But Ausonius still remained silent. Contradictory feelings had been struggling for mastery in his soul since the Illyrian's last words. On the one hand his resentment was very vehement against the obstinate soldier who, for some incomprehensible whim, opposed the dearest wish of his heart. But even during these days of constraint Saturninus had treated him so respectfully, while he himself had been very harsh to his old friend. And he loved the gallant General so warmly! And now this touching, unfeigned solicitude for his health conquered the kind heart of Ausonius.

"Saturninus! Your affection does me good. My nephew thinks only of one disease--his own thirst! The business of the service, Tribune, is probably over; but I entreat you to stay as my guest. Let us forget what briefly estranged us, and remember our beautiful old friendship."

Saturninus quickly grasped the outstretched hand and pressed it warmly: "There your heart spoke, Ausonius! I thank you. I will stay gladly." He took his place on the third lectus, which was at the rear of the tent opposite to the entrance and at the right of the two others. "You ought to have known long ago that my sole wish is your welfare, your real happiness."

Just at that moment Davus came from the table beside the entrance, where the wine was poured, toward his master. He walked very slowly, for he carried three goblets, all filled: two small ones on a silver salver in his right hand, and the large imperial beaker in his left.

With his face turned to the entrance and his back to Saturninus, he had poured the wine from the small amphora at the table and then added spring water from the mixing-vessel.

Hercula.n.u.s hastily started up, s.n.a.t.c.hed one of the goblets from the salver and emptied it at one draught. His uncle cast a look of disapproval at him, saying, "Could you not wait for my toast?" Then he took the Emperor's goblet with the three graces. Davus carried the last cup to the Illyrian and set the silver salver on the table.

"The first draught," said Ausonius, "is usually to the n.o.ble Emperor, to whom I owe this beautiful gift. But to-day Gratia.n.u.s may wait; to-day I drink first to our friendship, my Saturninus!"

"And all that your heart most ardently desires," added the latter smiling.

Ausonius raised the goblet.

Just at that moment the curtain at the door of the tent was dragged violently back from the outside: Bissula, her face corpselike in its pallor, her hair fluttering wildly around her, and blood streaming from her bare right arm, rushed in, shrieking:

"Poison! Do not drink, Ausonius!" She fell forward headlong on the Prefect's couch.

Hercula.n.u.s sprang up with the speed of lightning, to s.n.a.t.c.h the cup from his uncle's hand and pour its contents on the ground. But, before he reached him, the Tribune, who had dropped his own goblet, clutched him with a grasp of iron. In spite of his violent struggles, Hercula.n.u.s could not move forward an inch. Davus, the old freedman running at his heels, darted toward the entrance. Prosper shouted loudly, but Davus went no farther than the door; for here he encountered the Batavian, Rignomer, who seized him by the throat and held him fast.

Ausonius, horrified and bewildered, had set the goblet on the table before him, and now raised Bissula's head. "Poison?" he asked sorrowfully. "Poison me? Who?"

"The dog of a slave, of course!" cried Hercula.n.u.s, struggling furiously in the Illyrian's hold. "Are you in league with Davus, Tribune? Why do you prevent me from punishing the scoundrel?" And now he actually succeeded in releasing his right hand and gripping the dagger in his belt.

"Don't let him go," shrieked Bissula, who had now recovered her senses.

"He is the instigator!"

Just at that moment, summoned by Prosper, who had rushed out screaming for help, two Thracians on guard before the Prefect's tent, and two Illyrians who chanced to be pa.s.sing, came in and, by the Tribune's orders, seized Hercula.n.u.s and the slave, who, pale and trembling, could scarcely stand.

Ausonius, groaning aloud, sank back on his pillows.

CHAPTER XLIII.

Saturninus, no longer occupied with his prisoner, stepped forward into the centre of the tent, saying: "In the name of the Emperor Gratia.n.u.s!

As General and Commander of this camp I open the investigation. Speak, girl! You, a slave, a captive Barbarian, are making a terrible charge against a Roman leader. Weigh your words! Death is the penalty for false accusation of such a deed."

But Bissula did not shrink. She had now recovered her strength and calmness, and gave no thought to herself; her mind was occupied solely with the old friend who lay sighing on his cushions, and who had never been so dear to her as in the helplessness of his anguish. Briefly, clearly, and simply she related the conversation between the two men, to which, in the boughs of the pine-tree, she had been an involuntary listener.

