English fiction -- 19th century; Historical fiction; Italy -- History -- 476-774 -- Fiction
Hard by the port was a tavern, which, owing to its position midway
between Neapolis and Cumae, still retained something of its character
as a _mansio_ of the posting service; but the vehicles and quadrupeds
of which it boasted were no longer held in strict reserve for state
officials and persons privileged. Gladly the innkeeper put at Basil's
disposal his one covered carriage, a trifle cleaner inside than it was
without, and a couple of saddle horses, declared to be Sicilian, but
advanced in age. Thus, with slight delay, the party pursued their
journey, Basil and his man riding before the carriage. The road ran
coastwise as far as the Julian haven, once thronged with the shipping
of the Roman world, now all but abandoned to a few fishermen; there it
turned inland, skirted the Lucrine water, and presently reached the
shore of Lake Avernus, where was the entrance to the long tunnel
piercing the hill between the lake and Cumae. On an ill-kept way, under
a low vault of rock dripping moisture, the carriage with difficulty
tossed and rumbled through the gloom. Basil impatiently trotted on,
and, as he issued into sunlight, there before him stood the walls of
the ancient city, round about that little hill by the sea which, in an
age remote, had been chosen for their abode by the first Hellenes
tempted to the land of Italy. High above rose the acropolis, a frowning
stronghold. Through Basil's mind passed the thought that ere long Cumae
might again belong to the Goths, and this caused him no uneasiness;
half, perchance, he hoped it.
A guard at the city gate inspected the carriage, and let it pass on. In
a few minutes, guided by Basil, it drew up before a house in a narrow,
climbing street, a small house, brick fronted, with stucco pilasters
painted red at the door, and two windows, closed with wooden shutters,
in the upper storey. On one side of the entrance stood a shop for the
sale of earthenware; on the other, a vintner's with a projecting marble
table, the jars of wine thereon exhibited being attached by chains to
rings in the wall. Odours of cookery, and of worse things, oppressed
the air, and down the street ran a noisome gutter. When Basil's servant
had knocked, a little wicket slipped aside for observation; then, after
a grinding of heavy locks and bars, the double doors were opened, and a
grey-headed slave stepped forward to receive his mistress. Basil had
jumped down from his horse, and would fain have entered, but, by an
arrangement already made, this was forbidden. Saying that she would
expect him at the second hour on the morrow, Aurelia disappeared. Her
cousin after a longing look at the blind and mute house, rode away to
another quarter of the city, near the harbour, where was an inn at
which he had lodged during his previous visit. In a poor and dirty
room, he made shift to dine on such food as could be offered him; then
lay down on the truckle bed, and slept for an hour or two.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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