Índice Geral das Seções Índice da Seção Atual Índice da Obra Atual Anterior: V - Perdidos e Salvos Seguinte: Vll - O Julgamento e suas Consequências
CAPÍTULO VI
UMA VISITA MATINAL
“The wicked plotteth against the just.” – Ps. XXXVII, 12.
IT was a dull unpromising morning, and dark rainy clouds
drifted in heavy masses across the heavens, obscuring the bright hues of the
distant sunrise, and overshadowing the surrounding landscape.
Below the city of the seven hills lay sleeping in
majestic grandeur, her streets silent and desolate, and her temples and palaces
yet dipped in the dusky shadows of twilight, now gradually vanishing before the
awakening dawn.
Now and then the faint rays of the ascending orb struggled determinately
through the thickening clouds, and shone in broken and fitful gleams into the
rooms of the houses facing the east.
In one of these Lysias was
seated, not as
(p.
52)
before accompanied by Secundus, but alone, with only his own reflections to bear
him company. And that these were not of a pleasant nature was very evident from
his dissatisfied countenance, and the moody vacant expression with which be
regarded everything around him.
It was the third day after the occurrences related in the last chapter, and the
thoughts of Lysias very naturally reverted to them,
and the ill success which had attended his expedition to the caves.
Presently the curtain at the doorway of the apartment was pushed slowly aside,
and Cornelius with his usual theatrical stateliness entered, and crossing the
room, seated himself condescendingly opposite Lysias,
the latter taking no notice whatever of his arrival. So they sat some minutes,
Cornelius contemplating with the air of a superior being the dejected features
of his silent companion, who in return stared vacantly at him without moving.
“Well,” said the former at last, “you seem to be in bad spirits this morning,
what is the matter with you?”
“What, are you here?” said Lysias, coolly, without
changing his position, “I didn’t see you.”
“In that case your sight must be as bad as your spirits, for you have been
looking at me
(p.
53)
for the last five
minutes’ replied the other, smiling incredulously.
“Well then” said Lysias abruptly, “and what brings you
here at this time of the morning?”
“Why,” replied the other, “having risen earlier than usual today I took a stroll
through the streets to enjoy the fresh air, and lighting on your house, I came
in to rest myself. Pray, are you not glad to see me?”
“No,” returned the other, gruffly, “I wish, with all my heart, you bad stayed at
home. If you’ve come here for refreshment I’ve none to give you; if you’ve come
for news, I’ve none of that either; if you’ve come for rest, you’ll find the
benches very hard.”
The speaker folded his arms, and looked steadily at Cornelius, who with a slight
smile replied, “You are very abrupt this morning, Lysias,
what ails you? You’ve not had your sleep out last night, or perhaps you have met
with ill luck; that’s it, eh?”
“It’s nothing that concerns you,” said Lysias
sharply.
“Now come, don’t be angry, my good friend,” said the other graciously, “I can
guess what vexes you. Something has gone wrong in your search after the lady
Beatrice, eh, Lysias? What is it, my dear friend?”
“I thought you didn’t interest yourself in
(p.
54)
such matters,” said the
other shortly, and without looking at Cornelius.
“Come now, Lysias, don’t be so sharp, I want to know
what perplexes you.”
Lysias was silent some minutes, and at last answered, still
carefully avoiding his companion’s glance, “If I tell you, Cornelius, you must
promise to abstain from informing your confidential friends of my adventures, my
words must not be repeated. You understand me?”
Cornelius answered by an acquiescent nod, which the other observing, thus
continued, “Secundus and I went the other day to
search for the lady Beatrice in the caves you told me of.”
“What!” exclaimed Cornelius in astonishment, “you two alone, and in those caves
among those dreadful Christians?”
“Well,” said the other rather impatiently, “we found out the place, and went in,
and as soon as we discovered the lady Beatrice, Secundus
set off to the prefect’s, and brought back thence four men. These went with him
into the cave to arrest the girl, while I kept watch outside. But,” said Lysias, looking slyly out of
the corner of his eyes at Cornelius, and speaking with malicious distinctness,
“though I saw Secundus safely inside the cave, he never came out of it again!”
