A Thorny Path — Complete

  CHAPTER XXXIII.

  Melissa was once more alone.

  She now knew that Philip walked no longer among the living. He musthave fallen a victim to the fury of the monster, but the thought that hemight have been slain for her sake left her mind no peace.

  She felt that with the death of this youth--so gifted, and so dear toher--a corner-stone had been torn from the paternal house.

  In the loving circle that surrounded her, death had made another gapwhich yawned before her, dismal and void.

  One storm more, and what was left standing would fall with the rest.

  Her tears flowed fast, and the torturing thought that the emperor hadslain her brother as a punishment for his sister's flight pierced her tothe heart.

  Now she belonged indeed to the afflicted and oppressed; and asyesterday, in the trouble of her soul, she had called upon Jesus Christ,though she scarcely knew of Him then, so now she lifted up her heart toHim who had become her friend, praying to Him to remember His promise ofcomfort when she came to Him weary and heavy-laden.

  And while she tried to realize the nature of the Saviour who had laiddown His life for others, she remembered all she had dared for herfather and brothers, and what fate had been her's during the time since;and she felt she might acknowledge to herself that even if Philip hadmet his death because of Caracalla's anger toward her, at any rate shewould never have approached Caesar had she not wanted to save her fatherand brothers. She had never glossed over any wrong-doing of her own; buther open and truthful nature was just as little inclined to the tormentof self-reproach when she was not absolutely certain of having committeda fault.

  In this case she was not quite sure of herself; but she now remembered asaying of Euryale and Andreas which she had not understood before. JesusChrist, it said, had taken upon Himself the sins of the world. If sheunderstood its meaning aright, the merciful Lord would surely forgiveher a sin which she had committed unwittingly and in no wise for herown advantage. Her prayer grew more and more to be a discourse with hernew-found friend; and, as she finished, she felt absolutely sure that Heat least understood her and was not angry with her. This reassured her,but her cheerfulness had fled, and she could read no more.

  Deeply troubled, and more and more distressed as time went on by newdisturbing thoughts, she hurriedly paced from side to side of the long,narrow chamber in the gathering darkness. The revolting images aroundher began to affect her unbearably once more. Near her chamber, to thewest, lay the race-course with its horrible scenes; so she turned to theeastern end that looked out upon the street of Hermes, where the sightcould scarcely be so terrible as from the windows at the opposite end.But she was mistaken; for, looking down upon the pavement, she perceivedthat this, too, swam with blood, and that the ground was covered withcorpses.

  Seized with a sudden horror, she flew back into the middle of the longroom. There she remained standing, for the scene of slaughter in thewest was still more appalling than that from which she had just fled.She could not help wondering who could here have fallen a victim to thetyrant after he had swept all the youth of the city off the face of theearth.

  The evening sun cast long shafts of golden light across the race-courseand in at the western window, and Melissa knew how quickly the nightfell in Alexandria. If she wished to find out who they were who had beensacrificed to the fury of the tyrant, it must be done at once, for theimmense building of the temple already cast long shadows. Determined toforce herself to look out, she walked quickly to the eastern window andgazed below. But it was some moments before she had the fortitude todistinguish one form from another; they melted before her reluctant eyesinto one repulsive mass.

  At last she succeeded in looking more calmly and critically.

  Not heaped on one another as on the racecourse, hundreds of Caracalla'svictims lay scattered separately over the open square as far as theentrance to the street of Hermes. Here lay an old man with a thickbeard, probably a Syrian or a Jew; there, his dress betraying him,a seaman; and farther on-no, she could not be mistaken--the youthfulcorpse that lay so motionless just beneath the window was that ofMyrtilos, a friend of Philip, and, like him, a member of the Museum.

  In a fresh fit of terror she was going to flee again into her dreadfulhiding-place, when she caught sight of a figure leaning against thebasin of the beautiful marble fountain just in front of the easternside-door of the Serapeum, and immediately below her. The figure moved,and could therefore only be wounded, not dead; and round the headwas bound a white cloth, reminding her of her beloved, and therebyattracting her attention. The youth moved again, turning his faceupward, and with a low cry she leaned farther forward and gazed andgazed, unmindful of the danger of being seen and falling a victim to thetyrant's fury. The wounded, living man-there, he had moved again--was noother than Diodoros, her lover!

