Not a word of that! It is the last straw of my hope that I, the King, at least wear this crown without guilt. Were I obliged to accuse myself of that, woe betide me! Oh--whose is this cold hand? You, Verus? You startled me."
"He steals in noiselessly, like a serpent," Zazo muttered in his beard.
The priest--he had retained, even as chancellor, the ecclesiastical robe--had entered unobserved; how long before, no one knew. His eyes were fixed intently upon Gelimer, as he slowly withdrew the hand he had laid upon his friend's bare arm.
"Yes, my sovereign, keep this anxiety of conscience. Guard your soul from guilt. I know your nature; it would crush you."
"You shall not make my brother still more gloomy," cried Zazo, indignantly.
"Gelimer and guilt!" exclaimed Gibamund, throwing his arm around the King's neck.
"He is only too conscientious, too much given to pondering," Zazo went on. "Really, Gelimer, you, too, are no longer like Genseric's Vandals. You are infected also; not by Roman vices, but by Roman or Greek or Christian brooding over subtle questions. To put it more courteously: gnosticism, theosophy, or mysticism? I know nothing about it, cannot even think of it. How glad I am that our father did not send me to be educated by the priests and philosophers! He soon discovered that Zazo's hard skull was fit only for the helmet, not to carry a reed behind the ear. But you! I always felt as though I were going into a dungeon when I visited you in your gloomy, high-walled monastery, in the solitude of the desert. Many, many years you dreamed away there among the books--lost."
"Not lost!" replied Gibamund. "He found time to become the chief hero of his people. On him rests the hope of the Vandals."
"On the whole House of the Asdings! We are not degenerates," answered the King. "But can a single family--even though it is the reigning one--stay the sinking of a whole nation? Uplift one that has fallen so low?"
"Hardly," said Verus, shaking his head. "For who can say of himself that he is free from sin? And," he added slowly, suddenly raising his eyes and fixing them full upon Gelimer, "the sins of the fathers--"
"Stay," exclaimed the King, groaning aloud, as if in anguish. "Not that thought now--when I must act, create, accomplish. It will paralyze me." He pressed his hand over his eyes and brow.
"Even at the present time," the priest continued, "sin is dominant everywhere among the people. It cries aloud to Heaven for vengeance. Just now I was obliged, to comfort a dying man--"
"Even as Chancellor of the Kingdom, he does not forget the duties of the priest," said Gelimer, turning to his brothers.
"To go near the southern gate. Again, from that grove devoted to every vice, there fell upon my ear the uproar, the infernal jubilee of evil revel. Those shameless songs--"
"What?" cried the King, wrathfully, striking the marble table with his clinched fist. "Do they dare? Did I not order, before my departure for Hippo, that all these games and festivals should cease? Did I not fix yesterday as the final limit, after which the grove must be cleared and all its houses closed? I sent three hundred lancers to see that my commands were obeyed. What are they doing?"
"Those who are no longer dancing and drinking are asleep, weary of carousing, full of wine, which they drank, like all who were there. I saw a little group snoring under the archway of the gate."
"I will give them a terrible awakening," cried the King. "Must sin actually devour us?"
"That grove is beyond cure," said Zazo.
"What the sword cannot do, the flames will," exclaimed the King, threateningly. "I will sweep through them like the wrath of God! Up, follow me, my brothers!" He rushed out of the room.
"Order the hundreds of horsemen to mount, Gibamund," said Zazo, as they crossed the threshold,--"the household troop, under faithful Markomer. For the Vandals no longer obey the King's word unless at the same time they see the glitter of the King's sword."
The archdeacon, muttering softly to himself and shaking his head, slowly followed the three Asdings.
The "lower city" of Carthage extended northward to the harbor, westward to the suburb of Aklas, the Numidian, and eastward to the Tripolitan suburb. Directly beyond its southern gate, covering a space more than two leagues long and a league wide, lay the oft-mentioned "Grove of Venus" or "Grove of the Holy Virgin." From the most ancient pagan times this grove was the scene of the sumptuous, sensual revels which were proverbial throughout the Roman Empire. "African" was the word used to express the acme of such orgies.
The whole coast of the bay in this neighborhood, kept moist by the damp sea-air, had originally been covered with dense woods. The larger portion had long since yielded to the growth of the city; but, by the Emperor's order, a considerable part was retained and transformed into a magnificent park, adorned with all the skill and the lavish expenditure which characterized the time of the Cæsars.