“Great gods” cried Cornelius, starting up
(p.
55)
from his seat, and
forgetting his dignity in his horror, “and what became of him then?”
“I don’t know’ replied Lysias coolly, “I’ve not seen
him since.”
“And the men who went with him?” asked Cornelius in hasty tones, “what of them?”
“Patience, my friend, I was about to tell you. They returned to me safely,
bringing with them a prisoner, though not the one I wished to see.”
“A prisoner, a Christian!” exclaimed the other, “and what has been done with
him?”
“The captive is a woman, my friend” said Lysias, “and
a very young one too; hardly eighteen I
should say. She seems poor, if one may judge from her dress, and is a frightened
timid creature, without a word to say for herself. I
didn’t question her, for to speak the truth I was too much disgusted with the
miserable result of the morning’s work. Only fancy my plodding down there for
nothing, and worse than nothing, for I lost Secundus
and my time as well in the transaction. I tried to persuade the men to let the
terrified girl go again, since she was not the object of their search, but they
said,’ that so far as they were concerned one Christian was as good as another
therefore I let them take her away with them. And now’ continued he with an
oath, “I suppose l had better attend the court
(p.
56)
today, for the poor girl is to be tried there on a charge of
Christianity, and I may perhaps bear from her where the lady Beatrice is at
present concealed, for I have already had an interview with the prefect, and
have begged him to question her as much on the subject as possible; so that
after all she may prove of service to me although her actual arrest brings me
nothing.”
“Lysias,” said Cornelius, leaning forward, and speaking with
grave importance, “have I not repeatedly told you that whoever meddled with
these Christians, was sure to get the worst of it? You
have now proved the truth of my words. You had the madness to visit their caves,
and from your own account, Secundus
had hardly entered them, before he mysteriously disappeared. For my part, I make
no doubt that be, being obnoxious to the Christians, was either transformed by
them into some reptile or insect, or else deprived of his senses by their
horrible sorceries, and suddenly transported to the end
of the earth, or perhaps underneath it. That his strange disappearance is owing
to their machinations, I have not the slightest doubt, and I seriously advise
you to give up all further search
after this woman, or you will come to some great misfortune. And now,” he added
rising majestically from his seat, “I must return home,
(p.
57)
and leave you to reflect
on what I have just said. Best assured that I shall repeat to no one what you
have communicated to me’
Cornelius then bade Lysias farewell with his usual
condescension and quitted the room. Lysias watched his
departure with a contemptuous grin, and after sitting a few minutes in silence,
rose with an oath, and walked to the window.
During the preceding conversation, the and had risen
higher and higher in the heavens, his bright beams gradually dispersing the
thick clouds, and driving them before like a vanquished army. The morning fogs,
rolled heavily up from the surrounding plains and valleys, rose into the fresh
air like tall columns of smoke, and floated majestically away into the hazy
distance.
Life had begun everywhere around; the busy hum
“Of moving wheels and multitudes astir,
And all that in a city murmur swells,”
fell confusedly on the
ears of Lysias, as he lounged lazily out at the open
window of his ill furnished apartment. His thoughts were divided between
disappointment at the ill success of his late expedition, and perplexity at the
unaccountable disappearance of Secundus. His vexation
at this last misfortune was owing,
(p.
58)
not to his solicitude
for the young man’s safety, but from consideration of his own interest, for
Lysias worked and cared only for himself.
Ah, how much sin, how much iniquity would be avoided, did we only strive to
remember others and to forget ourselves. The love of self has caused the ruin of
thousands, for those who yield to this despicable sin sacrifice others to effect
their own aggrandisement, their own exaltation! How
foolish are they who seek to promote their own comfort by making it their sole
study! They lose the very object of their desires, and invariably render
themselves restless and unhappy.
Lysias was not wantonly cruel, he was only selfish; yet his
crimes were as great and as awful as those of a professed murderer, for he
hesitated not to ruin or destroy others if by so doing he could enrich himself.
