CHAPTER V.
The crowds on the road were now homeward bound, and they were all insuch wild, high spirits that, from what was to be seen and heard, itcould never have been supposed that they had come from so mournful ascene. They took the road by the sea leading from the Nekropolis toEleusis, wandering on in the glowing moonlight.
A great procession of Greeks had been to Eleusis, to celebrate themysteries after the manner of the Greek Eleusis, on which that ofAlexandria was modeled. The newly initiated, and the elder adepts, whoseduty it was to superintend their reception, had remained in the temple;but the other mystics now swelled the train of those who were comingfrom the city of the dead.
Here, indeed, Serapis took the place of Pluto, and much that was Greekhad assumed strange and Egyptian forms: even the order of the ceremonieshad been entirely changed; still, on the African, as on the Attic shore,the Greek cry went up, "To the sea, O mystics!" and the bidding toIakchos: "Be with us, O Iakchos!"
It could be heard from afar, but the voices of the shouters were alreadyweary, and most of the torches had burned low. The wreaths of ivy andmyrtle in their hair were limp; the singers of the hymn no longerkept their ranks; and even Iambe, whose jests had cheered the mourningDemeter, and whose lips at Eleusis had overflowed with witticisms, wasexhausted and silent. She still held in her hand the jar from which shehad given the bereaved goddess a reviving draught, but it was emptyand she longed for a drink. She was indeed a he: for it was a youthin woman's dress who played the rollicking part of Iambe, and it wasAlexander's friend and comrade Diodoros who had represented the daughterof Pan and Echo, who, the legend said, had acted as slave in the houseof Metaneira, the Eleusinian queen, when Demeter took refuge there.His sturdy legs had good reason to be as weary as his tongue, which hadknown no rest for five hours.
But he caught sight of the large vehicle drawn by four horses, inwhich the vast corn-measure, the kalathos, which Serapis wore as hisdistinguishing head-gear, had been conveyed to Eleusis. It was emptynow, for the contents had been offered to the god, and the four blackhorses had an easy task with the great wagon. No one had as yet thoughtof using it as a conveyance back to the town; but Diodoros, who was bothingenious and tired, ran after it and leaped up. Several now wanted tofollow his example, but he pushed them off, even thrusting at themwith a newly lighted torch, for he could not be quiet in spite of hisfatigue. In the midst of the skirmishing he perceived his friend andMelissa.
His heart had been given to the gentle girl ever since they had beenplaymates in his father's garden, and when he saw her, walking alongdowncast, while her brother sported with his neighbor's daughters, hebeckoned to her, and, as she refused to accompany him in the wagon, henimbly sprang off, lifted her up in his arms, made strong by exercise inthe Palaestra, and gently deposited her, in spite of her struggles, onthe flat floor of the car, by the side of the empty kalathos.
"The rape of Persephone!" he cried. "The second performance in one.night!"
Then the old reckless spirit seized Alexander too.
With as much gay audacity--as though he were free of every care andgrief, and had signed a compact with Fortune, he picked up pretty Ino,lifted her into the wagon, as Diodoros had done with his sister, andexclaiming, "The third performance!" seated himself by her side.
His bold example found immediate imitators. "A fourth!" "A fifth!" criedone and another, shouting and laughing, with loud calls on Iakchos.
The horses found it hard work, for all along the edge of the car, andround the kalathos of the great Serapis, sat the merry young couples inclose array. Alexander and Melissa soon were wreathed with myrtle andivy. In the vehicle and among the crowd there were none but radiant andfrolicsome faces, and no sound but triumphant revelry.
Fatigue was forgotten; it might have been supposed that the sinistersisters, Care and Sorrow, had been banished from earth.
There was a smile even on Melissa's sweet, calm face. At first herold friend's audacious jest had offended her maidenly coyness; but ifDiodoros had always loved her, so had she always loved him; and as otherwell-conducted girls had been content to have the like done to them, andher companion so confidently and roguishly sued for pardon, she gave hima smile which filled his heart with rapture, and said more than words.
It was a comfort, too, to sit still and rest.
She spoke but little, but even she forgot what troubled her when shefelt her friend's hand on hers, and he whispered to her that this wasthe most delightful night he had ever known, and that, of all the sweetsthe gods had created, she was to him the sweetest?
