THE ROBE (69 page)

'We had a long talk with your handsome fool.' Tiberius hoisted his tired
bones over to the edge of the big bed, and scowled into Diana's anxious eyes.
'You said that old Dodinius was crazy. Compared to this Marcellus, Dodinius is
a ray of light!'

'I'm sorry,' murmured Diana. 'I was with him for an hour, yesterday
afternoon, and he talked sensibly enough.'

'Perhaps you did not discuss the one thing that touches him. Do you know
he has become convinced that this Jesus is divine, and has intentions to rule
the whole world?'

'Oh, no, please!' entreated Diana, suddenly sickened.

'You ask him! You won't have to ask him! You just say,
"Jesus"--and see what happens to you!'

'But, naturally,' stammered Diana, loyally, 'Marcellus would want to
tell Your Majesty everything about this poor dead Jew, seeing that's why he was
sent abroad.'

'Poor dead Jew, indeed!' shrilled Tiberius. 'This Galilean came to life
again! Went about the country! Walked, talked, ate with people! Still going
about, they think! Likely to turn up anywhere!'

'Perhaps they didn't kill him,' suggested Diana.

'Of course they killed him!' snarled Tiberius.

'And Marcellus thinks he came to life; did he see him?'

'No, but he believes it. And he has it that this Jesus is a god, who
will take command of the world and rule it without armies.'

Diana winced and shook her head.

'I thought he was fully recovered,' she said, dismally. 'This sounds as
if he were worse than ever. What are we to do?'

'Well, if there is anything to be done, you will have to do it yourself.
May we remind you that our interest in this mad young Tribune is solely on your
account? It was for your sake that we brought him back from that fort at Minoa.
For your sake, again, we found an errand for him outside the country to give
him time to recover his mind. We see now that we sent him to the wrong
place--but it is too late to correct that mistake. He knows that he is under a
heavy obligation to you. Besides, he loves you. Perhaps you can prevail upon
him to abandon his interest in this Galilean.' The old man paused, shook his
head slowly, and added, 'We doubt whether you can do anything. You see, my
child, he really believes it!'

'Then, why not let him believe it?' insisted Diana. 'I love him, no
matter what he believes about that--or anything! He won't pester me with this
crazy idea; not if I tell him I have no interest in it.'

'Ah, but there's more to it than that, young woman!' declared Tiberius,
sternly. 'It isn't as if Marcellus, as a casual traveller in Galilee, had
happened upon this strange story and had become convinced of its truth. In that
case, he might regard it as a seven-day wonder--and let it go at that. As the
matter stands, he probably considers himself bound to do something about it. He
crucified this Jesus! He has a debt to pay! It's a bigger debt, by far, than
the one he owes you!'

'Did he say that, Your Majesty?' asked Diana, deeply hurt.

'No, he did not say that. But your Marcellus, unfortunately, is a young
man of strong will and high integrity. This is going to cause him a great deal
of trouble--and you, too, we surmise. He will feel obliged to take part in this
Jesus movement.'

'Movement?' echoed Diana, mystified.

'Nothing less, and it has in it the seeds of revolution. Already,
throughout our Palestinian provinces, thousands are professing that this Jesus
is the Christos, the Anointed One, and are calling themselves Christians. The
thing is moving rapidly, up through Macedonia, down through Mesopotamia; moving
quietly, but gathering strength.'

Diana listened with wide, incredulous eyes.

'You mean--they might try to overthrow the Empire?'

'Not by force. If some foolhardy fellow were to stand up on a cart and
yell at these captive people to take up arms against their masters, they would
know that was hopeless. But--here comes a man without an army; doesn't want an
army; has no political aspirations; doesn't want a throne; has no offices to
distribute; never fought a battle; never owned a sword; hasn't a thing to
recommend him as a leader, except'--Tiberius lowered his voice to a throaty
rumble--'except that he knows how to make blind men see, and cripples walk;
and, having been killed for creating so much excitement, returns from the dead,
saying, "Follow me--and I will set you free!" Well, why shouldn't
they follow him, if they believe all that?' The old man chuckled mirthlessly.
'There's more than one kind of courage, my child,' he soliloquized, 'and the
most potent of all is the reckless bravery of people who have nothing to lose.'