  Till the last glimmer of light disappeared she stood at the windowwith bated breath, and eyes fixed upon him. No faintest movement of hisescaped her, and at each one, trembling with awakening hope, she thankedHeaven and prayed for his rescue. At length the growing darkness hidhim from her sight. With every instant the night deepened, and withoutthinking, without stopping to reflect--driven on by one absorbingthought--she felt her way back to her couch, beside which stood the lampand fire-stick, and lighted the wick; then, inspired with new courageat the thought of rescuing her lover from death, she considered for amoment what had best be done.

  It was easy for her to get out. She had a little money with her; on herpeplos she wore a clasp that had once belonged to her mother, withtwo gems in it from her father's hand, and on her rounded arm a goldencirclet. With these she could buy help. The only thing now was todisguise herself.

  On the great, smoke-blackened metal plate over which those mysticspassed who had to walk through fire, there lay plenty of charcoal, andyonder hung robes of every description. The next moment she had thrownoff her own, in order to blacken her glistening white limbs and her facewith soot. Among the sewing materials which the lady Euryale had laidbeside the scrolls was a pair of scissors. These the girl seized, andwith quick, remorseless hand cut off the long, thick locks that were herbrother's and her lover's delight. Then she chose out a chiton, which,reaching only to her knees, gave her the appearance of a boy. Her breathcame fast and her hands trembled, but she was already on her way to thesecret door through which she should flee from this place of horror,when she came to a standstill, shaking her head gently. She had lookedaround her, and the wild disorder she was leaving behind her in thelittle room went against her womanly feelings. But though this feelingwould not in itself have kept her back, it warned her to steady her mindbefore leaving the refuge her friend had accorded to her. Thoughtful,and accustomed to have regard for others, she realized at once howdangerous it might prove to Euryale if these unmistakable traces of herpresence there should be discovered by an enemy. The kindness of hermotherly friend should not bring misfortune upon her. With activepresence of mind she gathered up her garments from the floor, swept thelong locks of hair together, and threw them all, with the sewing and thebasket that had contained the food, into the stove on the hearth, andset them alight. The scissors she took with her as a weapon in case ofneed.

  Then, laying the books of the gospels beside the other manuscripts,and casting a last look round to assure herself that every sign of herpresence had been destroyed, she addressed one more prayer to the tenderComforter of the afflicted, who has promised to save those that are indanger.

  She then opened the secret door.

  With a beating heart, and yet far more conscious of the desire to saveher lover while there was yet time than of the danger into which she wasrushing headlong, she flitted down the hidden staircase as lightly as achild at play. So much time had been lost in clearing the room--and yetshe could not have left it so!

  She had not forgotten where to press, so that the heavy stone whichclosed the entrance should move aside; but as she sprang from the laststep her lamp had blown out, and blackest dark
ness concealed the surfaceof the smooth granite wall which lay between her and the street.

  What if, when she got outside, she should be seen by the lictors orspies?

  At this thought fear overcame her for the first time. As she felt aboutthe door her hands trembled and beads of perspiration stood upon herbrow. But she must go to her wounded lover! When any one was bleedingto death every moment might bring the terrible "too late." It meantDiodoros's death if she did not succeed in opening the granite slab.

  She took her hands from the stone and forced herself, with the wholestrength of her will, to be calm.

  Where had been the place by pressing which the granite might be moved?

  It must have been high up on the right side. She carefully followed withher fingers the groove in which the stone lay, and having recalled itsshape by her sense of touch, she began her search anew. Suddenly shefelt something beneath her finger-tips that was colder than the stone.She had found the metal bolt! With a deep breath, and without stoppingto think of what might be before her, she pressed the spring; the slabturned-one step-and she was in the street between the racecourse and theSerapeum.

  All was still around her. Not a sound was to be heard except fromthe square to the north of the temple, where all who carried arms hadgathered together to enjoy the wine which flowed in streams as a mark ofthe emperor's approbation, and from the inner circle of the race-coursevoices were audible. Of the citizens not one dared show himself in thestreets, although the butchery had ceased at sundown. All who did notcarry the imperial arms had shut themselves up in their houses, and thestreets and squares were deserted since the soldiers had assembled infront of the Serapeum.

  No one noticed Melissa. The dangers that threatened her from afartroubled her but little. She only knew that she must go on--go on asfast as her feet would carry her, if she were to reach her loved one intime.

