The Count of the Saxon Shore; or The Villa in Vectis.<br />A Tale of the Departure of the Romans fro, Church and Putnam [summer beach reads TXT] 📗

make the matter one whit better. Such tools are often more mischievous than men who are actively wicked. What then was he to do? Should he join the usurper Constantine, of whose astonishing success in Gaul and Spain he had heard the most glowing reports? His pride forbad it—an Ælius doing homage to a man who but twelve months before had been a private soldier! The thought was impossible. Should he retire into private life? But would not that be to shirk his duty, not to mention the fact that to retire is the one thing which in troubled times a man in a conspicuous position cannot do. One thing, indeed, was evident—that a decision would have to be made speedily. His position was rapidly becoming untenable, and he would have to make up his mind, without much delay, as to the best way of getting out of it. In the end [pg 247]it happened to him as it happens to so many of us, that his mind was made up for him.

One day, towards the end of August, he was about to seek in a day’s sport a little relief from his many cares. It was still about four hours to noon, and he was sitting under a cherry tree (one of his own planting) in the villa garden, and sharing a slight meal of milk and wheaten cakes with his daughter and Carna, both of whom he had persuaded to accompany him. A young Briton stood by holding in a leash a couple of dogs very much like the greyhounds of our own times; another carried a bow and a quiver; a third had a game bag of leather, with a netted front, slung across his shoulders.

The sailing-master of one of the galleys approached and saluted.

“There is a galley,” he said, “coming up the Haven, and I thought that you should know at once, since it seems to have something of importance on board.”

“What makes you think so?” said the Count.

“I have been watching it for the last hour,” said the man. “At first I thought it was a little trading vessel; but I noticed that as soon as it entered the Haven it hoisted the Labarum.”53

“The Labarum!” exclaimed the Count; “I have [pg 248]not seen that flying from any mast but my own for a year past. Well, that ought to mean something.”

It was the etiquette to go as far as was possible to meet an Imperial messenger, just as a host receives a very distinguished guest on his door-step, and the Count, after hastily exchanging his hunting-dress for a toga, went to the little pier at which the galley would land its passenger. He had not to wait many minutes before it arrived, and a handsome young man, with a short military cloak over his traveller’s dress, leapt lightly ashore. The Count saluted. The stranger, who was for a time the representative of the Emperor, received the greeting with the dignified gesture of a superior.

“Do I address Lucius Ælius, Count of the Saxon Shore?” he asked.

“I am he,” the Count briefly replied.

“I bring the commands of Augustus,” said the messenger, producing from a pocket in his tunic a vellum roll, bound with a broad purple cord, and bearing the Imperial seal.

The Count received the missive with a profound inclination, and put it to his lips. At the same time the messenger uncovered, and changed his haughty demeanour for the behaviour usual to a young officer in the presence of his superior.

“It will be more respectful and more convenient to read his Majesty’s gracious communication in [pg 249]private. Will you please come with me to my house?”

He led the way to the villa, and introduced the visitor into the little room which he used for the transaction of business. He then cut with his dagger the purple cord which fastened the package containing the despatch, and, after again putting the document to his lips, proceeded to read it. Its contents were seemingly not agreeable, for his face darkened as he went on. He made no remark, however, beyond simply asking the messenger—

“May I presume that you have a general acquaintance with the contents of this document?”

“I have,” replied the young man.

“Then you will know that the answer is not one which can be given in a moment. But,” and he went on with a rapid change of voice and manner, “cras seria.54 I was just on the point of going out for a few hours’ hunting when your arrival was announced. Will you come with me? I have nothing very great to show you, though we have some big game here too, if we had time to look for it, but if you will condescend to anything so small as hare-hunting, I can show you some sport.”

The Imperial messenger was an Italian of the north of the Peninsula, who had been fond of fol[pg 250]lowing the chase on the slopes of the Apennines before chance had made him a courtier. He accepted the invitation with pleasure, and the party made the best of their way to the high ground now known as Arreton Downs.

“Ah!” said the Count, as he pointed northward to where the great Anderida Forest55 might be seen stretching far beyond the range of sight, “there is the place for sport; a wilder country I have never seen, no, nor finer game. There are wild boars of which I have never seen the like in Italy, no, nor in the Hercynian Wood56 itself,