Quo Vadis by Henryk Sienkiewicz (detective books to read .TXT) 📖

and trembling from alarm. Many approached to kiss Peter’s hands,

and the hem of his mantle; mothers held out their children to him; some

knelt in the dark, long passage, and, holding up tapers, begged a

blessing; others, going alongside, sang: so there was no chance for

question or answer. Thus it was in the narrow passage. Only when they

came out to broader spaces, from which the burning city was in view, did

the Apostle bless them three times, and say, turning to Vinicius,—

 

“Fear not. The hut of the quarryman is near; in it we shall find Linus,

and Lygia, with her faithful servant. Christ, who predestined her to

thee, has preserved her.”

 

Vinicius tottered, and placed his hand against the cliff. The road from

Antium, the events at the wall, the search for Lygia amidst burning

houses, sleeplessness, and his terrible alarm had exhausted him; and the

news that the dearest person in the world was near by, and that soon he

would see her, took the remnant of his strength from him. So great a

weakness possessed him on a sudden that he dropped to the Apostle’s

feet, and, embracing his knees, remained thus, without power to say a

word.

 

“Not to me, not to me, but to Christ,” said the Apostle, who warded off

thanks and honor.

 

“What a good God!” said the voice of Chilo from behind, “but what shall

I do with the mules that are waiting down here?”

 

“Rise and come with me,” said Peter to the young man.

 

Vinicius rose. By the light of the burning, tears were visible on his

face, which was pale from emotion. His lips moved, as if in prayer.

 

“Let us go,” said he.

 

But Chilo repeated again: “Lord, what shall I do with the mules that are

waiting? Perhaps this worthy prophet prefers riding to walking.”

 

Vinicius did not know himself what to answer; but hearing from Peter

that the quarryman’s hut was near by, he said,—

 

“Take the mules to Macrinus.”

 

“Pardon me, lord, if I mention the house in Ameriola. In view of such

an awful fire, it is easy to forget a thing so paltry.”

 

“Thou wilt get it.”

 

“O grandson of Numa Pompilius, I have always been sure, but now, when

this magnanimous prophet also has heard the promise, I will not remind

thee even of this, that thou hast promised me a vineyard. Pax vobiscum.

I shall find thee, lord. Pax vobiscum.”

 

They answered, “And peace with thee.”

 

Then both turned to the right toward the hills. Along the road Vinicius

said,

 

“Lord, wash me with the water of baptism, so that I may call myself a

real confessor of Christ, for I love Him with all the power of my soul.

Wash me quickly, for I am ready in heart. And what thou commandest I

will do, but tell me, so that I may do it in addition.”

 

“Love men as thy own brothers,” answered the Apostle, “for only with

love mayst thou serve Him.”

 

“Yes, I understand and feel that. When a child I believed in the Roman

gods, though I did not love them. But I so love Him the One God that I

would give my life for Him gladly.” And he looked toward the sky,

repeating with exaltation: “For He is one, for He alone is kind and

merciful; hence, let not only this city perish, but the whole world, Him

alone will I confess and recognize.”

 

“And He will bless thee and thy house,” concluded the Apostle.

 

Meanwhile they turned into another ravine, at the end of which a faint

light was visible. Peter pointed to it and said,—

 

“There is the hut of the quarryman who gave us a refuge when, on the way

from Ostrianum with the sick Linus, we could not go to the Trans-Tiber.”

 

After a while they arrived. The hut was rather a cave rounded Out in an

indentation of the hill, and was faced outside with a wall made of

reeds. The door was closed, but through an opening, which served for a

window, the interior was visible, lighted by a fire. Some dark giant

figure rose up to meet them, and inquired,—“Who are ye?”

 

“Servants of Christ,” answered Peter. “Peace be with thee, Ursus.”

 

Ursus bent to the Apostle’s feet; then, recognizing Vinicius, seized his

hand by the wrist, and raised it to his lips.

 

“And thou, lord,” said he. “Blessed be the name of the Lamb, for the

joy which thou wilt bring to Callina.”

 

He opened the door then, and entered. Linus was lying on a bundle of

straw, with an emaciated face and a forehead as yellow as ivory. Near

the fire sat Lygia with a string of small fish, intended evidently for

supper. Occupied in removing the fish from the string, and thinking

that it was Ursus who had entered, she did not raise her eyes. But

Vinicius approached, and, pronouncing her name, stretched his hand to

her. She sprang up quickly then; a flash of astonishment and delight

shot across her face. Without a word, like a child who after days of

fear and sorrow had found father or mother, she threw herself into his

open arms.

 

He embraced her, pressed her to his bosom for some time with such

ecstasy as if she had been saved by a miracle. Then, withdrawing his

arms, he took her temples between his hands, kissed her forehead and her

eyes, embraced her again, repeated her name, bent to her knees, to her

palms, greeted her, did her homage, honored her. His delight had no

bounds; neither had his love and happiness.

