The Scarlet Banner Part 20

CHAPTER XX

"I know those tones," said Gelimer, anxiously, turning toward the entrance.

"Yes; it is our boy," cried Gibamund. "He seems very angry."

Even as he spoke young Ammata rushed in, dragging with him by his short hair and the open neck of his robe a lad considerably larger, clad in a richly ornamented tunic, who struggled vainly as the other jerked him with both hands through the entrance, which was closed only by a curtain. The dark eyes, clear-cut features, and round, short head of Ammata's foe indicated his Roman lineage.

"What is it, Ammata?"

"What has happened, Publius Pudentius?"

"No, no! I won't let you go," shouted the Vandal prince. "You shall repeat it in the presence of the King! And the King shall give you the lie! Listen, brother! We were playing in the vestibule; we were wrestling together. I threw him. He rose angrily, and, grinding his teeth, said, 'That doesn't count. The devil, the demon of your race, helped you.'

"'Who?' I asked.

"'Why, that Genseric, the son of Orcus. You Asdings boast of your descent from pagan G.o.ds; but these, so the priest taught us, were demons. That is the reason of his luck, his victories.'

"I laughed, but he went on: 'He said so himself. Once, when Genseric left the harbor of Carthage on his corsair s.h.i.+p and the helmsman asked where he should turn the prow, the wicked tyrant answered: "Let us drift with the wind and waves toward whomsoever G.o.d's anger is directed against."' Is that true, brother?"

"Yes, it is true!" retorted the young Roman. "And it is also true that Genseric was as cruel as a demon to the defenceless and the prisoners.

From rage because he was defeated in an attack upon Taenarus he landed at Zacynthus, dragged away as captives five hundred n.o.ble men and women, and, when out at sea, ordered them the whole five hundred--to be hacked into pieces from the feet upward, and flung into the waves."

"Brother, surely this is not true?" cried Ammata, pus.h.i.+ng back his waving locks from his flushed face. "What? You are silent? You turn away? You cannot--"

"No, he cannot deny it," cried Pudentius, defiantly. "Do you see how pale he turns? Genseric was a demon. You have all sprung from h.e.l.l. He and his successors have committed horrible deeds of cruelty upon us Romans, us Catholics! But wait! It will not remain unpunished. As surely as there is a G.o.d in Heaven! This curse of sin rests upon you.

What do the Scriptures say? 'I will visit the sins of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation.'"

A hollow groan escaped the lips of the King. He tottered, sank upon the couch, and covered his face with the folds of his purple mantle. Ammata gazed at him in terror. Hilda hastily pushed him and the young Roman away.

"Go!" she whispered. "Make friends with each other; you must stop quarrelling. What have you boys to do with such things? Make friends, I say." Ammata held out his right hand pleasantly; the Roman clasped it slowly, angrily.

"Look," said Ammata, stooping, "how lucky!" He lifted from the floor the bit of brownish-red cord, to which the little wax seal hung.

"Yes, indeed," exclaimed Pudentius, in surprise; "the same seal that Verus would not give us for our collection of seals and impressions."

"It is very odd,--a scorpion surrounded by flames."

"Last week, when I saw the open letter lying on his table with the seal and cord, how I begged him for it!"

"He struck my fingers when I seized it."

"I wondered why it should be so valuable."

"And to-day we find it thrown away, on the floor."

"He might have given it to us, then, after the letter was opened."

"He do a kind act? He looks as though he came straight from the nether world."

"Come, let us go."

The two lads left the hall together, apparently friends again. But for how long a time? No one had heard their whispered conversation.

Gibamund bent over his brother.

"Gelimer," he cried sorrowfully, "rouse yourself! Calm yourself! How can the words of a child--"

"Oh, it is true, all too true! It is the torture of my life. It is the worm boring into my brain. Even the children perceive it, utter it!

G.o.d, the terrible G.o.d of vengeance, will visit the sins of our fathers upon us all,--on our whole nation, especially on Genseric's race. We are cursed for the guilt of our ancestors. And on the Day of Judgment, even from the depths of the sea, accusers will rise against us. When the Son of Man returns in the clouds of Heaven, when the summons is heard: 'Earth, open thy heights! mighty ocean, give up thy dead!' those mutilated forms will bear witness against us."

"No, no, thrice no!" cried Gibamund. "Verus, do not stand there with folded arms, so cold, so silent. You see how your friend, your priestly charge, is suffering. You, the shepherd of his soul, help him! Take his delusion from him. Tell him G.o.d is a G.o.d of Mercy, and every man suffers for his own sins only."

But the priest answered gloomily: "I cannot tell the King that he is wrong. You, Prince, talk like a youth, like a layman, like a German, almost like a pagan. King Gelimer, a mature man, has acquired the ecclesiastical wisdom of the Fathers of the Church and the secular knowledge of the philosophers. And he is a devout Christian. G.o.d is a terrible avenger of sin. Gelimer is right, and you are wrong."

"Then I will praise the folly of my youth."

"And I my paganism!" said Hilda. "They make me happy."

"The King's (or your) Sacred Wisdom makes him miserable."

"It might paralyze his strength!"

"Had he not inherited such unusual vigor from his much-despised ancestors."

"And with it the curse of their sins," said Gelimer to himself.

"We might consider," said Verus, slowly, "whether it would not be wise to cast into prison, with the other captives, this Publius Pudentius, the son of Pudentius the rebel, whom he could not take with him in his hasty flight."

"The lad? Why?" asked Hilda, reproachfully.

"With shrewd caution, your former kings reared the sons of aristocratic Romans at their courts, in the palace," Verus went on quietly, "apparently to do honor to their fathers; really as hostages for their fidelity."

"Shall Gelimer the Good visit the father's guilt on the innocent son, like your terrible G.o.d?" cried Gibamund.

"That I would never do," said Gelimer.

"The traitor knew it," replied Verus. "He calculated on your mildness; that is why he dares to rebel while his son is in your hands."

"Let all these boys go in peace to their families."

"That will not do. They are old enough, and have seen enough of our preparations and our weak points to do us serious injury if they should talk of them to our foes. They must remain in the city, in the palace.

I will leave you now; my work summons me."

"One thing more, my Verus. It grieves me that I could not extort from Zazo before his departure a consent which I have long striven to win from him."

"What do you mean?" asked Hilda.

"I can guess," said Gibamund.