'And you think Marcellus is one of these Christians?' queried Diana.

'Of course he is! Makes no bones about it! He had the audacity to tell
us, to our face, that the Roman Empire is doomed!'

'Why, what an awful thing to say!' exclaimed Diana.

'Well, at least it's a dangerous thing to say,' mumbled Tiberius; 'and
if he is fool enough to blurt that out in the presence of the Emperor, he is
not likely to be prudent in his remarks to other people.'

'He might be tried for treason!'

'Yes, but he wouldn't care. That's the trouble with this new Galilean
idea. The people who believe it are utterly possessed! This Jesus was tried for
treason, and convicted, and crucified. But he rose from the dead, and he will
care for all who give up their lives as his followers. They have no fear. Now,
you set a thing like that in motion and there'd be no end to it!'

'But what has Marcellus to gain by predicting doom for the Empire?'
wondered Diana. 'That's quite absurd, I think.'

'Had you thought the Roman Empire might last forever?' rasped Tiberius.

'I never thought much about it,' admitted Diana.

'No, probably not,' mumbled the old man, absently. He lay for some time
staring at the high-vaulted ceiling. 'It might be interesting,' he went on,
talking to himself, 'it might be interesting to watch this strange thing
develop. If it could go on the way it seems to be going now, nothing could stop
it. But it won't go on--not like that. It will come to grief, after a while--as
soon as it gets into a strong position and is able to dictate terms. Then it
will squabble over its offices and spoils, and grow heady with power and
territory. The Christian afoot is a formidable fellow, but when he becomes
prosperous enough to ride a horse--' Tiberius suddenly broke out in a startling
guffaw. 'He! he! he! when he gets a horse! Ho! ho! ho! a Christian on horseback
will be just like any other man on horseback! This Jesus army will have to
travel on foot--if it expects to accomplish anything!'

Diana's eyes widened as she listened, with mingled pity and revulsion,
to the mad old Emperor's prattle. He had talked quite rationally for a while.
Now he was off again. By experience she knew that his grim amusement would
promptly be followed by an unreasonable irascibleness. She moved to the edge of
her chair, as to inquire whether she might go now. The old man motioned her
back.

'Your Marcellus has another audience with us at noon,' he said, soberly.
'We told him we had no intention of permitting you to throw yourself away by
marrying a man who has anything to do with this dangerous Jesus business. If he
goes in for it seriously--and we have no doubt he intends to--he will lose his
friends, and his life, too. Let him do it if he likes; but he shall not drag
you with him! We told him he must choose. We told him if he did not abandon
this Christian movement at once, we would give you in marriage to Gaius.'

'Oh, please, no!' begged Diana.

'We admit,' chuckled Tiberius, 'that Gaius has his little faults; but he
can make a Princess of you! You may not think it an ideal alliance, but you
will be happier as a Princess than as the wife of a crazy man in love with a
ghost!'

'What did he say,' Diana whispered, 'when you told him you would give me
to Gaius?'

'He wanted until noon to-day, to consider.' The old man raised himself
on his elbow to note the effect of this shocking announcement. His grin slowly
faded when he saw how painfully she had been wounded.

'He wanted time to consider,' she reflected, brokenly, 'to
consider--whether he would let me be handed over--to Gaius!'

'Yes, and our opinion is that he will let that happen! Regardless of his
love for you, my child, he will not give up his Jesus!' Tiberius shook a long
bony finger directly in her face. 'That's what we meant when we told you that
this Christian movement is no small thing! Men who believe in it will give up
everything! With Marcellus, nothing else matters.
Not even you!'

'Then perhaps there is no reason why I should talk to him,' said Diana,
hopelessly. 'It would only hurt us both.'

'Oh, it's worth a trial. We pledged him not to talk with you until he
had come to a decision, but we shall send him word that he is released from his
promise. Perhaps you can help him decide.'

Diana rose and moved toward the door.

'Better not confront him with our threat to give you to Gaius,' called
the old man. 'You are not supposed to know that!'

They sat close together on the marble lectus in the sequestered pergola,
silently gazing out upon a calm summer sea. It lacked less than half an hour of
noon now and Marcellus would have to be going; for he had an urgent appointment
with an old man, and old men--whatever their faults--had a high regard for
punctuality.

