The result was all that she could hope for. Cleonice, whom Priscilla had not forgotten to put exactly where the young man’s eyes would be likely first to fall, could not fail to see that the young man recognized her. The first gaze of his wide-open eyes was without meaning; then as consciousness returned, it became instinct with a fullness of joy and love which it was impossible to mistake. The girl turned away in surprise and confusion; one wonders whether she was wholly without some anticipation of what she saw, but we may be sure that an hour of eloquent speech could not have set forth the secret of his heart more plainly and forcibly than did that one glance of returning life.
The poison was not one of those that injure the tissues of the body or permanently impair its organs. Its danger lies in the power that it has to bring about a sudden suspension of animation. It is not unlike a case of drowning. [205] Recover the drowned, or apparently drowned, person, before the heart and lungs have been inactive too long, and he has received no permanent injury. Eubulus, accordingly, was soon himself again; a day or two sufficed for complete recovery from the shock. Of course his popularity in Corinth was enormously increased. The news of an adventure that has come so very near to being fatal increased the interest felt in him by his fellow citizens almost beyond precedent.
As for Dromeus, he was seen no more at the trainer’s or anywhere else in Corinth. It would not have been safe for him to show himself anywhere in the town, for he would infallibly have been lynched. His conduct when Eubulus was suddenly seized with illness had caused suspicion; he was no hardened criminal, always able to hide his feelings. But he was forgotten in the general confusion, and he took the opportunity thus given him to escape. He had the wit to see that he was not likely to make a success of the traditional profession of his family, and applied himself to some mercantile persuit, and but for an occasional hint that if it had not been for the malevolence of his enemies he would have been the first athlete in Greece, he passed the rest of his life with an eminently respectable character.
[206] As for the confederates, they had fought, it might be said, a drawn battle. They had accomplished nothing as far as the disabling of the athlete was concerned, and they felt that this avenue at least was closed against them. If they were to accomplish their object it must be done in some other way. On the other hand, they had escaped without suspicion. Dromeus had practically acknowledged his guilt by his precipitate flight. They were not absolutely discouraged, but they felt that they were driven into a corner; the time was short and speedy action was necessary. We shall see in the next chapter what was the device to which they had recourse.
FRESH PLOTS
[207] THE three confederates had in their pay one of the slaves belonging to the trainer’s household. This fellow played the same part as do the touts, on an English racecourse. He reported performances, gave the current gossip of the establishmentin short, kept his employers supplied with the latest information about what had happened or was expected to happen. Beyond this he did not go; he was not acquainted with their schemes, but simply told them what he heard or saw. From this man the three heard of Eubulus’s sudden illness, of his speedy recovery, and of Dromeus’s departure. The news was, of course, a disappointment. So much time had been lost, and they were no nearer their end. Still things might have been worse. It was an immense relief that Dromeus had disappeared. He might have turned against them; and his evidence, for which it would not have been difficult for him to find corroboration, would [208] have been most damaging. That danger, anyhow, was over. Still the question remained, and the time for finding an answer was short. How were they to save themselves against the consequence of Eubulus’s victory, an event now more likely than ever? They knew from their agent that the young man was none the worse for his illness, and they lost no time, as may be imagined, in meeting to review the situation.
Ariston was disposed to take credit to himself for having foretold or at least hinted at the failure of the enterprise.
“I have always held,” he said, “that there is nothing like cold steel. Your poisons are very clever, I allow, if you can only get them to work without intermission. And I allow that it is a great advantage that very often you are not called to account for administering them. But then ‘there’s many a slip ‘twixt cup and lip.’ As we have just seen, there are antidotes to be reckoned with. And if you get home to a man’s heart with a dagger, there is no antidote for that.”
“It’s all very well,” said Cleon, whose annoyance at the failure of his scheme was not a little increased by such talk, “it is all very well to talk about the dagger, but who is going to use it? When and where will you find the opportunity? [209] This young fellow is just now the observed of all observers. Where do you propose to get at him? In the trainer’s house? Why, it is guarded like a tyrant’s palace. They were always careful; but now, after this last business, they are more careful than ever. In the streets? with scores of people always running after him? You might by the greatest good luck deal him a blow. But what then? Where is your chance of escape? Why, you would be infallibly torn to pieces. I must own that this sort of thing is not to my liking. Why, I would sooner pay up than face a howling mob of Corinthians when I had just stabbed their favourite runner.”
“My dear Cleon,” retorted Ariston, “you are really somewhat wanting in imagination. You don’t suppose that I am going to behave like some silly boy, who when he has a quarrel with a companion has no other idea of making it straight than giving him a box on the ear. No, I know a better way than that, and I will tell you what it is. I propose that we forge a message from Eubulus’s fatherI don’t know whether you are aware that he is now living at Mantineato this effect: that he is dying, and that he must see his son before his death, having some secret of immense importance to communicate to him. Well, he sets outhe is not [210] the sort of fellow to neglect a message of that kindand we waylay him.”
“That sounds easy enough,” said Cleon, “but how are we to waylay him? He is certain not to be alone, and we are likely to fail just as much as in the Dromeus business, and with much worse consequences to ourselves.”
“A want of imagination again,” said Ariston. “I didn’t mean, of course, that you and I and Democles were to waylay him. Have you ever heard of Pauson the robber chief? Well; I know how to get into touch with him, and my plan is that he and his band should do the waylaying. As to after developments, we must leave them for the present. I am still for putting the young fellow out of the way. Still, I am not bigoted to that idea. If it can be arrangedfor a certainty, mark you, and no possible mistakethat he does not win tie race, let him live. That, however, may be postponed for the present. What must be done at once is the getting hold of Pauson, for there is no time to lose. Now, my friends, what do you say to this? Have you got any better scheme of your own? If not, do you approve? If you do, I will start in the course of a few hours.”
Agree they didin fact, there was scarcely a [211] choiceand Ariston’s scheme seemed to have some promise of success. Meanwhile two actors, whose earlier appearance in the drama I am representing, my readers will doubtless remember, had again come upon the stage. These were the Corsican captain of the ship The Twin Brothers and the bandit chief from the Gallinarian Wood. The wheat trade carried on by Manasseh and Company, if the phrase may be allowed, had not been interrupted by the banishment of the Jews from Rome; the business had been temporarily assigned to a Gentile partner. But the Corsican’s employment had been interrupted by another cause. The Twin Brothers, which, under the charge of an incompetent pilot, had been damaged by being run upon one of the moles in the harbour of Ostia, had been laid up for repairs. The captain had arranged for the execution of this work, and acting on permanent instructions from his employers had charged some one whom he could trust with the business of seeing that they were properly executed. He was quite aware that this sort of thing did not fall within his own province, and he was also rejoiced to get quit of a tedious piece of business which would keep him hanging about the harbour just at the season of the year when it was even less agreeable than usual. The [212] question then presented itself, where should his enforced holiday be spent? There were various reasons that suggested Corinth. The chief, for whom he had a genuine respect, was there, and he might be of service to him and his son, and then there was the forthcoming spectacle of the Isthmian Games. There were also permanently interesting features in the place. The city was one of the great centres of the carrying trade of the world, and the Corsican was sure that he might pick up some knowledge about professional details which would be of service to him in his work. He was about to set out, and purposed to make his journey by sea, when he bethought him of the bandit chief. The man was probably by this time ready, or nearly ready, to get about again. What was he to do? or what was to be done with him? The Corsican felt himself in a way responsible for him, and he came, without much hesitation, to the conclusion to take him with him to Corinth. Accordingly he altered his route, made his way to the place where the man had been left to recover from his injuries, and finding him fairly well restored, brought him to Corinth in his company.