The blue sea spread before them, the full moon mirrored on its scarcelyheaving surface like a tremulous column of pure and shining silver. Themurmur of the ripples came up from the strand as soothing and invitingas the song of the Nereids; and if a white crest of foam rose on a wave,she could fancy it was the arm of Thetis or Galatea. There, where theblue was deepest, the sea-god Glaukos must dwell, and his heart begladdened by the merry doings on shore.
Nature is so great; and as the thought came to her that her heart wasnot too small to take its greatness in, even to the farthest horizon, itfilled her with glad surprise.
And Nature was bountiful too. Melissa could see the happy and graciousface of a divinity in everything she looked upon. The immortals who hadafflicted her, and whom she had often bitterly accused, could be kindand merciful too. The sea, on whose shining surface the blue vault ofheaven with the moon and stars rocked and twinkled, the soft breezewhich fanned her brow, the new delicious longing which filled herheart-all she felt and was conscious of, was a divinity or an emanationof the divine. Mighty Poseidon and majestic Zeus, gentle Selene, and thesportive children of the god of winds, seemed to be strangely near heras she rode along. And it was the omnipotent son of Kypris, no doubt,who stirred her heart to beat higher than it had ever done before.
Her visit to her mother's grave, too, her prayer and her offeringsthere, had perhaps moved the spirit of the beloved dead to hover nearher now as a guardian genius.
Still, now and again the memory of something terrible passed over hersoul like a sweeping shadow; but what it was which threatened her andthose dear to her she did not see, and would not now inquire. What themorrow might bring should not cloud the enchantment of this hour. Foroh, how fair the world was, and how blessed might mortals be!
"Iakchos! Iakchos!" the voices about her shouted, and it sounded asgleeful as though the breasts of the revelers were overflowing withgladness; and as the scented curls of Diodoros bent over her head, ashis hand closed on hers, and his whispered words of love were in herear, she murmured: "Alexander is right; the world is a banqueting-hall,and life is fair."
"So fair!" echoed the youth, pensively. Then he shouted aloud to hiscompanions: "The world is a banqueting-hall! Bring roses, bring wine,that we may sacrifice to Eros, and pour libations to Dionysus. Lightthe flaming torches! Iakchos! come, Iakchos, and sanctify our gladfestival!"
"Come, Iakchos, come!" cried one and another, and soon the enthusiasticyouth's cry was taken up on all sides. But wine-skin and jar were longsince emptied.
Hard by, below the cliff, and close to the sea, was a tavern, at thesign of the Cock. Here cool drink was to be had; here the horses mightrest-for the drivers had been grumbling bitterly at the heavy load addedto the car over the deep sand--and here there was a level plot, underthe shade of a spreading sycamore, which had often before now served asa floor for the choric dance.
The vehicle soon drew up in front of the whitewashed inn, surroundedon three sides by a trellised arbor, overgrown with figs and vine. Theyoung couples sprang to the ground; and, while the host and his slavedragged up a huge wine-jar with two ears, full of the red juice of thegrape, fresh torches were lighted and stuck on poles or fastened to thebranches of the sycamore, the youths took their places eager for thedance, and suddenly the festal song went up from their clear throatsunbidden, and as though inspired by some mysterious power:
Iakchos, come! oh, com
e, Iakchos! Hither come, to the scene of our revel, The gladsome band of the faithful. Shake the fragrant, berried garland, Myrtle-twined, that crowns thy love-locks, Shedding its odors! Tread the measure, with fearless stamp, Of this our reckless, rapturous dance, In holy rejoicing! Hand in hand, thrice beatified, Lo we thread the rhythmic, fanciful, Mystical mazes!
And the dance begins. Youths and maidens advance to meet each other withgraceful movements. Every step must be a thing of beauty, every bend andrising, while the double flutes play faster and faster, and the measuredrhythm becomes a wild whirl. They all know the dance, and the music is aguide to the feeling to be expressed; the dancing must be suited toit. Every gesture is a stroke of color which may beautify or mar thepicture. Body and spirit are in perfect harmony, combining to representthe feelings that stir the soul. It is a work of art, the art of thearms and feet. Even when passion is at the highest the guiding law isobserved. Nay, when the dancers fly wildly apart, they, not merely cometogether again with unerring certainty, but form in new combinationanother delightful and perfectly harmonious picture.
