Chapter 7 ENTER, LYCIAS, THE GLADIATOR.

Lidia, the scullery maid, stole out of the back door of her master's house. Bare-foot she was and her black hair streamed out behind her as she ran swiftly through the streets of Rome. Few noticed her, for the people were still excited from the doings of the night before. Groups stood at the places where roads crossed, or in the shadows of the columns and discussed what had occurred. When such important matters as the arrest of a few hundreds of Christians were concerned, the little maid with frightened eyes and ragged clothes was not of any moment.

"It is the priests who stirred up this trouble," said one man looking up at the grim grayish-white walls of Jupiter's temple. "I am no follower of Christus, but I employed a man who was, and he was ever industrious and sober. They are not such a bad lot. It is a pity-"

"Whist!" exclaimed another man. "Speak not so loud. Even the walls of yonder temple have ears. They say that there are speaking tubes hidden in every room so that the Superior may know just what goes on. I'll tell you the one thing, my friend, if the priests are in it there's gold somewhere. They don't do things for nothing."

"That they do not. Didst hear that the splendid villa of Octavia, widow of Aureus Cantus, the Senator, was raided by a mob last night? The freedmen are scattered or seized again as slaves and the family, the lady and two children have entirely disappeared. Her home and all its treasures have already been confiscated, as belonging to a traitor and I'll venture that the priests in yonder get a good share of the wealth."

"She was an honorable woman. It is a shame."

"Shame, yes, but it pleases the people and gratifies the priests, two things very essential to him who sits upon the throne."

"Dost think-"

"Aye, I think much that I do not say. Hundreds of Christians have been herded into the prisons, the uprising of the multitude yesterday was but part of the game. It was all planned. They say, too, that a dark man, with great gold rings in his ears and a scar on his face, has been tracking these Christians for weeks. No doubt he was an emissary of the priests."

"I have seen him myself. There he goes, now."

Alyrus walked through the crowd like a king, as if he expected them to bow before him.

"I've seen him before," said the first man. "Where was it? I remember now. It was he who sat in the ante-chamber of Aurelius Lucanus' office. He is his slave."

"And is the honorable lawyer mixed up in this business?"

"Who knows? One thing is certain. The people will be amused and forget the cruelties of the Emperor, for there will be a grand show in the amphitheatre, far grander than any gladiatorial show."

"Thou meanest-"

"That these Christians must be disposed of, or they will rebel. The lions are even now growling in the underground cages."

Lidia sped on, though her feet grew very weary before she reached the cave where Lucius dwelt. He was standing in front of it, blowing into a flame some charcoal in a small iron brazier. She approached him unseen. He looked up, startled when he heard her calling him.

"Ah, Lidia, is it thou? Hast come to have supper with thy father? Thou art welcome. There is a tender kid roasted and I have gathered some fresh greens in the field. I will make thee a salad."

"Please do, dear father. I am very weary and have tasted no food since morning."

Sitting down on the grass, they gave thanks and ate. The shepherd gave her a large plantain leaf for a plate. Their food was such as Jacob ate in days of old, long before Rome was built.

"Thou art very weary, my child."

"And heart-sick. Thou hast not been in the city for two days."

"No. The rains have been so heavy that the sprinkling from my sheepskin bag was not needed. So I stayed here to care for the herds."

"Then thou dost not know what has happened. Father, my master and the Lady Claudia are in deep distress. Martius and the Lady Virgilia went to visit the widow of Cantus outside the gate, on the day when the Feast of the Grapes was celebrated. They have never returned. Nor has Alyrus, who was sent on an errand by Aurelius that afternoon, nor Alexis, the Greek. Not one has come back to tell of their fate. This morning, Sahira, my Lady Claudia's waiting-maid disappeared and the mistress lies there moaning and crying. It is pitiful. Everyone is in disorder of spirit. I, even though I am but a scullery-maid, did creep into my Lady's room and put cold cloths on her head and fanned her face. No one else thought of her. The servants go here and there, without a head; the whole house is in confusion. Some of the slaves have already run away. It is rumored, father, that many Christians have been arrested. No doubt Martius and Virgilia are among them."

"But thou?"

"I am safe. Who cares for so humble a person as I? The Old One is very ill. I think she is going to die. No one cares for her but me. But I am safe. No one notices me, for I am little and ugly, thank God. I soothe the Old One, who moans and cries: 'Woe. Woe! to this household,' I must go back now. It is but four and twenty hours, father, since the home of Aurelius was full of joy and gladness. Now it is desolate."

The shepherd rose and picked up his staff.

"Lidia, it is Alyrus who has wrought all this. He and the priests of Jupiter. I will seek out Lycias, the gladiator. He will know what to do."

A warm red shone in Lidia's thin, sallow cheeks.

"Thou wilt greet him from me, father?"

He nodded, and walked rapidly away, while Lidia, taking another path, ran toward the gates of Rome. Inside the walls, she almost collided with Alyrus, the Moor, who strode by not recognizing her. Slipping along in the shadows, she followed him eagerly, as intently as her father would have done, through the streets, into the Forum to the Temple of Jupiter, and saw him enter the side door.