  Skirting the south side of the temple, in order to get to the fountain,her chief thought was to keep in its shadow. The moon had not yet risen,and they had forgotten to light either the pitch-pans or the torcheswhich usually burned in front of the south facade of the temple. Theyhad been too busy with other matters to-day, and now they needed allhands in heaping the bodies together. The men whose voices soundedacross to her from the race-course had already begun the work. On--shemust hurry on!

  But it was not so easy as last night. Her light sandals were wetthrough, and there was ever a fresh impediment in her way. She knew whatit was that had wetted her foot--blood--noble, human blood--and everyobstacle against which she stumbled was a human body. But she would notlet herself dwell upon it, and hurried on as though they were but waterand stones, ever seeing before her the image of the wounded youth wholeaned against the basin.

  Thus she reached the east side of the temple. Already she could hearthe splashing of the fountain, she saw the marble gleaming through thedarkness, and began seeking for the spot where she had seen her lover.She suddenly stopped short; at the same time as herself, lights faintand bright were coming along from the south, from the entrance of thestreet that led to Rhakotis, and down to the water. She was in themiddle of the street, without a possibility of concealing herself exceptin one of the niches of the Serapeum.

  Should she abandon him? She must go on, and to seek protection in theouter wall of the temple meant turning back. So she stood still and heldher breath as she watched the advancing lights. Now they stopped. Sheheard the rattle of arms and men's voices. The lantern-bearers werebeing detained by the watch. They were the first soldiers she had seen,the others being engaged in drinking, or in the work on the race-course.Would the soldiers find her, too? But, no! They moved on, thetorch-bearers in front, toward the street of Hermes.

  Who were those people who went wandering about among the slain, turningfirst to this side and then to that, as if searching for something?

  They could not be robbing the dead, or the watch would have seized them.

  Now they came quite close to her, and she trembled with fright, for oneof them was a soldier. The light of the lantern shone upon his armor.He went before a man and two lads who were following a laden ass, andin one of them Melissa recognized with beating heart a garden slave ofPolybius, who had often done her a service.

  And now she took courage to look more closely at the man--and itwas--yes, even in the peasant's clothes he wore he could not deceive herquick eyes--it was Andreas!

  She felt that every breath that came from her young bosom must be aprayer of thanksgiving; nor was it long before the freedman recognizedMelissa in the light-footed black boy who seemed to spring from theearth in order to show them the way, and he, too, felt as if a miraclehad been wrought.

  Like fair flowers that spring up round a scaffold over which the hungryravens croak and hover, so here, in the midst of death and horror,joy and hope began to blossom in thankful hearts. Diodoros lived!No word-only a fleeting pressure of the hand and a quick look passedbetween the elderly man and the maiden--who looked like a boy scarcelypassed his school-days--to show what they felt as they knelt beside thewounded youth and bound up the deep gash in his shoulder dealt by thesword that had felled him.

  A little while afterward, Andreas drew from the basket which the asscarried, and from which he had already taken bandages and medicine, alight litter of matting. He then lifted Melissa on to the back of thebeast of burden, and they all moved onward.

  The sights that surrounded them as long as they were near the Serapeumforced her to close her eyes, especially when the ass had to walk roundsome obstruction, or when it and its guide waded through slimy pools.She could not forget that they were red, nor whence they came; and thisride brought her moments in which she thought to expire of shudderinghorror and sorrow and wrath.

  Not till they reached a quiet lane in Rhakotis, where they could advancewithout let or hindrance, did she open her eyes. But a strange, heavypain oppressed her that she had never felt before, and her head burnedso that she could scarcely see Andreas and the two slaves, who, strongin the joy of knowing that their young lord was alive, carried Diodorossteadily along in the litter. The soldier--it was the centurionMartialis, who had been banished to the Pontus--still accompanied them,but Melissa's aching head pained her so much that she did not think ofasking who he was or why he was with them.

  Once or twice she felt impelled to ask whither they were taking her, butshe had not the power to raise her voice. When Andreas came to her sideand pointed to the centurion, saying that without him he would neverhave succeeded in saving her beloved, she heard it only as a hollowmurmur, without any consciousness of its meaning. Indeed, she wishedrather that the freedman would keep silent when he began explaining hisopportune arrival at the fountain, which must seem such a miracle toher.