"Seek and find" this dance might be called, for the first idea is torepresent the wandering of Demeter in search of her daughter Persephone,whom Pluto has carried off to the nether world, till she finds her andclasps her in her motherly arms once more. Thus does the earth bewailthe reaped fruit of the field, which is buried in the ground in thewinter sowing, to rise again in the spring; thus does a faithful heartpine during absence till it is reunited to the beloved one; thus do wemourn our dead till our soul is assured of their resurrection: and thisbelief is the end and clew to the mystery.
All this grief and search, this longing and crying for the absent, thisfinal restoration and the bliss of new possession, is set forth by theyouths and damsels-now in slow and now in vehement action, but alwayswith infinite grace.
Melissa threw her whole soul into the dance while Demeter was seekingthe lost Persephone, her thoughts were with her brothers; and shelaughed as heartily as any one at the jests with which Iambe cheered thestricken mother. And when the joy of meeting was to find expression, sheneed not think of anything but the fact that the youth who held out hishand to her loved her and cared for her. In this, for the moment, laythe end of all her longing and seeking, the fulfillment of every wish;and as the chorus shouted, "Iakchos!" again and again, her soul seemedto have taken wings.
The reserve of her calm and maidenly nature broke down; in her ecstasyshe snatched from her shoulder the wreath of ivy with which Diodoros haddecked her, and waved it aloft. Her long hair had fallen loose in thedance and flowed wildly about her, and her shout of "Iakchos!" rangclear in the night air.
The youth she loved gazed at her with ravished eyes, as at some miracle;she, heedless of the others, threw her arms round his neck, and, as hekissed her, she said once more, but loud enough now to be heard fromafar, "The world is a banqueting-hall!" and again she joined in theshout of "Iakchos!" her eyes bright with excitement. Cups filledhigh with wine now circulated among the mad-cap mystics; even Melissarefreshed herself, handing the beaker to her lover, and Diodoros raisedto his mouth that place on the rim which her lips had touched.
"O life! fount of joys!" cried Diodoros, kissing her and pressing hercloser to him. "Come, Iakchos! Behold with envy how thankfully twomortals can bless the gift of life. But where is Alexander? To none butto our Andreas have I ever confided the secret I have borne in my heartsince that day when we went to the circus. But now! Oh, it is so muchhappiness for two hearts! My friend, too, must have part in it!"
At this Melissa clasped her hand to her brow, as though waking from adream. How hot she was from dancing, and the unusual strength of thewine and water she had drunk!
The danger impending over both her brothers came back to her mind. Shehad always been accustomed to think of others rather than herself, andher festal mood dropped from her suddenly, like a mantle of which thebrooch breaks. She vehemently shook herself free of her lover's embrace,and her eyes glanced from one to another in rapid search.
There stood pretty Ino, who had danced the mazy measure with Alexander.Panting for breath, she stood leaning her weary head and tangled hairagainst the trunk of the tree, a wine-cup upside down in her right hand.It must be empty; but where was he who had emptied it?
Her neighbor's daughter would surely know. Had the reckless youthquarreled with the girl? No, no!
One of the tavern-keeper's slaves, Ino told her, had whispered somethingto Alexander, whereupon he had instantly followed the man into thehouse. Melissa knew that it could be no trivial matter which detainedhim there, and hurried after him into the tavern.
The host, a Greek, and his buxom wife, affected not to know for whom shewas inquiring; but, perceiving the anxiety which spoke in every lineof the girl's face, when she explained that she was Alexander's sister,they at first looked at each other doubtingly, and then the woman, whohad children of her own, who fondly loved each other, felt her heartswell within her, and she whispered, with her finger on her lips: "Donot be uneasy, pretty maid; my husband will see him well through."
And then Melissa heard that the Egyptian, who had alarmed her in theNekropolis, was the spy Zminis, who, as her old slave Dido had once toldher, had been a rejected suitor of her mother's before she had marriedHeron, and who was therefore always glad to bring trouble on allwho belonged to her father's house. How often had she heard of theannoyances in which this man had involved her father and Alexander, whowere apt to be very short with the man!
