A Thorny Path — Complete

  CHAPTER XXXII.

  While Alexander, well nursed by old Argutis and Johanna, lay in highfever, raving in his delirium of Agatha and his brother Philip,and still oftener calling for his sister, Melissa was alone in herhiding-place. It was spacious enough, indeed, for she was concealedin the rooms prepared to receive the Exoterics before the mysteries ofSerapis. A whole suite of apartments, sleeping-rooms and halls, weredevoted to their use, extending all across the building from east towest. Some of these were square, others round or polygonal, but mostof them much longer than they were wide. Painters and sculptors hadeverywhere covered the walls with pictures in color and in high relief,calculated to terrify or bewilder the uninitiated. The statues, of whichthere were many, bore strange symbols, the mosaic flooring was coveredwith images intended to excite the fancy and the fears of the beholder.

  When Melissa first entered her little sleeping room, darkness hadconcealed all this from her gaze. She had been only too glad to obey thematron's bidding and go to rest at once. Euryale had remained with hersome time, sitting on the edge of the bed to hear all that had happenedto the girl during the last few hours, and she had impressed on her howshe should conduct herself in case of her hiding-place being searched.

  When she presently bade her good-night, Melissa repeated what thewaiting-woman Johanna had told her of the life of Jesus Christ; but sheexpressed her interest in the person of the Redeemer in such a strangeand heathen fashion that Euryale only regretted that she could not atonce enlighten the exhausted girl. With a hearty kiss she left her torest, and Melissa was no sooner alone than sleep closed her weary youngeyes.

  It was near morning when she fell asleep; and when she awoke, accustomedas she was to early hours, she was startled to see how much of the daywas spent. So she rose hastily, and then perceived that the lady Euryalemust already have come to see her, for she found fresh milk by thebedside, and some rolls of manuscript which had not been there the daybefore. Her first thought was for her imperiled relatives--her father,her brothers, her lover--and she prayed for each, appealing first tothe manes of her mother, and then to mighty Serapis and kindly Isis, whowould surely hear her in these precincts dedicate to them.

  The danger of those she loved made her forget her own, and she vividlypictured to herself what might be happening to each, what each one mightbe doing to protect her and save her from the spies of the despot, whoby this time must have received her missive. Still, the doubt whetherhe might not, after all, be magnanimous and forgive her, rose again andagain to her mind, though everything led her to think it impossible.

  During her prayer and in her care for the others she had felt reasonablycalm; but at the first thought of Caesar a painful agitation tookpossession of her soul, and to overcome it she began an inspection ofher spacious hiding-place, where the lady Euryale had prepared her to beamazed. And, indeed, it was not merely strange, but it filled her heartand mind with astonishment and terror. Wherever she looked, mysticfigures puzzled her; and Melissa turned from a picture in relief ofbeheaded figures with their feet in the air, and a representation of thedamned stewing in great caldrons and fanning themselves with diabolicalirony, only to see a painting of a female form over whose writhing bodyboats were sailing, or a four-headed ram, or birds with human headsflying away with a mummified corpse. On the ceiling, too, there wasstrange imagery; and when she looked at the floor to rest her bewilderedfancy, her eyes fell on a troop of furies pursuing the wicked, or a poolof fire by which horrible monsters kept guard.

  And all these pictures were not stiff and formal like Egyptiandecorative art, but executed by Greek artists with such liveliness andtruth that they seemed about to speak; and Melissa could have fanciedmany times that they were moving toward her from the ceiling or thewalls.

  If she remained here long, she thought she must go out of her mind; andyet she was attracted, here by a huge furnace on whose metal floorlarge masses of fuel seemed to be, and there by a pool of water withcrocodiles, frogs, tortoises, and shells, wrought in mosaic.

  Besides these and other similar objects, her curiosity was aroused bysome large chests in which book-rolls, strange vessels, and an endlessvariety of raiment of every shape and size were stored, from the simplechiton of the common laborer to the star-embroidered talar of the adept.

