




                                  NEAERA

                          A TALE OF ANCIENT ROME



 _This Edition is intended for circulation only in India and the British
                                Colonies._





                      Macmillan's Colonial Library

                                  NEAERA

                          A TALE OF ANCIENT ROME



                                   BY
                              JOHN W. GRAHAM


London
MACMILLAN AND CO.
AND NEW YORK
1887
No. 33

[All rights reserved.]





                                 CONTENTS


PART I
   CHAPTER I.
   CHAPTER II.
   CHAPTER III.
   CHAPTER IV.
   CHAPTER V.
   CHAPTER VI.
   CHAPTER VII.
   CHAPTER VIII.
   CHAPTER IX.
   CHAPTER X.
   CHAPTER XI.
PART II
   CHAPTER I.
   CHAPTER II.
   CHAPTER III.
   CHAPTER IV.
   CHAPTER V.
   CHAPTER VI.
   CHAPTER VII.
   CHAPTER VIII.
   CHAPTER IX.
   CHAPTER X.
   CHAPTER XI.
   CHAPTER XII.
   CHAPTER XIII.
   CHAPTER XIV.
   CHAPTER XV.
   CHAPTER XVI.
   CHAPTER XVII.
   CHAPTER XVIII.
   CHAPTER XIX.
   CHAPTER XX.
   CHAPTER XXI.
   CHAPTER XXII.
   CHAPTER XXIII.
   CHAPTER XXIV.
   CHAPTER XXV.
PART III.
   CHAPTER I.
   CHAPTER II.
   CHAPTER III.
   CHAPTER IV.
SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.
Macmillan's Colonial Library.
Footnotes
Transcriber's Note






                                  PART I


                                  NEAERA




                                CHAPTER I.


Anno Domini Twenty-six, Tiberius Caesar, the ruler of the world, left
Rome, with a small retinue, never to return. In the following year he
arrived at the island of Capreae, and there took up his permanent abode.
It was a spot which already possessed substantial proofs of imperial
favour, in the shape of villas, baths, and aqueducts built by the orders
of the Emperor Augustus. It well merited the partiality displayed, for
there are few places to be found more favoured by nature, in point of
situation, than this small, lofty, iron-bound mountain-island of Capreae.

Opposite, at a distance of three miles, approaches the tip of a sharp
promontory of the mainland, which divides two bays curving away on either
hand. That on the north, from the earliest times, has had the reputation
of being the loveliest in the world. That on the south, although not
comparable, has yet considerable beauty. Capreae, therefore, stands aloof
amid the blue waters, at the apex of these two semicircles, surveying both
from its lofty mountain and sheer cliffs.

Why the Emperor Tiberius left Rome and secluded himself, for the remainder
of his life, in this small island, away from the seat of his empire, has
never, with certainty, been explained. Whether it was for political
reasons, or for the purpose of giving full indulgence to those vicious
habits which rumour so freely ascribed to him, is not within the scope of
these pages to be determined. He hastened to continue to his new home
those same marks of favour which his deified predecessor had begun. Armies
of workmen assailed the summits of the cone-like hills and wave-washed
cliffs. New villa-palaces arose on every hand, so that the narrow limits
of the island hermitage might afford to Caesar the utmost variety
possible. Of the twelve projected villas, each named after a deity, some
three or four had been completed and occupied at the time of our story,
whilst the building of the remainder was actively proceeding. In the
autumn of the year thirty, the date of our story, Tiberius had hidden
himself away from his people for about three years, and, already, dark
rumours were flitting abroad of strange enormities and dread cruelties
shrouded in that outline of mountain amid the sea. The seclusion of the
imperial hermit was strictly preserved, and unauthorised feet were
jealously warned from his rocky retreat. Curiosity became more inflamed
and imagination more rampant. To turn the invisible Caesar into something
akin to an ogre or monster was an easy and natural outcome of the insular
mystery.

One thing, however, is certain, that, although lost, as the Emperor may be
said to have been, to the eyes of the world, the world and its affairs, in
turn, were never hidden from him. Caesar remained Caesar--sleepless, prompt
and vigorous amid his mysterious rocks. Day after day, couriers came and
went with tidings from every corner of the known world. The vast empire,
like a sprawling giant, had Capreae for its heart, which impelled the
life-blood ceaselessly to every extremity of its veins and arteries.

                              * * * * * * *

On an October morning, one of the long, swift boats, used in the imperial
despatch service, left the landing-place in the little Marina, on the
north side of Capreae, and shot away toward the barren promontory of
Minerva opposite.

The vessel was one of a number used for the busy service of communication
with the mainland, and was built on fine, sharp lines to attain high
speed. Plenty of power was lent by the brawny arms of a dozen stout
slaves, whose oars swept the craft along, with the gently rippling sea
foaming under its sharp bows. The morning was bright, and a delicious
autumn serenity softened mountain and sea with a mellow haze; so that in
default of a breeze to fill the large sail stowed neatly away under the
bulwarks, the rowers bent their backs with a will to their work.

There was one passenger on board--a young man with a soldierly air. He
seemed not more than two or three-and-twenty years of age, with large,
handsome, boldly-cut features, of the true Roman cast, and keen, dark
eyes. The expression of his face, something stern and proud in repose,
was, perhaps, heightened by