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Updated: May 3, 2025
Marcian did not speak with the peasants, but he heard the voice of a woman loud in lamentation, and Sagaris told him that it was for the death of a child, who, straying yesterday at nightfall, had been killed by a wolf. Many hours had the mother wept and wailed, only interrupting her grief to vilify and curse the saint to whose protection her little one was confided.
Then of the message received from Marcian, and how eagerly he set forth to cross the Apennines, resolved that, if he could not find Veranilda, at least he would join himself with her people and fight for their king; of his encounter with the marauding troop, his arrival, worn and fevered, at Aesernia, his meeting with Sagaris, their interview, and what followed upon it.
Then he sprang at the speaker, caught him by the throat, forced him to his knees. 'Scoundrel, you dare to lie to me! So you started from the villa and not from Rome? Sagaris cried out for mercy, grovelled on the floor. He would tell everything; but he implored Basil to keep the secret, for, did his master learn what had happened, his punishment would be terrible. 'Fool! cried Basil fiercely.
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. A knock at the door awoke him. It was Felix, who brought the news that Marcian was at Cumae. 'You have seen him? cried Basil, astonished and eager. 'His servant Sagaris, Felix replied.
Heliodora's talk was of three persons of Marcian, of Basil, of Veranilda and Sagaris, reasoning from all the gossip he had heard, and from all he certainly knew, concluded that the Greek lady had once loved Basil, but did so no more, that her love had turned to Marcian, and that she either knew or suspected Marcian to be a rival of Basil for the love of Veranilda.
And, as if expecting a letter, he stretched forth his hand eagerly. 'He has nothing, that I know of, for you, said the captain. 'If he tells the truth, he is charged with a message for the king. 'Is it Sagaris a Syrian slave? 'A Syrian, by his looks; one I remember to have seen with Marcian a year ago. 'Sagaris, to be sure. Then you can trust him.
'I met him but now in the forum, and learnt that his lord lodges at the house of the curial Venustus; hard by the Temple of Diana. 'Go thither at once, and beg him, if his leisure serve, to come to me. I would go myself; but, if he have seen Sagaris, he may be already on the way here. And so it proved, for in a very few minutes Marcian himself entered the room.
Did Sagaris divine who the veiled lady was? From the bishop's man he could not have learned it, they themselves, as the bishop had assured Marcian, being totally ignorant in the matter. If he guessed the truth, as was likely enough after all the talk he had heard concerning Veranilda, was it a danger? Had Sagaris any motive for treachery?
'What do they say? asked Basil with unnatural self-control. 'They speak of her happy mien and gay talk, of her walking with my lord in private. But I know nothing. Basil kept his eyes down for a long minute, then moved like one who has taken a resolve. 'Show me the letter you bear, he commanded. Sagaris produced it, and having looked at the seal, Basil silently handed it back again.
Only now did their move in him a natural horror when he thought of the death of Marcian, a natural distress when he remembered his bearing to Veranilda. Only now could he see in the light of reason all that had happened between his talk with Sagaris at Aesernia and his riding away with Venantius from the villa on the island.
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