Rome -- History -- Republic, 265-30 B.C. -- Fiction
"Ha!" exclaimed Crispus, as he watched their movements, "they will give us
no more trouble to-night, but we will make sure of them by posting one
sentinel above the gate, and another on the head of the watch-tower. Then
we will light us a good fire in the yard below, and feast there on the
beef and wine of those brute peasants. The legionaries fancy that they can
starve us out; but they know not how well we are provided. Hark you, my
Niger. Go down and butcher those two beeves, and when they are flayed and
decapitated, blow me a good loud trumpet blast and roll down the heads
over the battlements. Long ere we have consumed our provender, Catiline
will be down on them in force! I go to look around the place, and make all
certain."
And, with the words, he ascended to the summit of the old watch-tower and
stood there for many minutes, surveying the whole conformation of the
country, and all the defences of the place, with a calm and skilful eye.
The man was by no means destitute of certain natural talents, and an
aptitude for war, which, had it been cultivated or improved, might
possibly have made him a captain. He speedily perceived, therefore, that
the defences were tenable so long only as no ladders or engines should be
brought against them; which he was well assured would be done, within
twenty-four hours at the latest. He knew also that want of provisions must
compel him to surrender at discretion before many days; and he felt it to
be very doubtful whether, without some strong effort on their part
Catiline would hear at all of their situation, until it should be entirely
too late.
He began, therefore, at once, to look about him for means of despatching
an envoy, nothing doubting that succor would be sent to him instantly,
could the arch traitor be informed, that the lovely Julia was a prisoner
awaiting his licentious pleasure.
Descending from the battlements, he proceeded at once to the barrack rooms
in the rear, hoping to find some possibility of lowering a messenger into
the bed of the stream, or transporting him across the ravine, unseen by
the sentinels of the enemy.
Then, casting open a door of fast decaying wood-work, he entered the first
of the low mouldering unfurnished rooms; and, stepping across the paved
floor with a noiseless foot, thrust his head out of the window and gazed
anxiously up and down the course of the ravine.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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