  When they were called in to supper the two women were awaiting them, bright-eyed and radiant, at a modest, but well-filled table. Their new-found cheerfulness, however, was doomed to a brief existence. Cestus remained silent and gloomy; and Masthlion, equally taciturn, despatched his meal rapidly, as though it were a task to be well rid of. Their dampened spirits were still more depressed, when the potter, immediately on swallowing the last mouthful, announced, in a blunt, matter-of-fact way, his intended visit to Capreae. With a certain amount of dismay they at once expressed their disapprobation of the undertaking. It oppressed them with a sense of dread—it was of too great a magnitude. The very name of Caesar filled them with awe. They used their best efforts to dissuade the potter, assisted by the interjectory remarks and sarcasms of Cestus; but they plainly saw that their efforts were doomed to be vain. Masthlion bade them put away their fears, and, with something of his natural manner, clapped his wife gently on the shoulder as he went back to his workshop. Without being reassured, the women went silently about their work of removing the supper things, their hearts as heavy as before they had been cheerful. ‘Have you put this into his head?’ demanded Tibia suddenly of her brother. Her glance was suspicious and her tone unusually sharp. ‘Have I put it into his head?’ replied Cestus, with concentrated scorn. ‘Oh, to be sure. Had I put it into his head, in the first place, I should hardly have taken the trouble I have to drive it out again.’ His sister being silenced he said no more, and sat tilting himself backward and forward, in moody silence, on his stool. [pg 281]NeÆra bestowed on him one or two lofty glances, which plainly showed that her ideas flowed in the same direction as the dame’s. She said nothing, however, and glided hither and thither, in and out, in her occupation. Presently she went quietly to the door of the workshop, and, tapping gently, asked for admission. Cestus caught the sounds and stopped his restless motion. The door creaked open, and by and by it closed again, and NeÆra returned into the passage. The Suburan’s quick ear heard the voices of the two females mingling outside. There was a smothered sob, and presently a light foot sped up the stairs. Tibia then came into the room to give a parting touch to its arrangements before retiring for the night. Her face was more dejected than ever. ‘She has been in to see him,’ observed Cestus. Tibia nodded yes. ‘And did no good, I can tell.’ The dame this time shook her head, and remained standing, with one hand on her hip and the other underneath a kind of apron which she wore over her gown, as if ready to lift it to stanch the drops which struggled into her patient eyes. ‘Very well, then,’ continued her brother, ‘we may as well give the matter up, for the man will go his own way. It’s of no use to show him his madness. That being the case, there is something you must know without any further delay, since he is determined to throw himself away. Wait and I will bring him in.’ ‘He is busy, Cestus,’ dissuaded she. ‘He will have to make a few moments’ leisure, however,’ was the reply, and the Suburan went accordingly to summon the potter. The latter obeyed without demur on learning the reason for his required presence. Cestus shut the door and took his former position on his stool. ‘Brother-in-law, since you will not listen to reason concerning this errand of yours to Capreae, and since I have small hope of ever seeing you return, Tibia must hear, in your presence, what I have already told you alone. Your life is your own, and if you are determined to shorten it at once you can do so, I suppose. That is your own matter, and you can settle it with or without your wife’s help. But in the matter of [pg 282] ‘You put it in a pleasant way, kinsman,’ returned Masthlion, smiling; ‘but as you are bent on putting me to death I won’t argue the point. Nevertheless I agree with you that it is time Tibia should know what we know about our child—I still call her ours, you see. It was only at your wish that I have kept silence as long as this. Tell her the story—I cannot.’ Tibia sat looking from one to the other in her mute way, her hands lying folded in her lap, and her eyes full of anxious curiosity. What new trouble was this which was about to be launched upon her? Was it the secret which had darkened her husband’s face so long? Was it not enough to be told that he was about to throw away his life on the morrow? Cestus, her brother, was the cloud upon her house. It was time he left it, since matters had seemed to go strangely wrong with the hour of his arrival. What of the child NeÆra? He had brought her there—did he want to take her away again? Her gaze fixed on the Suburan as this thought broke upon her slow brain. Her brows knitted slightly, and her eyes seemed to contract and congeal, for a moment, into lifeless glassy balls. She had a manner of meeting bitter trouble, as it were, with a motionless, voiceless, passive numbness. It resembled the action of some animals and reptiles when seized in the grip of a ferocious enemy. The functions of body and brain seemed withdrawn into an impenetrable inner casket, leaving all else relaxed, lifeless, and torpid. It is the supreme effort to resist exquisite torture, this power of self-paralysation, this contraction of all sense into the numbness of oblivion; whilst to the beholder the spectacle of mute suffering is the most heartrending of all. Cestus, without further delay, began the same narrative he had already related to Masthlion. Tibia sat like a carven image, with her hands clenched in her lap and her head half bowed. Once only during the recital she started slightly, when she heard the noble parentage of the child she had tended, and she gave a swift, half-startled glance, first at Cestus, and [pg 283] ‘This, then, is what has haunted thee and darkened the house!’ she cried out sharply to her husband, as she threw her apron over her head. The anguish of her glance cut the potter to the heart. A silence fell on the room for a minute. Masthlion could not summon a word, and Cestus swung uneasily on his stool. Then the latter cleared his throat and tried to smooth matters, with arguments already familiar to the reader. ‘Why, Tibia, you have tended the child till she has become like your own, and it is hard, I admit, to hear she must leave you. But consider, she was bound to go, for the Centurion will marry her and take her away to Rome, at all events. Why trouble them? The only way, if you cannot abide without being near her, is to go after her. I have already told Masthlion this, with all the common sense one can be capable of, and shown him how it is the best place for employment in all his work.’ ‘I have already agreed; if Tibia is willing we will go to the great city,’ said Masthlion. ‘Ay—but not now—not at once!’ replied Cestus sharply. ‘Only, as you say, when you come back from Capreae. That is another thing altogether. It is a promise on condition with a vengeance, when there is every chance you will not be alive to perform it. Hark’ee, Tibia, I am eager for us all to go at once, for this reason, that I am anxious concerning the girl. There have been a couple of fellows from Capreae in the shop lately, for nothing in the world but to see the child herself. I saw them, heard them, watched them. What does this mean? Why, that some fine night your house may be broken into, and the girl carried off to the island by a gang of Caesar’s blackguards. Once there, you may cry for ever to get her back. Is it not time, think you, to be moving such a good-looking lass out of the reach of the tiger’s claws? Will you leave her to the chance of such a fate, for the sake of a fool’s errand, on the score of a glass bowl?’ ‘The fool’s errand shall be carried out, look you,’ inter[pg 284] ‘And that is your determination?’ ‘It is—I leave the rest to Tibia.’ ‘Then she and the girl and myself will go hence without delay.’ ‘Speak for yourself, brother,’ said Tibia, standing. ‘When I go my husband goes also.’ ‘The girl, then, I shall take alone,’ cried Cestus furiously. ‘If she will go with thee,’ said Tibia. He started up so violently that he upset his stool, and he stood, for a moment, stuttering with passion. Failing to produce an intelligible sound, he stamped his foot savagely and rushed out of the room. Masthlion gave a grim sort of a smile and went to his workshop. Ere he could shut the door, Tibia slipped silently after him. |
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