  Her protectress had told her that the mystics who desired to be admittedto the highest grades here passed through fire and water, and had to gothrough many ceremonies in various costumes. She had also informed herthat the uninitiated who desired to enter these rooms had to open threedoors, each of which, as it was closed, gave rise to a violent ringing;so that she might not venture to get away from the room, into which,however, she could bar herself. If the danger were pressing, there was adoor, known only to the initiated, which led to the steps and out of thebuilding. Her sleeping-place, happily, was not far from a windowlooking to the west, so that she was able to refresh her brain after thebewildering impressions which had crowded on her in the inner rooms.

  The paved roadway dividing the Serapeum from the stadium was at firstfairly crowded; but the chariots, horsemen, and foot-passengers on whoseheads she looked down from her high window interested her as little asthe wide inclosure of the stadium, part of which lay within sight.

  A race, no doubt, was to be held there this morning, for slaves wereraking the sand smooth, and hanging flowers about a dais, which was nodoubt intended for Caesar. Was it to be her fate to see the dreadful manfrom the place where she was hiding from him? Her heart began to beatfaster, and at the same time questions crowded on her excited brain,each bringing with it fresh anxiety for those she loved, of whom, tillnow, she had been thinking with calm reassurance.

  Whither had Alexander fled?

  Had her father and Philip succeeded in concealing themselves in thesculptor's work-room?

  Could Diodoros have escaped in time to reach the harbor with Polybiusand Praxilla?

  How had Argutis contrived that her letter should reach Caesar's handswithout too greatly imperiling himself?

  She was quite unconscious of any guilt toward Caracalla. There had been,indeed, a strong and strange attraction which had drawn her to him; evennow she was glad to have been of service to him, and to have helped himto endure the sufferings laid upon him by a cruel fate. But she couldnever be his. Her heart belonged to another, and this she had confessedin a letter--perhaps, indeed, too late. If he had a heart really capableof love, and had set it on her, he would no doubt think it hard that heshould have bestowed his affections on a girl who was already plightedto another, even when she first appeared before him as a suppliant,though deeply moved by pity; still, he had certainly no right to condemnher conduct. And this was her firm conviction.

  If her refusal roused his ire--if her father's prophecy andPhilostratus's fears must be verified, that his rage would involve manyothers besides herself in ruin, then--But here her thought broke offwith a shudder.

  Then she recalled the hour when she had been ready and willing to behis, to sacrifice love and happiness only to soften his wild mood andprotect others from his unbridled rage. Yes, she might have been hiswife by this time, if he himself had not proved to her that she couldnever gain such power over him as would control his sudden fits of fury,or obtain mercy for any victim of his cruelty. The murder of Vindexand his nephew had been the death-blow of this hope. She best knew howseriously she had come to the determination to give up every selfishclaim to future happiness in order that she might avert from others thehorrors which threatened them; and now, when she knew the history of theDivine Lord of the Christians, she told herself that she had acted atthat moment in a manner well-pleasing to that sublime Teacher. Still,her strong common sense assured her that to sacrifice the dearest andfondest wish of her heart in vain would not have been right and good,but foolish.

  The evil deeds which Caracalla was now preparing to commit he would havedone even if she were at his side. Of what small worth would she haveseemed to him, and to herself!--When this tyranny s
hould be overpast,when he should be gone to some other part of his immense empire, ifthose she loved were spared she could be happy--ah! so happy with theman to whom she had given her heart--as happy as she would have beenmiserable if she had become the victim to unceasing terrors as Caesar'swife.

  Euryale was right, and Fate, to which she had appealed, had decided wellfor her. That, the greatest conceivable sacrifice, would have been invain; for the sake of a ruthless tyrant's foul desire she would havebeen guilty of the basest breach of faith, have poisoned her lover'sheart and soul, and have wrecked his whole future life as well as herown. Away, then, with foolish doubts! Pythagoras was wise in warning heragainst torturing her heart. The die was cast. She and Caracalla mustgo on divergent roads, Her duty now was to fight for her own happinessagainst any who threatened it, and, above all, against the tyrant whohad compelled her, innocent as she was, to hide like a criminal.

