No. XIII; or, The Story of the Lost VestalMarshall, Emma
History
No. XIII; or, The Story of the Lost Vestal
Marshall, Emma
Christian converts -- Fiction; Rome -- History -- Empire, 30 B.C.-476 A.D. -- Fiction; Vestal virgins -- Fiction
“How different they are from me,” Casca said. “Do not you wish to join
them in the other vessel?”
“Nay, brother, you know I love best to be with you,” Hyacintha said,
“but I would fain see you happier. Be not so faint-hearted; think of
Rome, and all you will see and do there; and how proud I shall feel
when I hear of my brother as foremost in all things in which young and
noble Romans excel.”
“Nay, little sister, I crave only for peace and study. I know full well
that, by my father’s orders, I shall be hunted about at Rome, as I have
been at Verulam, and I shall have no Claudius to cheer me and help me
there. I marvel much, Hyacintha, what has become of Ebba. If the faith
of the Christian should be the real faith! It seemeth to give the weak
strength and the faint-hearted courage, and for that alone it should be
the faith for such as me.”
Hyacintha turned quickly from her contemplation of the water, and said,
brightly--
“Nay, but Casca, there are brave and courageous ones who follow the old
faith; you forget that everyone is not sad, and----”
“A coward like me”--Casca finished the sentence. “A coward like
me! Well, little sister, you have courage enough for both. I hate
bloodshed.”
“Oh, Casca! Think you that I love to see it? When my mother made me sit
with her, when the wild boars and bulls were let loose on those poor
slaves in the arena at Verulam, I hid my eyes. It is not that sort of
courage I mean. I mean, courage for great and noble things. When the
wild barbarians fell on our troop near Arles, I shuddered. And oh,
Casca! when I saw thee brought in, bleeding so terribly, I could scarce
bear it. I shall be glad to be in Rome, safe in the Vestal’s atrium,
where I am to learn all that befits a priestess of the beautiful
goddess Vesta. I dream of her; and she comes to me in white robes.
I saw her last night walking on the sea--so calm and beautiful--and
on her head burned a star, like that,” the child said, pointing to a
planet which was setting in the eastern heaven, and shone with a steady
radiance in the opal sky.
“The dangers of the way are nearly over now, and then it will be Rome,
and I shall be learning all that I could never learn in Verulam.”
“And have you no longings for our mother and our father? I, who did not
love them, or seem to be loved by them as you were, I have longings.
Our beautiful mother and our noble father! He was hard enough on
me--stern and hard--but then, while it is a gift of the gods to have a
beautiful daughter like thee, Hyacintha, it is a curse for a brave man
to have a weakling like me for an only son.”
Hyacintha was silent for a minute, and then said,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account