One of these men, Proculus by name, she recognized as an old acquaintance. He had once been in command of the yacht which belonged to Agrippina, the Emperor’s mother. It was one of the very few pleasures of Octavia’s unhappy life to join her mother-in-law in occasional excursions round the Campanian coast. At these times Epicharis had often been in waiting, and Proculus had regarded her with much admiration. She gathered now from words that he let drop in her hearing, and from what was said by others, that he was in a dissatisfied frame of mind. He was accustomed to talk vaguely of great services which he had rendered to the Emperor, and which had received a very inadequate reward. This seemed to promise some sort of an opening, and she resolved, in default of anything better, to avail herself of it. It is true that she did not like or trust the man. In old times he had not been a favourite; his openly expressed admiration had, on the contrary, been extremely offensive to her. But she was almost in despair. She had not found in the fleet any of the [228] explosive material, so to speak, which she had hoped to discover there. Nero seemed to be highly popular. He mixed freely with the sailors, treated them in a friendly fashion, and was liberal in his presents. Still, for her present purpose, one such adherent as Proculus would suffice. Carried out of herself by her eagerness for revenge, with her mind, in fact, thrown off its balance by this excitement, she resolved to make the trial.
One day, in the course of an entertainment, Proculus had paid her some compliment on her musical skill and gone on to express his admiration for her beauty. Crushing down disgust at his advances, for the man was personally odious to her, Epicharis gave an answer that encouraged further conversation, and induced him, with no little skill, to speak of himself, his disappointments, and his claims. Artfully expressing a sympathetic surprise that he had not reached a position more commensurate with his merits, of which he had indeed an unbounded opinion, she led him on to use language which certainly had an almost treasonable sound. As a matter of fact, this talk was mere bluster. He would not have used it to any one who would, he thought, have taken it seriously. But this was exactly what Epicharis did. When she judged that he had to a certain extent committed himself, she revealed her identity. The man, though somewhat confused with the wine which he had been drinking, at once perceived that there was something [229] serious in the affair. Epicharis he had almost forgotten, but he was perfectly well aware that Octavia had left devoted friends behind her. He listened with attention when she began to hint at the scheme which was in her mind. She would tell him no names, but she gave him to understand that there were powerful people behind her, people who would be able and willing to remunerate him handsomely for any service that he might render. Only, she was careful to impress upon him, he must lose no time; he must not let any one else anticipate him.
For a time the man wavered. It might be worth his while, he thought, to make the venture. It might be possible to secure a position really worth having under a new order of things. He was ambitious, so far as a greedy, pleasure-loving temper could make him so, and for a few moments he seemed to see within his reach great power and wealth, and all the opportunities of pleasure which these two things command. And though he was a dull, brutal, utterly selfish creature, the enthusiasm of Epicharis, backed as it was by the charm of her beauty, touched his fancy if not his heart.
But when the magic of her presence was removed, he began to see impossibilities in the way which had not occurred to him before. In fact, the man’s past was such that if Epicharis had but known it, he would have been the very last person in the world in whom she would have confided. The services [230] which he had rendered to Nero, and for which he conceived himself to have been insufficiently paid, were such as to put an absolutely impassable gulf between him and the revolutionists. He had been Nero’s tool in the perpetration of the very worst of his crimes, the murder of his mother. It was he who had been in command of the yacht in which she nearly met with her death. He was actually present and assisting when the hideous deed was finally accomplished. Nero might not be duly grateful for such services, but from any one else they would meet with no other reward than the halter or the axe. When Nero had received his due, then those who had helped to rid him of his mother and his wife would not be long in meeting with theirs. Epicharis’ schemes, therefore, had, when he came to examine them, nothing attractive about them. Still, as he soon began to reflect, they might be made to yield a profit. Why not use them to put Nero under a second obligation? Why not give information of them, and pose as the saviour of the Emperor’s life?
This last purpose was almost immediately carried out. Before the next day had dawned Proculus was at Antium, where Nero was then residing, and in the course of a few hours Tigellinus was in possession of all that he had to communicate. The Minister acted promptly. Epicharis, who had been eagerly waiting for some communication from Proculus, was arrested in her lodging by a Centurion, conveyed in a litter to [231] the Emperor’s villa at Antium, and almost immediately after confronted with her accuser.
She did not lose her self-possession and presence of mind for a moment. Proculus told his story, not, of course, without exaggeration, and the addition of details which made it more picturesque and effective. She met it with a flat denial. He had no witnesses to produce; and for the present, at least, her word was as good as his.
As for herself, she made no attempt at concealment. She had been a waiting woman of the Empress, and she had loved her mistress.
Questioned as to the reason why she had disguised herself as a singing-girl, she smiled and shrugged her shoulders. It was partly, she explained, a frolic, but chiefly because she was desperately poor. “My mistress,” she explained with the utmost simplicity of manner, “left me a legacy, which would have put me beyond poverty; but it has not yet been paid to me.”
The shaft struck home, as it had been intended to strike, though the intention was admirably concealed. Nero blushed and winced. He had had the meanness to refuse, or, rather, to postpone indefinitely, the payment of the few legacies which Octavia had left to her attendants.
Every inquiry she met with the same imperturbable composure. She missed no opportunity of planting a sting in the consciences of her questioners�if consciences they had; but no one could be sure that [232] it was done with intention. In the end, she came out of the cross-examination, which was protracted and severe, without having made a single damaging admission.
When accuser and accused were removed from the presence, the Emperor summed up the case after this fashion. “Well, the woman has much more the look of telling the truth than the man. And he is, I know, a thorough scoundrel. However, where there is smoke there is pretty sure to be fire. See that she is kept in safe custody, Tigellinus, but don’t let any harm come to her. We shall see what happens.”
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THE PLOT THICKENS
[233] THE arrest and detention of Epicharis was soon known to the conspirators at Rome. At the result of the examination, they could only guess. However, as she was being kept in honourable custody, without having to suffer any indignity or hardship, it was safe to conjecture that nothing compromising had been discovered.
Still the incident was alarming, and made the necessity of immediate action more pressing than ever. A meeting of the conspirators, who now numbered more than fifty in all, itself a most dangerous circumstance, was held without delay. At this it was unanimously resolved, almost without discussion, that the attempt must be made at the very first convenient opportunity. The Tribune Subrius, who was generally recognized as one of the most daring of the associates, and who, if it had only been permitted, would have struck the blow long before, was invited to give his opinion as to the time, the place, and the manner of the deed, which, it must be understood, was nothing else than the assassination of Nero.
Subrius had thought out his plan, and had the [234] details ready. “In my judgment,” he said,” we have already waited too long; but of that it is now useless to speak, except so far as to prove that we should wait no longer. We are in imminent danger. A woman, who knows at least the names of two of us, is in prison on this very charge; and though I know her to be brave and steadfast beyond the habit of her sex, the peril that lies in her knowledge is great. Let us anticipate it. To-night Nero goes to Bai?, and takes up his abode in the villa of Caius Piso. There is no place where he lives in so little state; and state, with the multitudes of guards and attendants that it implies, is the same thing as safety. I propose that the deed be done to-morrow, and I offer myself as the doer of it. Suffer me to choose the hour, and also my companion, for more than one I shall not need.”