  She was full of righteous wrath against the sanguinary persecutor, andholding her head high she went back into her sleeping-room to finishdressing. She moved more quickly than usual, for the bookrolls whichEuryale had laid by her bed while she was still asleep attracted her eyewith a suggestion of promise. Eager to know what their contents were,she took them up, drew a stool to the window, and tried to read.

  But many voices came up to her from outside, and when she looked downinto the road she saw troops of youths crowding into the stadium. Whatfine fellows they were, as they marched on, talking and singing; and shesaid to herself that Diodoros and Alexander were taller even than mostof these, and would have been handsome among the handsomest! She amusedherself for some time with watching them; but when the last man hadentered the stadium, and they had formed in companies, she again took upthe rolls.

  One contained the gospel of Matthew and the other that of Luke.

  The first, beginning with the genealogy, gave her a string of strange,barbarous names which did not attract her; so she took up the roll ofLuke, and his simple narrative style at once charmed her. There weredifficulties in it, no doubt, and she skipped sundry unintelligiblepassages, but the second chapter captivated her attention. It spoke ofthe birth of the great Teacher whom the Christians worshiped as theirGod. Angels had announced to the shepherds in the field that great joyshould come on the whole world, because the Saviour was born; andthis Saviour and Redeemer was no hero, no sage, but a child wrapped inswaddling-clothes and lying in a manger.

  At this she smiled, for she loved little children, and had long knownno greater pleasure than to play with them and help them. How manydelightful hours did she owe to the grandchildren of their neighborSkopas!

  And this child, hailed at its birth by a choir of angels, had becomea God in whom many believed! and the words of the angels' chant were:"Glory to God on high, and on earth peace, good-will toward men!"

  How great and good it sounded! With eager excitement she fastened therolls together, and on her features was depicted impatient longing toput an end to an intolerable state of things, as she exclaimed, thoughthere was no one but herself to hear: "Ay, peace, salvation, good-will!Not this hatred, this thirst for revenge, this blood, this persecution,and, as their hideous fruit, this terror, these horrible, cruel fears--"

  Here she was interrupted by the clatter of arms and rapping of hammerswhich came up from below. Caesar's Macedonian guard and other infantrytroops were silently coming up in companies and vanishing into theside-doors which led to the upper tiers of the stadium. What could thismean? Meanwhile carpenters were busy fastening up the chief entrancewith wooden beams. It looked like closing up sluice-gates to hinder theinvasion of a high tide. But the stadium was already full of men. Shehad seen thousands of youths march in, and there they stood in closeranks in the arena below her. Besides these, there were now an immensenumber of soldiers. They must all get out again presently, and what acrush there would be in the side exits if the vomitorium were closed!She longed to call down, to warn the carpenters of the folly of theiract. Or was it that the youth of the town were to be pent into thestadium to hear some new and more severe decree, while some of the morerefractory were secured?

  It must be so. What a shame!

  Then came a few vexilla of Numidian troopers at a slow pace. At theirhead, on a particularly high horse, rode the legate, a very tall man.He glanced up to the side where she was, and Melissa recognized theEgyptian Zminis. At this her hand sought the place of her heart, for shefelt as though it had ceased to beat. What! This wretch, the deadlyfoe of her father and brother, here, at the head of the Roman troops?Something horrible, impossible, must be about to happen!

  The sun was mirrored in the shining coat of his horse, and in thelictor's axe he bore, carrying it like a commander's staff. He raised itonce, twice, and, high as she was above him, she could see how sharp thecontrast was between the yellow whites of his eyes and the swarthy colorof his face.

  Now, for the third time, the bright steel of the axe flashed in thesunshine, and immediately after trumpet-calls sounded and were repeatedat short intervals, which still, to her, seemed intolerably long. HowMelissa had presence of mind enough to count them she knew not, but shedid. At the seventh all was still, and soon after a short blast on thetuba rang out from above, below, and from all sides of the stadium. Eachwent like an arrow to the heart of the anxious, breathless girl. Fromthe moment when she had seen Zminis she had expected the worst, but thecry of rage and despair from a thousand voices which now split herear told her how far the incredible reality outdid her most horribleimaginings.