The main portion of this grove consisted of date palms. These were introduced by the Phoenicians. The palm, say the Arabs, gladly sets her feet as queen of the desert into damp sand, but lifts her head into the glow of the sun. It thrived magnificently here, and in centuries of growth the slender columns of the trunks attained a height of fifty feet; no sunbeam could penetrate vertically through the roof of drooping leaves of those thick crowns, which rustled and nodded dreamily in the wind, wooing, inviting to sleep, to unresisting indolence, to drowsy thoughts.
But they stood sufficiently far apart to allow the light and air to enter from the sides and to permit smaller trees (dwarf palms), bushes, and flowers to grow luxuriantly beneath the shelter of the lofty crowns. Besides the palms, other noble trees had been first planted and fostered by human hands, then had increased through the peerless fertility of nature: the plane-tree, with its lustrous light bark; the pine, the cypress, and the laurel; the olive, which loves the salt breath of the sea; the pomegranate, so naturalized here that its fruit was called "the Carthaginian apple"; while figs, citrus-trees, apricots, peaches, almonds, chestnuts, pistachios, terebinths, oleanders, and myrtles,--sometimes as large trees, sometimes as shrubs,--formed, as it were, the undergrowth of the glorious palm forest.
And the skill in gardening of the Roman imperial days, which has scarcely been equalled since, aided by irrigation from the immense aqueducts, had created here, on the edge of the desert, marvels of beauty. "Desert" was a misnomer; the real desert lay much farther in the interior. First there was a thick luxuriant green turf, which, even in the hottest days of the year, had hardly a single sunburnt patch. The wind had borne the flower-seeds from the numerous beds, and now everywhere amid the grass blossoms shone in the vivid, glowing hues with which the African sun loves to paint.
The parterres of flowers which were scattered through the entire grove suffered, it is true, from a certain monotony. The variety that now adorns our gardens was absent: the rose, the narcissus, the violet, and the anemone stood almost alone; but these appeared in countless varieties, in colors artificially produced, and were often made to blossom before or after their regular season.
In this world of trees, bushes, and flowers the lavishness of the emperors (who had formerly often resided here), the munificence of the governors, and still more the endowments of wealthy citizens of Carthage had erected an immense number of buildings of every variety. For centuries patriotism, a certain sense of honor, and often vanity, boastfulness, and a desire to perpetuate a name, had induced wealthy citizens to keep themselves in remembrance by erecting structures for the public benefit, laying out pleasure-grounds, and putting up monuments. This local patriotism of the former citizens, both in its praiseworthy and its petty motives, had by no means died out. Solemn tombs separated by very narrow spaces lined both sides of the broad Street of Legions, which ran straight through the grove from north to south. Besides these there were buildings of every description, and also baths, ponds, little lakes with waterworks, marble quays, and dainty harbors for the light pleasure-boats, circus buildings, amphitheatres, stages, stadia for athletic sports, hippodromes, open colonnades, temples with all their numerous and extensive outbuildings scattered everywhere through the grounds of the whole park.
The grove had originally been dedicated to Aphrodite (Venus), therefore statues of this goddess and of Eros (Cupid) appeared most frequently in the wide grounds, though Christian zeal had shattered the heads, breasts, and noses of many such figures and broken the bow of many a Cupid. Since the reign of Constantine, most of the pagan temples had been converted into Christian oratories and churches, but by no means all; and those that had been withdrawn from the service of the pagan religion and not used for the Christian one had now for two centuries, with their special gardens, arbors, and grottoes, been the scenes of much vice, gambling, drunkenness, and matters even worse. The gods had been driven out; the demons had entered.
Among more than a hundred buildings in the grove, two near the Southern Gate of the city were specially conspicuous: the Old Circus and the Amphitheatre of Theodosius.
The Old Circus had been erected in the period of the greatest prosperity of Carthage, the whole spacious structure, with its eighty thousand seats, was planned to accommodate its great population. Now most of the rows stood empty; many of the Roman families, since the Vandal conquest, had moved away, been driven forth, exiled. The rich bronze ornaments of numerous single seats, rows, and boxes had been broken off. This was done not by the Vandals, who did not concern themselves about such trifles, but by the Roman inhabitants of the city and by the neighboring peasants; they even wrenched off and carried away the marble blocks from the buildings in the grove. The granite lower story, a double row of arches, supported the rows of marble seats, which rose from within like an amphitheatre. Outside, the Circus was surrounded by numerous entrances and outside staircases, besides niches occupied as shops, especially workshops, cookshops, taverns, and fruit booths. Here, by night and day, many evil-minded people were always lounging; from the larger ones, hidden by curtains from the eyes of the passing throng, cymbals and drums clashed, in token that, within, Syrian and Egyptian girls were performing their voluptuous dances for a few copper coins. South of the Circus was a large lake, fed with sea-water from the "Stagnum," whose whole contents could be turned into the amphitheatre directly adjoining it.