The two ladies and their cortège proceeded for some distance along the shore of the harbor, and then turned up-hill in the direction of Cumae.54 In front walked eight or ten slaves55 who cleared the way; then came Octavia, her litter borne by six bronze-hued Lusitanians.56 Claudia shared her litter with Baucis, while Herodianus, Magus, Octavia’s rowers, and a few servants with various bundles followed on foot. Aurelius had mounted his Hispanian horse and rode by the side of the little caravan, sometimes in front, sometimes behind, and enquiring the way, now of Octavia and now of Claudia and Baucis.
“Our villa is quite at the top of the ridge,” said Claudia. “There, where the holm oaks come down to the fig gardens.”
“What?” cried Aurelius in surprise. “That great pillared building, half buried in the woods to the left?”
“No, no,” said the girl laughing; “the gods have not housed us so magnificently. To the right – that little villa in the knoll.”
“Ah!” cried the Batavian; the disappointment was evidently a very pleasant one. “And whose is that vast palace?”
“It belongs to Domitia, Caesar’s wife. Since she has lived separate from her imperial lord, she always spends the summer here.”
The road grew steeper as they mounted.
“Oh merciful power!” sighed the worthy Baucis, “to think that these fine young men should be made to toil thus for an old woman! By Osiris! I am ashamed of myself. To carry you, sweet Claudia, is indeed a pleasure – but me, wrinkled old Baucis! If I had not sprained my ribs – as sure as I live…! But I will reward them for it; each man shall have a little jar of Nile-water.”
“Do not be uneasy on their account,” said Herodianus, wiping his brow. “Our Northmen are used to heavier burdens!” Then, turning to Magus, he went on: “By all the gods, I entreat you – a draught of Caecubum!57 I am bound to carry this weary load,” and he slapped his round paunch, “this Erymanthian boar,58 like a second Hercules, to the top of the hill on my own unaided legs! and I am dropping with exhaustion.”
The Goth smiled and signed to one of the slaves, who was carrying wine and other refreshments.
“The wine of Caecubus,” said Herodianus, “is especially good against fatigue. Dionysus,59 gracious giver, I sacrifice to thee!” and as he spoke he shed a few drops as a libation60 on the earth and then emptied the cup with the promptitude of a practised drinker.
In about twenty minutes more they reached Octavia’s house; in the vestibule61 a young girl came running out to meet them.
“Mother, dear, sweet mother!” she cried excitedly, “and Claudia, my darling! Here you are at last. Oh! we have been so dreadfully frightened, Quintus and I; that awful storm! the whole bay was churned up, as white as milk. But oh! I am glad to have you safe again! Quintus! Quintus!..”
And she flew back into the house, where they heard her fresh, happy voice still calling: “Quintus!”
“My adopted daughter,"62 said Octavia, in answer to an enquiring glance from Aurelius.
“Lucilia,” added Claudia, “whom I love as if she were my own real sister.”
Aurelius, who had sprung from his horse, throwing the bridle to his faithful Magus, was on the point of conducting Octavia into the atrium,63 when a youth of remarkable beauty appeared in the door-way and silently clasped this lady in his arms. Then he pressed a long and loving kiss on Claudia’s lips, and it was not till after he had thus welcomed the mother and daughter, that he turned hesitatingly to Aurelius, who stood on one side blushing deeply; a sign from Octavia postponed all explanation. The whole party entered the house, and it was not till they were standing in the pillared hall, where marble seats piled with cushions invited them to repose, that Octavia said to the astonished youth with a certain solemnity of mien:
“Quintus, my son, it is to this stranger – the noble and illustrious Caius Aurelius Menapius, of Trajectum, in the land of the Batavi – that you owe it that you see us here now. He took us on board his trireme, for our boat was sinking. I declare myself his debtor henceforth forever. Do you, on your part, show him all the hospitality and regard that he deserves.” Quintus came forward and embraced Aurelius.
“I hope, my lord,” he said with an engaging smile, “that you will for some time give us the honor of your company and so give us, your debtors, the opportunity we desire of becoming your friends.”
“He has already promised to do so,” said Octavia.
Lucilia now joined them, having put on a handsomer dress in honor of the stranger, and stuck a rose into her chestnut hair; she sat down by Claudia and took her hand, leaning her head against her shoulder.
“But tell us the whole story!” cried Quintus. “I am burning to hear a full and exact account of your adventure.”
Octavia told her tale; one thing gave rise to another, and before they thought it possible, it was the hour for dinner – the first serious meal of the day, at about noon – and they adjourned to the triclinium.64
Under no circumstances do people so soon wax intimate as at meals. Aurelius, who until now had listened more than he had spoken, soon became talkative under the cool and comfortable vaulted roof of the eating-room, and he grew quite eager and vivacious as he told of his long and dangerous voyage, of the towns he had visited, and particularly of his distant home in the north. He spoke of his distinguished father, who, as a merchant, had travelled eastwards to the remote lands east of the peninsula of the Cimbri65 and to the fog-veiled shores of the Guttoni,66 the Aestui67 and the Scandii;68 indeed Aurelius himself knew much of the wonders and peculiarities of these little-visited lands, for he had three times accompanied his father. Many a time on these expeditions had they passed the night in lonely settlements or hamlets, where not a soul among the natives understood the Roman tongue, where the bear and the aurochs fought in the neighboring woods, or eternal terrors brooded over the boundless plain.
These pictures of inhospitable and desert regions, which Aurelius so vividly brought before their fancy, were those which best pleased his hearers. Here, close to the luxurious town, and surrounded by everything that could add comfort and enjoyment to life, the idea of perils so remote seemed to double their appreciation.69 When they rose from table the ladies withdrew, to indulge in that private repose which was customary of an afternoon. Lucilia could not forbear whispering to her companion, that she would far rather have remained with the young men – that Aurelius was a quite delightful creature, modest and frank, and at the same time upright and steady – a rock in the sea on which the Pharos of a life’s happiness might be securely founded.
“You know,” she added earnestly, while her eyes sparkled with excitement from under her thick curls, “Quintus is far handsomer – he is exactly like the Apollo in the Golden House70 by the Esquiline. But he is also like the gods, in that he is apt to vanish suddenly behind a cloud, and is gone. Now Aurelius, or my soul deceives me, would be