  Breathless, and with a throbbing brain, she leaned out as far as shecould, and neither felt the burning sun-which was now beginning to fallon the western face of the temple--nor heeded the risk of being seen andinvolving herself and her protectress in ruin. Trembling like a gazellein a frosty winter's night, she would gladly have withdrawn from thewindow, but she felt as if some spell held her there. She longed to shuther ears and eyes, but she could not help looking on. Her every instinctprompted her to shriek for help, but she could not utter a sound.

  There she stood, seeing and hearing, and her low moaning changed to thatlaughter which anguish borrows from gladness when it has exhausted allforms of expression. At last she sank on her knees on the floor, andwhile she shed tears of pain still laughed shrilly, till she understoodwith sudden horror what was happening. She started violently; a sobconvulsed her bosom; she wept and wept, and these tears did her good.

  When, at one in the afternoon, the sun fell full on her window, shehad not yet found strength to move. A flood of bright light, in whichwhirled millions of motes, danced before her eyes; and as her breathsent the atoms flying, it passed through her mind that at this verymoment the reprobate utterance of a madman's lips was blowing happiness,joy, peace, and hope out of the lives of many thousands--blowing theminto nothingness, like the blast of a storm.

  Then she commanded herself, for the horrible scene before her threatenedto stamp itself on her eye like the image her father could engrave onan onyx; and she must avoid that, or give up all hope of ever beinglight-hearted again. Hardly an hour since she had seen the arena lookinglike a basket of fresh flowers, full of splendid, youthful men. Then thewarriors of the Macedonian phalanx had taken their places on thelong ranks of seats on which she looked down, with several cohortsof archers, brown Numidians and black Ethiopians, like inquisitivespectators of the expected show--but all in full armor. At firstthe youths and men had formed in companies, with singing, talk, andlaughter, and here and there a satirical chant; but presently therehad been squabbles with the town-watch, and while the younger and morecareless still were gay enough, whole companies on the other hand hadlooked up indignantly at the Romans; some had anxiously questioned eachother's eyes, or stared down in sullen dismay at the sand.

  The hot, seething blood of these men--the sons of a free city,and accustomed to a life of rapid action in hard work and frenziedenjoyment--took the delay very much amiss; and when it was rumored thatthe doors were being locked, impatience and distrust fo
und emphaticutterance. Timid whistling and other expressions of disapproval had beenfollowed by louder demonstrations, for to be locked up was intolerable.But the lictors and guards took no notice, after removing the member ofthe Museum who had perpetrated the epigram on Caesar's mother. This one,who had certainly gone too far, was to pay for all, it would seem.

  Then the trumpets sounded, and the most heedless of the troop of youthsbegan to feel acute anxiety and alarm. From her high post of observationMelissa could see that, although the appearance of Zminis on the scenehad caused a fever of agitation, they now broke their serried squares,wandered about as if undecided what to do, but prepared for the worst,and turned their curly heads now to this side and now to that, till thetrumpetblast from the seats attracted every eye upward, and the butcherybegan.

  Did the cry, "Stop, wretches!" really break from Melissa's lips, or hadshe only intended to shout it down to the people in the stadium? She didnot know; but as she recollected the long rank of Numidians who, quickas lightning, lifted their curved bows and sent a shower of arrows downon the defenseless lads in the arena, she felt as though she had againshrieked out: "Stop!" Then it seemed as though a storm of wind had tornthousands of straight boughs with metallic leaves that flashed in thesunshine from some huge invisible tree, and flung them into the arena;and, as her eve followed their fall, she could have fancied that shelooked on a corn-field beaten down by a terrific hail-storm; but theboughs and leaves were lances and arrows, and each ear of corn cut downwas a young and promising human being.