Everything, it seemed, had been said. Diana, emotionally exhausted,
leaned her head against Marcellus's shoulder. Sometimes an involuntary sob tore
into her breathing, and his arm would tighten about her protectingly.

When they had met there, three hours ago, Diana thought she had reason
to hope that their love would solve the problem. Marcellus, strong but tender,
had disclosed a depth of passion that had shaken them both. Nothing could tear
them apart now; nothing! Diana was ecstatic. There could be no trouble for them
now. So long as they had each other, let the world do what it liked. Let the
Empire stand or fall. Let this Jesus go about forever doing good and ruling men
by good will, or let him fail of it, and the world go on fighting and starving
as it had always been fighting and starving; they had each other, and nothing
could separate them! She hungrily raised her face to meet his kisses. He felt
her heart pounding. They were one!

'Come, now,' Diana had whispered, breathlessly, 'let us sit down, and
make some plans.'

They sat, very close together, and very much aware of each other, until
Diana drew a little apart and shook her head. Her eyes were radiant, but her
lips were trying to be resolute.

'Please, Marcellus!' she murmured, unsteadily. 'Talk to me! Let us
decide what we will say to the Emperor. He wants me to be happy, and he knows I
love you. Why not ask him to give you something to do in Rome?'

'But he expects you to live here,' Marcellus reminded her.

'Perhaps we can talk him out of that,' hoped Diana. 'My villa is not
finished. Ill as he is, Tiberius knows he cannot supervise it. I think it
worries him. He may be glad enough to have done with it. Let us tell him we
want to go back to Rome, at least for a while, and visit our people, and be
married. Maybe he will consent.'

'He might,' agreed Marcellus, from a considerable distance. 'There's no
telling what the Emperor will think--about anything.'

'And then,' Diana went on, with girlish enthusiasm, 'you could do all
the things you liked to do, and renew your old friendships, and go to the
Tribunes' Club--'

Marcellus frowned.

'Well, what's the matter with the Tribunes' Club?' demanded Diana. 'You
used to spend half your time there, in the gymnasium and the baths.'

Marcellus leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and stared moodily
at his interlaced fingers.

'That was before I knew what it had cost to erect that marble
clubhouse,' he said, soberly.

'Oh, my dear, why can't you leave off fretting over things you can't
help?' implored Diana. 'It distresses you that the marble was quarried by
slaves. Well, and so was this marble we're sitting on--and the marble that went
into your villa at home. Let's agree it's too bad that some people are slaves;
but what are you going to do about it, all by yourself?'

Marcellus sighed deeply and shook his head. Then, suddenly
straightening, he faced her with a surprisingly altered mood, his eyes alight.

'Diana, I am bursting to tell you a story--about a man--about a
remarkable man!'

'If he's the man I think you mean'--Diana's face had lost its
animation--'I'd really rather you didn't. He has caused you so much
unhappiness, and I think it is time you put him out of your mind. I don't
believe he has been good for you.'

'Very well,' consented Marcellus, the smile fading from his eyes. 'As
you like.' He fell silent.

Impetuously, Diana moved closer to him, repentant.

'I shouldn't have said that,' she whispered. 'Tell me about him.'

Marcellus was well prepared for this opportunity. He had given much
thought to what he would say when the time came for him to tell Diana about
Jesus. It would not be easy to make her understand. All her instincts would be
in revolt. She would be deeply prejudiced against the story. He had carefully
planned the speech he would make to her, in which he must explain Jesus as a
divine liberator of the world's oppressed. But now, with Diana's warm and
supple form snuggled close against him, he decided to abandon this larger
appraisal and deal more simply with his story. He began by telling her about
Jonathan and the donkey.

'What a shamefully mean thing to do to that little boy!' she exclaimed,
when Jonathan sorrowfully gave up his donkey to Thomas.

'It was a severe test,' admitted Marcellus, 'but it made a little man of
Jonathan.'

'And why did they want Jonathan to be a little man?' demanded Diana,
making it clear that if she were obliged to listen to this Galilean story, she
reserved the right to make comments and ask questions. 'I should have thought,'
she went on, innocently, 'that Jonathan would have been ever so much more
attractive as a little boy.'