  The slave-brand on his arm had enabled him to penetrate into the houseof Seleukus, where he hoped to obtain news of her. There Johanna had ledhim to Alexander, and with the Aurelians he had found the centurion andthe slave Argutis. Argutis had just returned from the lady Euryale, andswore that he had seen the wounded Diodoros. Andreas had then declaredhis intention of bringing the son of his former master to a place ofsafety, and the centurion had been prevailed upon by the young tribunesto open a way for the freedman through the sentinels. The gardeners ofPolybius, with their ass, had been detained in an inn on this side ofLake Mareotis by the closing of the harbor, and Andreas had taken theprecaution of making use of them. Had it not been for the centurion, whowas known to the other soldiers, the watch would never have allowed thefreedman to get so far as the fountain; Andreas therefore begged Melissato thank their preserver. But his words fell upon her ear unnoticed, andwhen the strange soldier left her to devote himself again to Diodorosshe breathed more freely, for his rapidly spoken words hurt her.

  If he would only not come again--only not speak to her!

  She had even ceased to look for her lover. Her one desire was to see andhear nothing. When she did force herself to raise her heavy, throbbinglids, she noticed that they were passi
ng poor-looking houses which shenever remembered seeing before. She fancied, however, from the damp windthat blew in her face and relieved her burning head, that they mustbe nearing the lake or the sea. Surely that was a fishing-net hangingyonder on the fence round a but on which the light of the lantern fell.But perhaps it was something quite different, for the images that passedbefore her heavy eyes began to mingle confusedly, to repeat themselves,and be surrounded by a ring of rainbow colors. Her head had grownso heavy that her mind had lost all sense of hope or fear; only herthoughts stirred faintly as the procession moved on and on through thedarkness, without a pause for rest.

  When they had passed the last of the huts she managed to look upward.

  The evening star stood out clear against the sky, and she seemed to seethe other stars revolving quickly round it.

  Her mouth was painful and parched, and more than once she had beenseized with giddiness, which forced her to hold tightly to the saddle.

  Now they stopped beside a large piece of water, and she felt strangelywell and light of heart. That must be the dear, familiar lake. And therestood Agatha waving to her, and at her side the lady Euryale under thespreading shade of a mighty palm. Bright sunshine flooded them both, andyet it was the night; for there was the evening star beaming down uponher.

  How could that be?

  Yet, when she tried to understand it all, her head pained her so, andshe turned so giddy, that she clutched the neck of the ass to saveherself from falling.

  When she raised herself again she saw a large boat, out of which severalpeople came to meet them, the foremost of them a tall man in a long,white garment. That was no dream, she was quite certain. And yet-why didthe lantern which one of them held aloft burn her face so much and nothis? Oh, how it burned!

  Everything turned in a circle round her, and grew dark before her eyes.

  But not for long; suddenly it became light as day, and she heard a deepand friendly voice calling her by name. She answered without fear, "Heream I," and saw before her a stranger in a long, white robe, of loftyyet gentle aspect, just as she had imagined the crucified Saviour of theChristians, and in her ear sounded the loving message with which he bidsthe weary and heavy-laden come to him that he may give them rest.

  How gentle, how consoling, and how full of gracious promise were thewords, and how gladly would she do his bidding! "Here am I!" she criedagain, and saw the arms of the white-robed man stretched out to receiveher. She staggered toward him, and felt a firm and manly hand clasphers, and then rest in blessing on her throbbing brow. All grew darkagain before her, and she saw and heard no more.

  Andreas had lifted her from the ass and supported her, while the twoChristians thanked the soldier for his timely aid.

  Having assured them that he had had no thought of helping them, but onlyof obeying his superior officers, he disappeared into the night, andthe freedman lifted Melissa in his strong arms and carried her down toZeno's boat, which was waiting for them.

  "Her mind wanders," said the freedman, with a loving look at theprecious burden in his arms. "Her spirit is strong, but the shocks shehas sustained this day have been too much for her. 'Thou wilt give merest,' were her last words before losing consciousness. Can she havebeen thinking of the promise of the Saviour?"

  "If not," answered the deep, musical voice of Zeno, "we will showher Him who called the little children to Him, and the weary andheavy-laden. She belongs to them, and she will see that the Lordfulfills what He so lovingly promises."

  "One of Christ's sayings, and repeated by Paul in his letter to theGalatians, has taken great hold upon her," added Andreas, "and I thinkthat in these days of terror, for her, too, the fullness of time hascome."

  As he spoke he stepped on to the plank which led to the boat from theshore: Diodoros had already been placed on board. When Andreas laid thegirl on the cushioned seat in the little cabin, he exclaimed, with asigh of relief, "Now we are safe!"