  Zminis's preposterous suggestion had been acted on. Caracalla wasavenged on the youth of Alexandria.

  Not a tongue could wag now in abuse; every pair of young lips whichhad dared utter a scornful cry or purse up to whistle at the sight ofCaesar, was silenced forever-and, with the few guilty, a hundred timesmore who were innocent. She knew now why the great gate had been barredwith beams, and why the troop had entered by the side-doors. The sceneof the brilliant display had become a lake of blood, full of the deadand dying. Death had invaded the rows of seats; instead of laurelwreaths and prizes, deadly weapons were showered down into the arena.It seemed now as though the sun, with its blinding radiance, weremercifully fain to hinder the human eye from looking down on thehorrible picture. To avoid the sickening sight. Melissa closed her eyesand dragged herself to her feet with an effort, to hide herself she knewnot where.

  But again there was a flourish of trumpets and loud acclamations, andagain an irresistible power dragged her to the window.

  A splendid quadriga had stopped at the gate of the stadium, surroundedby courtiers and guards. It was Caracalla's, for Pandion held the reins.Could Caracalla approve of this most horrible crime, organized by thewretch Zminis, by appearing on the scene; or might it not be that, inhis wrath at the bloodthirsty zeal of his vile tool, he had come todismiss him?

  She hoped it was this; and, at any cost, she must know the truth as tothis question, which was not based on mere curiosity. Holding one handto her wildly beating heart, she looked across the bloodstained arenato the rows of seats and the dais decorated for Caesar. There stoodCaracalla, with the Egyptian at his side, pointing down at the arenawith his finger. And what was to be seen on the spot he indicated wasso horrible that she again shut her eyes, and this time she even coveredthem with her hands. But she would and must see, and once more shelooked across; and the man whose assurances she had once believed, thatit was only his care for the throne and state and the compulsion ofcruel fate which had ever made him shed blood--that man was standingside by side with the vile, ruthless spy whose tall figure towered farabove his master's. His hand lay on the villain's arm, his eye rested onthe corpse-strewn arena beneath; and now he raised his head, he turnedhis face, whose look of suffering had once moved her soul, towardher--and he laughed--she could see every feature--laughed so loud,so heartily, so gleefully, as she had never before seen him laugh. Helaughed till his whole body and shoulders shook. Now he took his handfrom the Egyptian's arm and pointed to the dead lying at his feet.

  As she saw that laugh, of which she could not hear a sound, Melissafelt as though a hyena had yelled in her ear, and, yielding to anirresistible impulse, she looked down once more at the destruction ofyouthful life and happiness which had been wrought in one short hour--atthe stream of blood after which so many bitter tears must flow. Thesight indeed cut her to the heart, and yet she was thankful for it; forthe first time the reckless cruelty of that laughing monster was evidentin all its naked atrocity. Horror, aversion, loathing for that man towhom everything but power, cruelty, and cunning, was as nothing, leftno room for fear or pity, or even the least shade of self-reproach forhaving aroused in him a desire which she could not gratify.

  She clenched her little fists, and, without vouchsafing another glanceat the detestable butcher who had dared to cast his eyes on her, shewithdrew from the window and cried out aloud, though startled at thesound of her own voice: "The time, the time! It is fulfilled for himthis day!"

  And how her eyes flashed and her bosom heaved and fell! With what afirm step did she pace the long suite of rooms, while the conviction wasborne in on her that this deed of the vile assassin in the purple mustbring the day of salvation and peace nearer--that day of which Andreasdreamed! As in her silent walk she passed the book-rolls which the ladyEuryale had so quietly laid by her bedside, she took up the glad messageof Luke with enthusiastic excitement, held it on high, and shouted theangels' greeting which had impressed itself on her memory out of thewindow, as though she longed that Caracalla should hear it--"Peace onearth and good-will toward men!"