Had Beatrice been poor she would have been free from his molestations, but
because she was wealthy and he her nearest relative this avaricious man sought
in every way to work her destruction, and fearing in the search to expose
himself to danger, meanly employed Secundus to be, as
the good deacon Cyriacus observed, “his tool” and
drudge in the difficult undertaking, intending that the young man should
accomplish the perilous task of which himself was to reap the gain.
Happily,
Secundus was saved, as we have
(p.
59)
seen, alike from the
dangers of the scheme and the crimes in which it would have involved him; the
very project which but for the mercy of GOD might have led his soul into torments becoming the
means of his salvation.
Perhaps much of the selfish spirit of Lysias was owing
to his paganism, for although he paid little attention to any religion, yet the
prevailing creed of the empire was not calculated either to restrain his
iniquitous avarice or to purify his motives, since it sanctioned the persecution
of the Christians, and applauded the murderous zeal of its professors in the
work of destruction; seldom inquiring into the reasons which prompted them to
it, or questioning the character either of the persecutor or his victim.
Christianity is especially opposed to selfishness, its
sublime teaching is all directed to the abasement of self, and the love of
others. How little did our Divine Master consider Himself! His whole life was
one of humility and self sacrifice! He gave Himself for us, suffering the most bitter pains of body and soul to redeem and to save us!
There is nowhere to be found in the character of JESUS one particle of selfishness. He lived, taught,
suffered out of pure love to others, an example to all His followers hereafter.
Alas, and who can hope to obtain such
(p.
60)
a perfect victory over self as did the
LORD of glory? Who can hope for such a spirit as His? Who will lead such
another life as His? Yet we are told that “if any man have not the Spirit of CHRIST he is none of His” (
Selfishness is peculiarly the sin of man, perhaps because he is accustomed to
supremacy and sway over the weaker sex, and is taught to expect from them
submission and obedience, while woman on the contrary is usually prone to
consider others before herself; a merciful arrangement of character, since GOD
has allotted to her greater trials and keener sufferings than to man,
constituting her his protector and helpmate. It is her’s
to soothe him in trouble and sorrow, forgetful of her own share of grief, her’s to nurse and attend him in sickness, and her’s to lead him aright, and to cheer him when the
unexpected blow of misfortune suddenly prostrates his spirit. She must also be
ready and willing to give up to him in everything, to resign her will to his,
and not unfrequently to make very bitter sacrifices
for his sake.
Of such trials as these man knows nothing; not that he
is free from vexations and sorrows, but that his are of a different kind. He
suffers from more formidable and overwhelming afflictions, and is ignorant of
the daily annoyances
(p.
61)
incident to a woman. Thus it happens that we so seldom find the female character
properly appreciated by the opposite sex. Because men cannot understand a
woman’s trials, they cannot understand the amount of courage required to meet
them, and are therefore apt to imagine that she leads an easier life than they
do. But this is a mistaken idea, for Providence has measured out to both sexes
an equal share of this world’s evils; and if Adam was sentenced to earn his
bread in the sweat of his face, Eve was also condemned to suffer many sorrows
and greater bodily pain than her husband, besides being required to yield entire
obedience to his will, a commandment by no means easy to observe.
Meanwhile the day has rapidly advanced, and Lysias,
having partaken of a scanty breakfast, is preparing with no very smiling
countenance to attend the trial of his unfortunate victim.
Slowly and thoughtfully he arranges his cloak on his shoulders, and draws back
the curtain from the doorway; slowly and thoughtfully he enters the street and
takes his way to the prefect’s court, still musing on his former subject of
perplexity – the strange disappearance of Secundus. He
wonders to himself whom he shall employ in the young man’s place if he be again
obliged to visit the caves
(p.
62)
in his hunt after Beatrice, or whom he can now find to work out for him the perilous undertaking. He wonders too what will be said by the relatives of Secundus, how he shall be able to meet their reproaches, and what he shall say to exculpate himself. But then again he considers that if he can only secure Beatrice, some part of her wealth might easily serve to compensate them for the young man’s loss, and with this last reflection he quickens his pace, and hastens more eagerly to the prefect’s court of justice.
Índice Geral das Seções Índice da Seção Atual Índice da Obra Atual Anterior: V - Perdidos e Salvos Seguinte: Vll - O Julgamento e suas Consequências