"Miserable lies," shrieked Hercula.n.u.s, stamping his foot. "The wench wants to become my uncle's wanton and ruin his nephew, the heir. The whole story is an invention,--the entire tale of hiding in the tree!

When I came in here she stood watching beside the tent."

"That is a base falsehood," said Rignomer, stepping forward. "I swear that she has just come down from the tree: I had been following her--unseen--for half an hour."

"Aha, do you hear, uncle? Another lover!" sneered Hercula.n.u.s.

"No," said the Tribune, "it was done by my order."

But Rignomer had flushed crimson with rage and shame. Shaking his clenched fist at Hercula.n.u.s, he said, laughing grimly: "Just wait--you fellow with your patched mantle. The child came down from the tree before my eyes. I was standing, hidden by the tent, six paces opposite to it. Two men came from the right and left, glided under the pine, whispered together, and then separated."

Davus grew even paler than before; he tottered and would have fallen but for the hands which grasped him. But Hercula.n.u.s asked defiantly: "Did you recognize the two men in the dark? Or, at six paces distance, understand their whispers?"

"Neither. But the child slid down the tree directly after in the most frantic terror, called 'Murder! They will poison Ausonius!' and ran with me here. The last part of the way I carried her."

"So the two Barbarians conspired against me!" cried Hercula.n.u.s.

Saturninus went up to the slave, who hung with shaking knees between the two Thracians. "You know what terrible tortures threaten the slave who tries to murder his own master?"

Davus sank to the ground; the two men could scarcely drag him up again.

"Well then! What matters your miserable body! I will secure your safety of life and limb--in the Emperor's name--you shall merely go to the lead mines, if you confess at once."

"Thank you, my lord, a thousand thanks," groaned the slave. "Yes, yes.

It is all as they say. For a year he has been tempting and urging! The demon of gold blinded me. It is all true!"

"Ha," shouted Hercula.n.u.s, struggling against his guards, "so the slave, too, is in the conspiracy against me?"

"Give the wine in the Emperor's goblet to a dog, and see how long it will live," said Davus. "It is hemlock! In my tunic--feel there--I have a small vial which contains the rest."

"I don't doubt it: poison in the goblet--the same poison in the vial.

Of course," cried Hercula.n.u.s with an angry laugh, "the slave put it into both. But Ausonius will not die until he has altered his will and disinherited his nephew; for the Barbarian girl appeared just at the right moment as a deliverer."

Meanwhile the Tribune had taken from the slave's breast a little amber vial and placed it on the table beside the goblet. Ausonius glanced at it mournfully; he seemed to recognize it.

"And what he put in there," Hercula.n.u.s went on, "is to convict me?"

"No," cried Davus, now angered, "you shall convict yourself. Tribune, feel in his tunic too; he has the same poison, in a similar vial, hidden there. Could I force him to do it? Or could I conjure it there by magic?"

Hercula.n.u.s turned pale. Defiance, the hope of life, deserted him and, gnashing his teeth, he struggled fiercely in the Illyrians' grasp. But the latter held him firmly while their countryman, Saturninus, took from his tunic a similar amber vial and placed it beside the first one.

"Then go to Orcus together! I wish you all had poison in you!" shrieked Hercula.n.u.s.

But Ausonius tore his gray locks, wailing: "Alas! alas! I know them well. I gave them myself, both vials, to my dear sister, his mother.

Alas, my own sister's son! To murder me! For miserable money! I had left it all to him. Only I should have been glad to live a few years longer."

Weeping aloud, he covered his face. Bissula, kneeling before him, stroked his hands compa.s.sionately.

"No doubt is possible," said Saturninus, "even without the confession made by his fury."

"Oh! The son of my dearest sister, my Melania!" moaned the Prefect.

"I had long suspected him," the Tribune said. "But the scoundrel did not desire to murder you alone; he wanted to kill this child too, to whom all are attached."

"What? What?" cried Ausonius. Bissula also started.

"That is why he hastened in advance of us all, alone, to her dwelling, on her track. He had raised his sword for a deadly blow when I caught his arm."