This tale-bearer, who held the highest position as guardian of the peaceunder the captain of the night-watch, was of all men in the city themost hated and feared; and he had heard her brother speaking of Caesarin a tone of mockery which was enough to bring him to prison, to thequarries, nay, to death. Glaukias, the sculptor, had previously seen theEgyptian on the bridge, where he had detained those who were returninghome from the city of the dead. He and his followers had already stoppedthe poet Argeios on his way, but the thyrsus staves of the Dionysiacrevelers had somewhat spoiled the game for him and his satellites. Hewas probably still standing on the bridge. Glaukias had immediately runback, at any risk, to warn Alexander. He and the painter were now inhiding, and would remain in safety, come what might, in the cellar atthe Cock, till the coast was clear again. The tavern-keeper stronglyadvised no one to go meddling with his wine-skins and jars.
"Much less that Egyptian dog!" cried his wife, doubling her fist asthough the hated mischief-maker stood before her already.
"Poor, helpless lamb!" she murmured to herself, as she lookedcompassionately at the fragile, town-bred girl, who stood gazing at theground as if she had been struck by lightning. She remembered, too,how hard life had seemed to her in her own young days, and glanced withpride at her brawny arms, which were able indeed to work and manage.
But what now?
The drooping flower suddenly raised her head, as if moved by a spring,exclaiming: "Thank you heartily, thank you! But that will never do. IfZminis searches your premises he will certainly go into the cellar; forwhat can he not do in Caesar's name? I will not part from my brother."
"Then you, too, are a welcome guest at the Cock," interrupted the woman,and her husband bowed low, assuring her that the Cock was as much herhouse as it was his.
But the helpless town-bred damsel declined this friendly invitation; forher shrewd little head had devised another plan for saving her brother,though the tavern-keepers, to whom she confided it in a whisper, laughedand shook their heads over it. Diodoros was waiting outside in anxiousimpatience; he loved her, and he was her brother's best friend. Allthat he could do to save Alexander he would gladly do, she knew. On theestate which would some day be his, there was room and to spare to hidethe fugitives, for one of the largest gardens in the town was ownedby his father. His extensive grounds had been familiar to her from herchildhood, for her own mother and her lover's had been friends;and Andreas,
the freedman, the overseer of Polybius's gardens andplantations, was dearer to her and her brothers than any one else inAlexandria.
Nor had she deceived herself, for Diodoros made Alexander's cause hisown, in his eager, vehement way; and the plan for his deliverance seemeddoubly admirable as proceeding from Melissa. In a few minutes Alexanderand the sculptor were released from their hiding-place, and all furthercare for them was left to Diodoros.
They were both very, craftily disguised. No one would have recognizedthe artists in two sailors, whose Phrygian caps completely hid theirhair, while a heavy fisherman's apron was girt about their loins;still less would any one have suspected from their laughing faces thatimprisonment, if nothing worse, hung over them. Their change of garbhad given rise to so much fun; and now, on hearing how they were to besmuggled into the town, their merriment grew higher, and proved catchingto those who were taken into the secret. Only Melissa was oppressed withanxious care, in spite of her lover's eager consolation.
Glaukias, a man of scarcely middle height, was sure of not beingrecognized, and he and his comrades looked forward to whatever mighthappen as merely an amusing jest. At the same time they had to balk thehated chief of the city guards and his menials of their immediate prey;but they had played them a trick or two ere now. It might turn outreally badly for Alexander; still, it was only needful to keep himconcealed till Caesar should arrive; then he would be safe, for theEmperor would certainly absorb all the thoughts and time of the captainof the night-watch and his chief officers. In Alexandria, anything oncepast was so soon forgotten! When once Caracalla was gone--and it was tobe hoped that he would not stay long--no one would ever think again ofany biting speech made before his arrival.
The morning must bring what it might, so long as the present moment wasgay!
So, refreshed and cheered by rest and wine, the party of mysticsprepared to set out again; and, as the procession started, no one whodid not know it had observed that the two artists, disguised as sailors,were, by Melissa's advice, hidden inside the kalathos of Serapis, whichwould easily have held six, and was breast-high even for Alexander, whowas a tall man. They squatted on the floor of the huge vessel, with ajar of wine between them, and peeped over now and then with a laugh atthe girls, who had again seated themselves on the edge of the car.
When they were fairly on their way once more, