The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XLV, Issue 18, 2 May 1918, Page 3

The Storyteller

(By Cardinal Wiseman.)

.:-'.;: FAB 10 LA; '- V V- k 08, THE CHURCH OF THE CATACOMBS - .-.". '• f ~

Part First-Peace J ;, CHAPTER XIX.— FALL. '.; ; Torquatus, now elegantly attired, proceeded at once to the house of Fabius, delivered his letter, an- - swered all inquiries, and accepted, without much pressing, an invitation to supper that evening. He then went to seek a respectable lodging, suited to the present state of his purse and easily found one. Fabius, we have said, did not accompany his daughter into the country, and rarely visited her there. The fact was, that he had no love for green fields or running brooks; his tastes were for the gossip and free society of Rome. During the year, his daughter's presence was a restraint on his liberty; but when she was gone, with her establishment, into Campania, his house presented scenes and entertained persons, that he would not have presumed to bring in contact with her. Men of profligate life surrounded his table; and deep drinking till late hours, with gambling and loose conversation, generally followed his sumptuous entertainments. Having invited Torquatus to sup with him, he went forth in search of guests to meet him. He soon picke I up a batch of sycophants, who were loitering about his known haunts, in readiness for invitations. But as lie was sauntering home from the baths of Titus, he saw two men in a small grove round a temple earnestly conversing together. After a moment's look, he advanced towards them; but waited, at a small distance, for a pause in the dialogue, which was something to this effect. "There is no doubt, then, about the news?" "None at all. It is quite certain that the people have risen at Nicomedia and burnt down the church, as they call it, of the Christians, close to, and in sight of, the palace. My father heard it from the emperor's secretary himself this morning." "Whatever possessed the fools to go and build a temple in one of the most conspicuous places of the metropolis? They must have known that, sooner or later, the religious spirit of the nation would rise against them and destroy the eyesore, as every exhibition of a foreign religion must be to an empire." "To be sure, as my father says, these Christians, if they had any wit in them, would hide their heads, and slink into corners, when they are so condescendingly tolerated for a time by the most humane princes. But as they do not choose to do so, but will build temples in public instead of skulking in by-lanes as they used to do, I for one am not sorry. One may gain some notoriety, and profit too, by hunting these odious people down, and destroying them if possible." "Well, be it so; but to come to the purpose. It is understood between us, that when we can discover who are Christians among the rich, and not too powerful at first, there shall be a fair division. We will aid one another. You propose bold and rough means : I will keep my counsel as to mine. But each shall reap all the profit from those whom he discovers; and his right proportion from those who are shared between us. Is it not so?" "Exactly." Fabius now stepped forward with. a hearty "How are you, Fulvius ? I have not seen you for an age come and sup with me to-day, I have friends engaged and your friend too—Corvinus, I believe" (the gentleman alluded to made an uncouth bow), "will accompany you, I hope." "Thank you," replied Fulvius; "but I fear I have an engagement already." "Nonsense, man," said the good-natured knight;

“there is nobody, left. in the city with whom you could sup, except myself. But has my house the plague,, that you have never ventured into it, since you dined there with Sebastian, and ’quarrelled with him Or did you get.struck by some magical charm, which has driven you away?” Fulvius turned pale, and drew away Fabius to one side, while he said, “To tell the truth, something very like it.” ' 5 J

"I. hope," answered Fabius, somewhat startled, "that the black witch has been playing no tricks with you; I wish heartily she were out of my house. But come," he continued in good humor, "I really thought you were struck by a better charm that evening." I have my eyes open; I saw how your heart was fixed on my little cousin Agnes." Fulvius stared at him with some amazement ; and after a pause replied, "And if it was so, I saw that your daughter made up her mind that no good should ever come out of it." "Say you. so? Then that explains your constant refusal to come to me again. But Fabiola is a-philo-sopher, and understands nothing of such matters. I wish, indeed, she would give up her books, and think of settling herself in life, instead of preventing others. But I can give you better news than that; Agnes is as much attached to you as you can be to her." "Is it possible ? How can you happen to know it V "Why, then, to tell you what I should have told you long since, if you had not fought so shy of me, she confided it to me that very day." "To you?" "Yes, to me; those jewels of yours quite won her heart. She told me as much. I knew she could only mean you. Indeed, I am sure she meant you." Fulvius understood these words of the rich gems which he displayed; while the knight, spoke of the jewels which he imagined Agnes had received. She had proved, Fulvius was thinking, an easy prize, in spite of her demureness ; and here lay fortune and rank open before him, if he could only manage his game ; when Fabius thus broke in upon' his dream, "Come, now, you have only to press your suit boldly ; and I tell you, you will win it, whatever Fabiola may think. But you have nothing to fear from her now. She and all her servants are absent ; her part of the house is closed, and we enter by the back-door to the more enjoyable part of the establishment." "I will wait on you without fail," replied Fulvius. "And Corvinus with you," added Fabius, as he turned away.

We will not describe the banquet further than to say that wines of rare excellence flowed so plentifully, that almost all the guests got, more or less, heated and excited. Fulvius, however, for one, kept himself cool. The news from the East came into discussion. The destruction of the church at Nicomedia had been followed by incendiary fires in the imperial palace. Little doubt could exist that the Emperor Galerius was their author; but he charged them on the Christians and thus goaded on the reluctant mind of Dioclesian to become their fiercest persecutor. Every one began to see that, before many months were over, the imperial edict to commence the work of destruction would reach Rome, and find in Maximian a ready executor.

The guests were generally inclined to gore the stricken deer; for generosity,' in favor of those whom popular clamor hunts down, requires an amount of courage too heroic to be common. Even the most liberal found reasons for Christians being excepted from all kind consideration. One could not bear their mysteriousness, another was vexed at their supposed progress; this man thought them opposed to the real glory of the empire, that considered them a foreign element, that ought to be eliminated from it. One thought their doctrine detestable, another their practice infamous. During all this debate, if it could be so called, where both sides came to the same conclusion,

Fulvius, after having glanced-from one to-the other of the guests, had fixed his evil eye upon Torquatus. The youth was silent ; but his countenance, by turns, was pale and flushed. Wine had given him a rash courage, which some strong principle restrained. Now he clenched his hand, and pressed it to his breast; now he bit his lip. At one time he was crumbling the bread between his fingers, at another he drank off, unconsciously, a cup of wine. “These Christians hate us, and would destroy us all if they could,” said one. Torquatus leaned forward, opened his lips, but remained silent.

"Destroy us, indeed! Did thev not burn Rome, under Nero; and have they not just set fire to the palace in Asia, over the emperor's head?" asked a second. Torquatus rose upon his couch, stretched forth his hand, as if about to reply, but drew it back. "But what is infinitely worse is, their maintaining such anti-social doctrines, conniving at such frightful excesses, and degrading themselves to the disgusting worship of an ass's head," proceeded a third. Torquatus now fairly writhed; and rising, had lifted his arm, when Fulvius, with a cool calculation of time and words, added in bitter sarcasm: "Ay, and massacre a child, and devour his flesh and blood, at every assembly."! The arm descended on the table, with a .blow that made every goblet and beaker dance and ring, as in a choked voice Torquatus exclaimed, "It is a lie! a cursed lie !" "How can you know that?" asked Fulvius, with his blandest tone and look. "Because," answered the other, with great excitement, "I am myself a Christian, and ready to die for my faith !" ."'''.". If the beautiful alabaster statue, with a bronze head, in the niche beside the table, had fallen forward, and been smashed on the marble pavement, it could not have caused a more fearful sensation than this sudden announcement. All were startled for a moment. Next, a long blank pause ensued, after which each began to show his feelings in his features. Fabius looked exceedingly foolish, as if conscious that he had brought his guests into bad company. Calpurnius puffed himself out, evidently thinking himself ill-used by having a guest brought in who might absurdly be supposed to know more about Christians than himself. A young man opened his mouth as he stared at Torquatus, and a testy old gentleman was evidently hesitating whether he should not knock down somebody or other, no matter whom. Corvinus looked at the poor Christian with a sort of grin" of delight, halfidiotic, half-savage, with which a countryman might gaze upon the vermin that he finds in his trap in a morning. Here was a man ready to hand, to put on the rack or the gridiron whenever lie pleased. But the look of Fulvius was worth them all. If ever any microscopic observer has had the opportunity of witnessing the expression of the spider's features, when, after a long fast, it sees a fly, plump with others' blood, approach its net, and keenly watches every stroke of its wing, and studies how it can best throw only the first thread round it, sure that then all that gorges it shall be its own —that, we fancy, would be the best image of his looks, as certainly it is of his feelings. To get hold of a Christian ready to turn traitor, had long been his desire and study. Here, he was sure, was one, if he could only manage him. How did he know this? Because he knew sufficient of Christians to be convinced that no genuine one would have allowed himself either to drink to excess, or to boast of his readiness to court martyrdom. The company broke up; everybody slunk away from the discovered Christian as from one pest-stricken. He felt alone and depressed, when Fulvius, who had whispered a word to Fabius and to Corvinus, went up to him, and taking him by the hand, said courteously, f The heathen notion of the Blessed Eucharist.

“I 'fear I spoke inconsiderately, in drawing out from you a declaration which may prove dangerous.” ”1 fear nothing,” replied Torquatus, again excited. “I will stand to niy colors to the last.” “Hush, hush!” broke in Fulvius, “the slaves may betray you. Come with me to another chamber, where we can talk quietly together.” So saying, he led him into an elegant rooin, where Fabius had ordered goblets and flagons of the richest Falernian wine to be brought for such as, according to Roman fashion, liked to enjoy a cnmmlxsntio or drink-ing-bout but only Corvinus, engaged by Fulvius, followed.

On a beautifully inlaid table were dice. Fulvius, after plying Torquatus with more liquor, negligently took them up, and threw them playfully down, talking in the meantime on indifferent subjects. “Dear me!” he kept exclaiming, “what throws! It is well I am not playing with any one, or I should have been ruined. You try, Torquatus.” Gambling, as we learnt before, had been the ruin of Torquatus: for a transaction arising out of it he was in prison, when Sebastian converted him. As be took the dice into his hand, with no intention, as be thought, of playing, Fulvius watched him as a lynx might its prey. Torquatus’s eye flashed keenly, his lips quivered, his hand trembled. Ful vius at once recognised in all this, coupled with the poising of his hand, the knowing cast of the wrist, and the sharp eye to the value of the throw, the violence of a first temptation to resume a renounced vice.

“I fear you are not a better hand than I am at this stupid occupation,” said he indifferently: “but I dare say Corvinus here will give you a chance, if you will stake something very low.” It must be very low indeed—merely for recreation ; for I have renounced gambling. Once, indeed—but no matter.”

“Come on,” said Corvinus, whom Fulvius bad pressed to his work by a look. They began to throw for the most trifling stakes, and Torquatus generally won. Fulvius made him drink still from time to time, and be became very talkative. “Corvinus, Corvinus,” he said at length, as if recollecting himself, “was not that the name that Cassianus mentioned ?”

“Who?” asked the other, surprised. “Yes, it was,” continued Torquatus to himself—“the bully, the big brute. Were you the person,” he asked, looking up to Corvinus, “who struck that nice Christian boy, Pancratius ?” Corvinus was on the point of bursting into a rage, but Fulvius checked him by a gesture, and said, with timely interference, “That Cassianus whom you mentioned is an eminent schoolmaster ; pray, where does he live ?”

This he knew his companion wished to ascertain, and thus he quieted him. Torquatus answered : “He lives, let me see—no, no ; I won’t turn traitor. No; I am ready to be burnt, or tortured, or die for my faith ; but I won’t betray any one—that I won’t.” “Let me take your place, Corvinus,” said Fulvius, who saw Torquatus’s interest in the game deepening. He put forth sufficient skill to make his antagonist more careful and more intent. He threw down a somewhat larger stake. Torquatus, after a moment’s pause of deliberation, matched it. He won it. Fulvius seemed vexed. Torquatus threw back both sums. Fulvius seemed to hesitate, but put down an equivalent, and lost" again. The play was now silent : each won and lost; but Fulvius had steadily the advantage, and he was the more collected of the two.

Once Torquatus looked up and started. lie thought he saw the good Polycarp behind his adversary’s chair. He rubbed his eyes, and saw it was only Corvinus staring at him. All his skill was now put forth. Conscience had retreated ; faith was wavering grace had already departed. For the demon of covetousness, of rapine, of dishonesty, of recklessness, had come back, . and brought with him seven spirits worse than himself to that cleansed but ill-guarded soul; and

as they entered in, all that .was holy, all that was good, departed. ' At length, worked up by repeated losses and draughts of wine into a frenzy, after he had drawn frequently upon the heavy purse which Fabiola had given him, he threw the purse itself upon the table. Fulvius coolly opened it, emptied it, counted the money, and placed opposite an equal heap of gold. Each prepared himself for a final throw. The fatal bones fell; each glanced silently upon their spots. Fulvius drew the money towards himself, Torquatus fell upon the table, his head buried and hidden within his arms. Fulvius motioned Corvinus out of the room.

Torquatus beat the ground with his foot; then moaned, next gnashed his teeth and growled; then put his fingers in his hair, and began to pull and tear it. A voice whispered in his ear, "Are you a Christian?" Which of the seven spirits was it? surely the worst. "It is hopeless," continued the voice; "you have disgraced your religion, and you have betrayed it too." "No, no," groaned the despairing wretch. "Yes; in your drunkenness you have told us all: quite enough to make it impossible for you ever to return to those you have betrayed." ".Begone, begone," exclaimed piteously the tortured sinner. "They will forgive me still. God " "Silence; utter not His name: you are degraded, perjured, hopelessly lost. You are a beggar : to-morrow you must beg your bread. You are an outcast, a ruined prodigal and gamester. Who will look at you ? Will your Christian friends And nevertheless you are a Christian ; you will be torn to pieces by some cruel death for it; yet you will not be worshipped by them as one of their martyrs. You are a hypocrite, Torquatus, and nothing more."

“Who is it that is tormenting me?” he exclaimed, and looked up. Fulvius was standing with folded arms at his side. “And if all this be true, what is it to you ? What have you to say more to me?” he continued.

“Much more than you think. You have betrayed yourself into my power completely. I am master of your money”—(and -he showed him Fabiola’s purse)— “of your character, of your peace, of your life. I have only to let your fellow-Christians know what you have done, what you have said, what you have been to-night, and you dare not face them. I have only to let that ‘bully—that big brute,’ as you called him, but who is son of the Prefect of the city, loose upon you (and no one else can now restrain him after such provocation), and to-morrow you will be standing before his father’s tribunal to die for that religion which you have betrayed and disgraced. Are you ready now, any longer to reel and stagger as a drunken gambler, to represent your Christianity before the judgment-seat in the Forum ?”

The fallen man had not courage to follow the prodigal in repentance, as he had done in sin. Hope was dead in him; for he had relapsed into his capital sin, and scarcely felt remorse. He remained silent, till Fulvius aroused him by asking, “Well, have you made your choice ; either to go at once to the Christians with to-night on your head, or to-morrow to the court? Which do you choose?” Torquatus raised his eyes to him, with a stolid look, and faintly answered, “Neither.” “Come, then, what will you do?” asked Fulvius, mastering him with one of his falcon glances.

“What you like,” said Torquatus, “only neither of those things.” Fulvius sat down beside him, and said, in a soft and soothing voice, “Now, Torquatus, listen to me; do as I tell you, and all is mended. You shall have house, and food, and apparel, ay, and money to play with, if you will only do my bidding.” “And what is that?”

“Rise to-morrow as usual ; put on your Christian face go freely among your friends ; act as if nothing had happened ; but answer all my questions, tell me everything.” Torquatus groaned, (f A traitor at last!”

"Call it what you will; that or death ! , Ay, death by inches. I hear Corvinus pacing impatiently up and down the court. Quick ! which is it to be?" "Not death! , Oh, no! anything but that!" Fulvius went out, and found his friend fuming with rage and wine he had hard work to pacify him. Corvinus had almost forgotten Cassianus in fresher resentments, but all his former hatred had .been rekindled, and he burnt for revenge. Fulvius promised to find out where he lived, and used this means to secure the suspension of any violent and immediate measures. Having sent Corvinus sulky and fretting home, he returned to Torquatus, whom he wished to accompany, that he might ascertain his lodgings. As soon as he had left the room, his victim had arisen from his chair, and endeavored, by walking up and dowri, to steady his senses and regain self-possession. But it was in vain ; his head was swimming from his inebriety, and his subsequent excitement. The apartment seemed to turn round and round, and float up and down: he was sick too, and his heart was beating almost audibly. Shame, remorse, self-contempt, hatred of his destroyers and of himself, the desolateness of the outcast, and the black despair of the reprobate, rolled like dark billows through his soul, each coining in turn uppermost. Unable to sustain himself longer on his feet, he threw himself on his face upon a silken couch, and buried his burning brow in his icv hands and groaned. And still all whirled round and round him, and a constant, moaning sounded in his ears.

Fulvius found him in this state, and touched his shoulder to rouse him. Torquatus shuddered, and was convulsed; then exclaimed, "Can this be Charybdis?" (To be continued.)