Then she hastened back to her duties, going into the house which was very still and deserted. Only a few of the many slaves owned by Aurelius the lawyer, remained to guard his interests. When the displeasure of an emperor falls on a man, it means disaster.

She looked in at her mistress' door and found her sleeping, moaning as she slept. She went to the servant's quarters. On her humble couch lay the Old One, who had been a Princess in the court of Herod sixty years before, beautiful, admired. Her face was very quiet and the expression was sweet. Death had touched her lightly when he bore her into the presence of the Lord whom she had loved. The finished rug which she had made for Virgilia's wedding present lay under the scarlet and white awning on the Terrace.

Alyrus had come into his reward. He was free, and Sahira his daughter was free, a purse of gold was in his hand and a ship lay waiting in the harbor, to carry them away to their home by the desert.

Alyrus was not ready to go, yet. He wanted first to see all the amusement which there would be in Rome. He could not miss the climax of what he had intrigued for. He knew nothing of that Judas who had sold his Lord for thirty pieces of silver, or he might have likened himself to this traitor.

No, he would not leave until the games were over. The scheme had worked well. There had not been the slightest hitch from the moment that they left the gate of Octavia's villa, until the bearers, who were in the plot, carried Virgilia into the Temple of Jupiter, and Martius and Alexis, little noticed in the unusual excitement stirred up by the priests, were easily overpowered and cast into one of the lowest dungeons.

Yes, it had been most successful. Alyrus returned to the temple now to see Sahira who was in charge of the holy women and sallied forth again to sit in one of the shops and drink a glass of grape juice. He was a thoroughly temperate man, knowing that wine muddles the brain and perverts the judgment.

It was now late in the evening. Proclamations were already on the walls announcing that on the fourth day, there would be grand games in the Circus. Gladiatorial contests would be the first thing on the program, followed by the lions and Christians. The learned ones were reading this notice aloud to the ignorant and the women, and all seemed to be much pleased.

Alyrus sat down and ordered his cup of fresh grape juice, with snow from Mt. Hermon to cool it in. As he sipped it, he saw the great gladiator, Lycias, come into the circle of light from the flaring torches, but he did not perceive the shepherd, who remained outside, in the shadow.

Now, Lycias was a great man in the eyes of the Romans. He had been a poor boy, but by reason of his strength had risen to be the first gladiator. He and Lidia the kitchen-maid, had grown up together in the cave of Lucius, for Lycias had been found, a tiny baby, lying at the door of the sheepfold. For the love and care bestowed upon him, Lycias had always been grateful.

Therefore, at the request of Lucius, was he here.

At the entrance of the famous gladiator, a shout arose from the men seated at the small tables.

"Hail, Lycias! Hail, Lycias!" came from every side.

The tall man bowed to one friend and then another, smiled and walked through the room, seeking a place to sit. With a smile, he declined proffered seats with groups of men, and finally took a place near Alyrus, the Moor.

"If it does not inconvenience you," he said.

"Not in the least," replied Alyrus, flattered at the attention thus drawn to him.

The gladiator laid aside his silver helmet, unloosed his short sword and ordered light refreshment from the proprietor who came himself to serve so noted a guest.

Had some great philosopher entered, he would have been greeted with respect but would not have aroused anything like so much interest or enthusiasm as did the victorious gladiator. Even the boys in the streets knew his name and tried to imitate him.

For some time, while he had satisfied a very hearty appetite, Lycias did not open a conversation, and Alyrus, a little awed, had hesitated to speak.

Apparently for the first time, the gladiator examined the Moor's face.

Springing to his feet, he saluted in a military fashion.

"Your pardon, my lord, I knew not that I had ventured to presume upon the kindness of Claudius Auranus, governor of Carthage."

Alyrus stammered.

"Be seated, sir, I-I am not his excellency the governor of Carthage.

I am a much humbler man, a chieftain of Tripoli."

"Ah! I knew that you were some distinguished person, from your bearing and dress."

When Alyrus smiled, he was uglier than ever.

"A brute!" muttered Lycias, under his breath. Then aloud: "Are you on some mission to the Emperor?"

"Ahem. Not so. But very high in the secrets of the chief priest of

Jupiter."

"One might call him the power behind the throne."

"Thou hast said truly."

"And it is really true that thou art admitted to those holy precincts?"

"Behold!" Alyrus drew from the folds of his garment the bronze lizard.

"Not only does this admit me to the temple itself but to any place in

the city of Rome. Thou seest. It is the symbol of the priests of

Jupiter."

"I see," Lycias' eyes gleamed, as he watched Alyrus placing the precious symbol in a safe place.

Then, Alyrus, intoxicated by the events of the past few moments, by his sudden transition from slavery to freedom, at the prospect opening before him of a speedy return to the home he loved, flattered at the homage shown him by the gladiator, poured out the whole story into ears only too willing to hear. He narrated everything except that he had been a slave, representing himself as a client of Aurelius Lucanus, who had been grievously wronged by him. He told how he had discovered, one day in the public Forum, that the son and daughter of the lawyer were Christians, and Aurelius sympathized with them; how, by the chief priest's desire, he had assisted in tracking many more of the despised sect, of whom several hundred were now languishing in prison, among them, Octavia the widow of the proud Senator Aureus Cantus, and her son and daughter.

