The eldest of our travellers gazed constantly towards heaven or into the distance; the second, a slave who carried rugs and cloaks on his broad shoulders, never took his eyes off his master; and the third, a young, free-man, looked wearily and dreamily down the road.
A broad path, leading to a stately temple, crossed that which led from the summit of the mountain to the coast, and the bearded pedestrian turned up it; but he followed it only for a few steps, then he turned his head with a dissatisfied air, muttered a few unintelligible words into his beard, turned round and hastily retraced his steps to the narrow way, down which he went towards the valley. His young companion followed him without raising his head or interrupting his reverie, as if he were his shadow, but the slave lifted his cropped fair head and a stolen smile crossed his lips as on the left hand side of the Kasius road he caught sight of a black kid, and close beside it an old woman who, at the approach of the three men covered her wrinkled face in alarm with her dark blue veil.
That is the reason then! said the slave to himself with a nod, and blowing a kiss into the air to a black-haired girl who crouched at the old womans feet. But she, for whom the greeting was intended, did not observe this mute courtship, for her eyes followed the travellers, and especially the young man, as if spellbound. As soon as the three were far enough off not to hear her, the girl asked with a shiver, as if some desert-spectre had passed by-and in a low voice Grandmother, who was that?
The old woman raised her veil, laid her hand on her grandchilds mouth, and whispered:
It was he.
The Emperor?
The old woman answered with a significant nod, but the girl squeezed herself up, against her grandmother, with vehement curiosity stretching out her dusky head to see better, and asked softly: The young one?
Silly child! the one in front with a grey beard.
He? Oh, I wish the young one was the Emperor!
It was in fact Hadrian, the Roman Emperor, who walked on in silence before his escort, and it seemed as though his advent had given life to the desert, for as he approached the reed-swamp, the kites flew up in the air, and from behind a sand-hill on the edge of the broader road which Hadrian had avoided, came two men in priestly robes. They both belonged to the temple of Baal of Kariotis, a small structure of solid stone, which faced the sea, and which the Emperor had yesterday visited.
Do you think he has lost his way? said one to the other, in the Phoenician tongue.
Hardly, was the answer. Master said that he could always find a road again by which he had once gone, even in the dark.
And yet he is gazing more at the clouds than at the road.
Still, he promised us yesterday.
He promised nothing for certain, interrupted the other.
Indeed he did; at parting he called outand I heard him distinctly: Perhaps I shall return and consult your oracle.
Perhaps.
I think he said probably.
Who knows whether some sign he has seen up in the sky may not have turned him back; he is going to the camp by the sea.
But the banquet is standing ready for him in our great hall.
He will find what he needs down there. Come, it is a wretched morning, and I am being frozen.
Wait a little longer-look there.
What?
He does not even wear a hat to cover his grey hair.
He has never yet been seen to travel with anything on his head.
And his grey cloak is not very imperial looking.
He always wears the purple at a banquet.
Do you know who his walk and appearance remind me of?
Who?
Of our late high-priest, Abibaal; he used to walk in that ponderous, meditative way, and wear a beard like the Emperors.
Yes, yesand had the same piercing grey eye.
He too used often to gaze up at the sky. They have both the same broad forehead, too; but Abibaals nose was more aquiline, and his hair curled less closely.
And our governors mouth was grave and dignified, while Hadrians lips twitch and curl at all he says and hears, as if he were laughing at it all.
Look, he is speaking now to his favoriteAntonius I think they call the pretty boy.
Antinous, not Antonius. He picked him up in Bithynia, they say.
He is a beautiful youth.
Incomparably beautiful! What a figure and what a face! Still, I cannot wish that he were my son.
The Emperors favorite!
For that very reason. Why, he looks already as if he had tried every pleasure, and could never know any farther enjoyment.
On a little level close to the sea-shore, and sheltered by crumbling cliffs from the east wind, stood a number of tents. Between them fires were burning, round which were gathered groups of Roman soldiers and imperial servants. Half-naked boys, the children of the fishermen and camel-drivers who dwelt in this wilderness, were running busily hither and thither, feeding the flames with dry stems of sea-grass and dead desert-shrubs; but though the blaze flew high, the smoke did not rise; but driven here and there by the squalls of wind, swirled about close to the ground in little clouds, like a flock of scattered sheep. It seemed as though it feared to rise in the grey, damp, uninviting atmosphere. The largest of the tents, in front of which Roman sentinels paced up and down, two and two, on guard, was wide open on the side towards the sea. The slaves who came out of the broad door-way with trays on their cropped heads-loaded with gold and silver vessels, plates, wine-jars, goblets, and the remains of a meal had to hold them tightly with both hands that they might not be blown over.
The inside of the tent was absolutely unadorned. The Emperor lay on a couch near the right wall, which was blown in and bulged by the wind; his bloodless lips were tightly set, his arms crossed over his breast, and his eyes half closed. But he was not asleep, for he often opened his mouth and smacked his lips, as if tasting the flavor of some viand. From time to time he raised his eyelidslong, finely wrinkled, and blue-veinedturning his eyes up to heaven or rolling them to one side and then downwards towards the middle of the tent. There, on the skin of a huge bear trimmed with blue cloth, lay Hadrians favorite Antinous. His beautiful head rested on that of the beast, which had been slain by his sovereign, and its skull and skin skilfully preserved, his right leg, supported on his left knee, he flourished freely in the air, and his hands were caressing the Emperors bloodhound, which had laid its sage-looking head on the boys broad, bare breast, and now and then tried to lick his soft lips to show its affection. But this the youth would not allow; he playfully held the beasts muzzle close with his hands or wrapped its head in the end of his mantle, which had slipped back from his shoulders.
The dog seemed to enjoy the game, but once when Antinous had drawn the cloak more tightly round its head and it strove in vain to be free from the cloth that impeded its breathing, it set up a loud howl, and this doleful cry made the Emperor change his attitude and cast a glance of displeasure at the boy lying on the bear-skin, but only a glance, not a word of blame. And soon the expression, even of his eyes, changed, and he fixed them on the ladss figure with a gaze of loving contemplation, as though it were some noble work of art that he could never tire of admiring. And truly the Immortals had moulded this child of man to such a type; every muscle of that throat, that chest, those arms and legs was a marvel of softness and of power; no human countenance could be more regularly chiselled. Antinous observing that his masters attention had been attracted to his play with the dog, let the animal go and turned his large, but not very brilliant, eyes on the Emperor.