 

At last he told her how he had rushed in from Antium; had searched for

her at the walls, in the smoke at the house of Linus; how he had

suffered and was terrified; how much he had endured before the Apostle

had shown him her retreat.

 

“But now,” said he, “that I have found thee, I will not leave thee near

fire and raging crowds. People are slaying one another under the walls,

slaves are revolting and plundering. God alone knows what miseries may

fall yet on Rome. But I will save thee and all of you. Oh, my dear,

let us go to Antium; we will take a ship there and sail to Sicily. My

land is thy land, my houses are thy houses. Listen to me! In Sicily we

shall find Aulus. I will give thee back to Pomponia, and take thee from

her hands afterward. But, O carissima, have no further fear of me.

Christ has not washed me yet, but ask Peter if on the way hither I have

not told him my wish to be a real confessor of Christ, and begged him to

baptize me, even in this hut of a quarryman. Believe, and let all

believe me.”

 

Lygia heard these words with radiant face. The Christians formerly,

because of Jewish persecutions, and then because of the fire and

disturbance caused by the disaster, lived in fear and uncertainty. A

journey to quiet Sicily would put an end to all danger, and open a new

epoch of happiness in their lives. If Vinicius had wished to take only

Lygia, she would have resisted the temptation surely, as she did not

wish to leave Peter and Linus; but Vinicius said to them, “Come with me;

my lands are your lands, my houses your houses.” At this Lygia inclined

to kiss his hand, in sign of obedience, and said,—

 

“Where thou art, Caius, there am I, Caia.”

 

Then confused that she had spoken words which by Roman custom were

repeated only at marriage, she blushed deeply, and stood in the light of

the fire, with drooping head, in doubt lest he might take them ill of

her. But in his face boundless homage alone was depicted. He turned

then to Peter, and continued,—

 

“Rome is burning at command of Cæsar. In Antium he complained that he

had never seen a great fire. And if he has not hesitated at such a

crime, think what may happen yet. Who knows that he may not bring in

troops, and command a slaughter? Who knows what proscriptions may come;

who knows whether after the fire, civil war, murder, and famine may not

come?

 

“Hide yourselves, therefore, and let us hide Lygia. There ye can wait

till the storm passes, and when it is over return to sow your grain

anew.”

 

Outside, from the direction of the Vatican Field, as if to confirm his

fears, distant cries were heard full of rage and terror. At that moment

the quarryman entered, the master of the hut, and, shutting the door

hastily, he cried,—

 

“People are killing one another near the Circus of Nero. Slaves and

gladiators have attacked the citizens.”

 

“Do ye hear?” said Vinicius.

 

“The measure is full,” said the Apostle; “and disasters will come, like

a boundless sea.” Then he turned, and, pointing to Lygia, said, “Take

the maiden, whom God has predestined to thee, and save her, and let

Linus, who is sick, and Ursus go with you.”

 

But Vinicius, who had come to love the Apostle with all the power of his

impetuous soul, exclaimed: “I swear, my teacher, that I will not leave

thee here to destruction.”

 

“The Lord bless thee for thy wish,” answered Peter; “but hast thou not

heard that Christ repeated thrice on the lake to me, ‘Feed my lambs’?”

 

Vinicius was silent.

 

“If thou, to whom no one has confided care over me, sayest that thou

wilt not leave me to destruction, how canst thou wish me to leave my

flock in the day of disaster? When there was a storm on the lake, and

we were terrified in heart, He did not desert us; why should I, a

servant, not follow my Master’s example?”

 

Then Linus raised his emaciated face and inquired,—

 

“O viceregent of the Lord, why should I not follow thy example?”

 

Vinicius began to pass his hand over his head, as if struggling with

himself or fighting with his thoughts; then, seizing Lygia by the hand,

he said, in a voice in which the energy of a Roman soldier was

quivering,—

 

“Hear me, Peter, Linus, and thou, Lygia! I spoke as my human reason

dictated; but ye have another reason, which regards, not your own

danger, but the commands of the Redeemer. True, I did not understand

this, and I erred, for the beam is not taken from my eyes yet, and the

former nature is heard in me. But since I love Christ, and wish to be

His servant, though it is a question for me of something more than my

own life, I kneel here before thee, and swear that I will accomplish the

command of love, and will not leave my brethren in the day of trouble.”

 

Then he knelt, and enthusiasm possessed him; raising his hands and eyes,

he cried: “Do I understand Thee, O Christ? Am I worthy of Thee?”

 

His hands trembled; his eyes glistened with tears; his body trembled

with faith and love. Peter took an earthen vessel with water, and,

bringing it near him, said with solemnity,—

 

“Behold, I baptize thee in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Amen.”

 

Then a religious ecstasy seized all present. They thought that some

light from beyond this world had filled the hut, that they heard some

superhuman music, that the cliffs had opened above their heads, that

choirs of angels were floating down from heaven, and far up there they

saw a cross, and pierced hands blessing them.

 

Meanwhile the shouts of