  Then she resumed her walk through the rooms of the heathen mystics,repeating to herself all the comfortable words she had ever heard fromEuryale and the freedman Andreas. The image of the divine Lord, whohad come to bestow love on the world, and seal his sublime doctrineby sacrificing his life, rose up before her soul, and all that theChristian Johanna had told her of him made the picture clear, till hestood plainly before her, beautiful and gentle, in a halo of love andkindness, and yet strong and noble, for the crucified One was a heroicSaviour.

  At this she remembered with satisfaction the struggle she herselfhad fought, and her comfort when she had decided to sacrifice her ownhappiness to save others from sorrow. She now resolutely grasped thelady Euryale's book-rolls, for they contained the key to the innerchambers of the wondrous structure into whose forecourt life itself andher own intimate experience had led her. She was soon sitting with herback to the window, and unrolled the gospel of Matthew till she came tothe first sentence which Euryale had marked for her with a red line.

  Melissa was too restless to read straight on; as impatient as a childwho finds itself for the first time in a garden which its parents havebought, she rushed from one tempting passage to another, applyingeach to herself, to those whom she loved, or in another sense to thedisturber of her peace.

  With a joyful heart she now believed the promise which at first hadstaggered her, that the Kingdom of Heaven was at hand.

  But her eye ran swiftly over the open roll, and was attracted by amark drawing her attention to a whole chapter. She there read how JesusChrist had gone up on to a mountain to address the vast multitude whofollowed him. He spoke of the kingdom of heaven, and of who those werethat should be suffered to enter there. First, they were the poor inspirit--and she no doubt was one of those. Among those who were rich inspirit her brother Philip was certainly one of the richest, and whitherhad an acute understanding and restless brain led him that they soseldom gave his feelings time to make themselves heard?

  Then the mourners were to be comforted. Oh, that she could have calledthe lady Berenike to her side and bid her participate in this promise!And the meek--well, they might come to power perhaps after the downfallof the wretch who had flooded the world with blood, and who, of all menon earth, was the farthest removed from the spirit which gazed at herfrom this scripture, so mild and genial. Of those who hungered andthirsted after righteousness she again was one: the
y should be filled,and the lady Euryale and Andreas had already loaded the board for her.

  The merciful, she read, should obtain mercy; and she, if any one, hada right to regard herself as a peacemaker: thus to her was the promisethat she should be called one of the children of God.

  But at the next verse she drew herself up, and her face was radiant withjoy, for it seemed to have been written expressly for her; nay, to findit here struck her as a marvel of good fortune, for there stood thewords: "Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake:for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are ye when men shallrevile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil againstyou."

  All these things had come upon her in these last days-though not,indeed, for the sake of Jesus Christ and righteousness, but only forthe sake of those she loved; yet she would have been ready to endure theworst.

  And the hapless victims in the arena! Might not the promised bliss awaitthem too? Oh, how gladly would she have bestowed on them the fairestreward! And if this should indeed be their lot after death, where wasthe revenge of their bloodthirsty murderer?

  Oh, that her mother were still alive--that she, Melissa, had beenpermitted to share this great consolation with her! In a briefaspiration she uplifted her soul to the beloved dead, and as she furtherunrolled the manuscript her eye fell on the words: "Love your enemies;bless them that curse you, and do good to them that hate you." No,she could not do this; this seemed to her to be too much to ask; evenAndreas had not attained to this; and yet it must be good and lovely,if only because it helped to cement the peace for which she longed morefervently than for any other blessing.

  Next she read: "For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged,"and she shuddered as she thought of the future fate of the man who hadby treachery brought murder and death on an industrious and flourishingcity as a punishment for the light words and jests of a few mockers, andthe disappointment he had suffered from an insignificant girl.

  But then, again, she breathed more freely, for she read: "Ask, and itshall be given unto you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall beopened." Could there be a more precious promise? And to her, she felt,it was already fulfilled; for her trembling finger had, as it were, butjust touched the door, and, to! it stood open before her, and that whichshe had so long sought she had now found. But it was quite natural thatit should be so, for the God of the Christians loved those who turned tohim as His own children. Here it was written why those who asked shouldreceive, and those who sought should find: "For what man is there of youwhom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone?"

  If it were only as a peacemaker, she was already a child of Him who hadasked this, and she might look for none but good gifts from Him. Andwhat was commanded immediately after seemed to her so simple, so easyto obey, and yet so wise. She thought it over a little, and saw thatin this precept--of which it was said that it was all the law and theprophets--there was in fact a rule which, if it were obeyed, mustkeep all mankind guiltless, and make every one happy. These words, shethought, should be written over every door and on every heart, as thewinged sun was placed over every Egyptian temple gate, so that no oneshould ever forget them for an instant. She herself would bear them inmind, and she repeated them to herself in an undertone, "Whatsoeverye would that men should do unto you, even so do unto them." Her eyewandered to the window and out to the stadium. How happy might the worldbe under a sovereign who should obey that law! And Caracalla?--No, shewould not allow the contentment which filled her to be troubled by athought of him.

  With a hasty gesture she placed the ivory rod which she had found inthe middle of the roll so as to flatten it out, and her eye fell on thewords, "Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy-laden, and Iwill give you rest." To her, if to any one, was this glorious biddingaddressed, for few had a heavier burden to bear. But indeed she alreadyfelt it lighter, after the terrors she had gone through on the veryverge of despair; and now, even though she was still surrounded bydangers, she was far from feeling oppressed or terrified. Now her heartbeat higher with hopeful gladness, and she was full of fervent gratitudeas she told herself with lively and confident assurance that she hadfound a new guide, and, holding His loving and powerful hand, could walkin the way in safety. She felt as though some beloved hand had given hera vial of precious medicine that would cure every disease, when she hadlearned this verse, too, by heart. She would never forget the friendlypromise and invitation that lay in those words. And to Alexander,at least--poor, conscience-stricken Alexander--they might bring somecomfort, if not to her father and Philip, since the call of the Son ofGod was addressed to him too. And she looked as happy as though she hadheard something to rejoice her heart and soul. Her red lips parted oncemore, showing the two white teeth which were never to be seen but whenshe smiled and some real happiness stirred her soul.

  She fancied she was alone, but, even while she was reading the wordsin which the Saviour called to him the weary and heavy-laden, thelady Euryale had noiselessly opened a secret door leading to Melissa'shiding-place, known only to herself and her husband, and had come closeto her. She now stood watching the girl with surprise and astonishment,for she had expected to find her beside herself, desperate, and morethan ever needing comfort and soothing. The unhappy girl must have beendrawn to the window by the cries of the massacred, and at least haveglanced at the revolting scene in the stadium. She would have thoughtit more natural if she had found Melissa overcome by the horrors she hadwitnessed, half distraught or paralyzed by distress and rage. And theresat the young creature, whom she knew to be soft-hearted and gentle,smiling and with beaming eyes--though those eyes must have rested on themost hideous spectacle--looking as though the roll in her lap were thefirst enchanting raptures of a lover. The book lying on Melissa's kneeswas the gospel of Matthew, which she herself early this morning, whilethe girl was still sleeping, had laid by her side to comfort her andgive her some insight into the blessings of Christianity. But thesescriptures, so sacred to Euryale, had seemed to count for less thannothing to this heathen girl, the sister of Philip the skeptic.

  Euryale loved Melissa, but far dearer to her was the book to whoseall-important contents the maiden seemed to have closed her heart incoldness.

  It was for Melissa's sake that, when the high-priest's dwelling wassearched by the new magistrate's spies from cellar to garret, she hadpatiently submitted to her husband's hard words. She had liked to thinkthat she might bring this girl as a pure white lamb into the fold of theGood Shepherd, who to herself was so dear, and through whom her saddenedlife had found new charm, her broken heart new joys. A few hours sinceshe had assured her friend Origen that she had found a young Greek whowould prove to him that a heathen who had gone through the school ofsuffering with a pure and compassionate heart needed but a sign, a wordof flame, to recognize at once the beatitude of Christianity and longto be baptized. And here she discovered the maiden of whom she had suchfair hopes, with a smile on her lips and beaming looks, while so manyinnocent men were being slaughtered, as though this were a joy to her!

  What had become of the girl's soft, tender heart, which but yesterdayhad been ready for self-sacrifice if only she might secure thewell-being of those she loved? Was she, Euryale, in her dotage, that shecould be so deceived by a child?

  Her heart beat faster with disappointment; and yet she would not condemnthe sinner unheard. So, with a swift impulse she took the roll up fromMelissa's lap, and her voice was sorrowful rather than severe as sheexclaimed:

  "I had hoped, my child, that these scriptures might prove to you, as toso many before you, a key to open the gates of eternal truth. I thoughtthat they would comfort you, and teach you to love the sublime Beingwhose exemplary life and pathetic death are no longer unknown toyou, since Johanna told you the tale. Nay, I believed that they mightpresently arouse in you the desire to join us who--"

  But here she stopped, for Melissa had fallen on her neck, and whileEuryale, much amazed, tried to release herself from her e
mbrace, thegirl cried out, half laughing and half in tears:

  "It has all come about as you expected! I will live and die faithfulto that sublime Saviour, whom I love. I am one of you--yes, mother,now--even before the baptism I long for. For I was weary and heavy-ladenabove any, and the word of the Lord hath refreshed me. This book hastaught me that there is but one path to true happiness, and it is thatwhich is shown us by Jesus Christ. O lady, how much fairer would ourlife on earth be if what is written here concerning blessedness werestamped on every heart! I feel as though in this hour I had been bornagain. I do not know myself; and how is it possible that a poor child ofman, in such fearful straits and peril as I, and after such a scene ofhorror, should feel so thankful and so full of the purest gladness?"

  The matron clasped her closely in her arms, and her tears bedewed thegirl's face while she kissed her again and again; and the cheerfulnesswhich had just now hurt her so deeply she now regarded as a beautifulmiracle.

  Her time was limited, for she was watched; and she had seized thehalf-hour during which the townguard had been mustered in the square toreport progress. So Melissa had to be brief, and in a few hasty wordsshe told her friend all that she had seen and heard from her highwindow, and how the gospel of Matthew had been to her glad tidings; howit had given her comfort and filled her soul with infinite happiness inthis the most terrible hour of her life. At this, Euryale also forgotthe horrors which surrounded them, till Melissa called her back to thedreadful present; for, with bowed head and in deep anxiety, she desiredto know whether her friend knew anything of her relations and Diodoros.

  The matron had a painful struggle with herself. It grieved her toinflict anxiety on Melissa's heart, as she stood before her eyes likeone of the maidens robed in white and going to be baptized, to whompresents were given on the festive occasion, and who were carefullysheltered from all that could disturb them and destroy the silent, holyjoy of their souls. And yet the question must be answered: so she saidthat of the other two she knew nothing, any more than of Berenike andDiodoros, but that of Philip she had bad news. He was a noble man, and,notwithstanding his errors in the search after truth, well worthyof pity. At this, Melissa in great alarm begged to be told what hadhappened to her brother, and the lady Euryale confessed that he nolonger walked among the living, but she did not relate the manner of hisdeath; and she bade the weeping girl to seek for comfort from the Friendof all who grieve and whom she now knew; but to keep herself preparedfor the worst, in full assurance that none are tried beyond what theyare able to bear, for that the fury of the bloodthirsty tyrant hung likea black cloud over Alexandria and its inhabitants. She herself, merelyby coming to Melissa, exposed herself to great danger, and she could notsee her again till the morrow. To Melissa's inquiry as to whether itwas her refusal to be his which had brought such a fearful fate on theinnocent youth of Alexandria, Euryale could reply in the negative; forshe had heard from her husband that it was a foul epigram written by apupil of the Museum which had led to Caesar's outbreak of rage.

  With a few soothing words she pointed to a basket of food which shehad brought with her, showed the girl once more the secret door, andembraced her at parting as fondly as though Heaven had restored to herin Melissa the daughter she had lost.