Lycias passed his big hand over his smoothly shaven face to hide his expression of disgust. He rose.

"If you permit, honored sir, I will now retire, with the hope that we shall meet again."

"Willingly will I continue the conversation. Perhaps-" Alyrus was swelling with importance, "it would interest you to visit the prisons and see these Christians before they are thrown into the arena. I understand that you are first on the program."

"Yes. I had thought of asking such a privilege as a visit to these prisoners. By the way, where is the daughter of Aurelius?"

Alyrus shot a keen glance at him, but the face of Lycias was guileless as that of a child.

"She is well guarded. I can tell you that, and her brother Martius, with Alexis the Greek slave-who ever looked down upon me," he added, unguardedly, continuing in haste, as he perceived his mistake, "I should have said, who was impertinent to me one day, lie in a dungeon far in the earth below the temple. From there, is a private underground passageway to the Circus. They will never see the light of day again."

"A faithless friend, a bitter enemy," was Lycias' thought as striding forth from the room, he joined Lucius.

"It is worse than I feared," Lucius said. "There is little hope."

"We shall see," responded the gladiator, thoughtfully. "Art thou willing to take great risks to save the son and daughter of Aurelius?"

"For the sake of Lidia, who loves them, I am."

"Await my instructions, then," and they parted.

The next afternoon, Alyrus let Lycias through the dark prisons in which the Christians were herded like beasts. The guards opened every door at the sight of the symbol of priestly authority, the bronze lizard.

Lycias, brave and strong man, grew sick at the dreadful suffering of delicate women, frail young girls accustomed to luxury, who were so suddenly thrown into surroundings and as they had never dreamed of.

All because of their faith? Lycias began to wonder what the power was which enabled these feeble creatures to face death with calmness and courage.

"There must be something in this religion of Jesus Christ which makes them forget themselves," he thought. "I will ask Lidia to tell me the secret."

In one corner of a dark, damp cell, several persons were kneeling in prayer. The voice of an old man could be heard, petitioning God, for Christ's sake, to lead them through this valley of the shadow of death and bring them to the holy city in its beauty and into the presence of their Lord and Master.

"There, that is Virgilia, the fair one, yonder, with face upraised," said Alyrus.

Lycias took a long look at the young girl, so that he would know her again.

"Next to her is Hermione, and Octavia, widow of Aureus Cantus and her son. All three are there!"

The laugh of the Moor was hideous in its coarseness. The young girls shivered and drew closer to Octavia.

"Fear not," Octavia whispered, smiling at them. God had given her great courage.

It was on this day that Alyrus, growing more confidential, told Lycias of the vessel lying in the River Tiber, ready to set sail as soon as he and Sahira went on board.

"I have only to show them the symbol," he quoted, "and the sailors and officers are subject to my orders."

That evening, the gladiator went to the cave, and finding Lidia with her father, ate the supper of coarse bread and goat's cheese with them.

"Thou art accounted of much wisdom," he said to Lidia, "thy little head hath been ever steady on thy shoulders. Tell us what to do."

"I am only a kitchen-maid," Lidia replied, blushing at the compliment, "but I should think that we might do thus."

And a plan was made to their satisfaction, a very difficult plan involving great danger for all of them, perhaps death to Lycias and Lucius. It hung to a large degree on one thing which seemed to be unattainable.

"With God, all things are possible," said wise little Lidia.

"Let us pray," said the shepherd, and he and Lidia fell upon their knees on the grass in front of the cave, where even now in late Autumn, some tiny pink-tipped daisies were blooming.

After a moment's hesitation, Lycias, who had never knelt to any but heathen gods, bent his knee also and uncovered his head in the presence of the unseen but powerful Ruler of the Universe.

He and Lidia walked back to Rome together.

As they parted, the big gladiator looked down into her earnest little face, with the clear, honest eyes.

"I should like to learn about Christ," he said.

"I will teach thee, Lycias, though I am but a weak follower of my

Master."

The next day, the one before the games were to take place in the

Circus, two things happened.

Alyrus, met again by Lycias, took him to the marble quarry by the

Tiber, where, on the slowly flowing river, were moored great ships.

There was a veritable forest of masts, cut from the strong cedars of

Lebanon, and the groves of Mt. Hermon.

"That is my ship, yonder," he said. As they emerged from the wharf, Alyrus was suddenly jostled by a rough-looking shepherd. Lycias caught the Moor in his arms to prevent his falling. The draperies Alyrus wore were disarranged and a small object fell, unnoticed by him, to the ground. Lycias placed his big, sandaled foot over this object.

"Dog of a shepherd!" raved Alyrus, running after the man.

Lycias stooped, picked up the small object and thrust it into his gown and soon reached the Moor by a few long strides.

"Let him go!" he advised. "See, he is already almost out of sight."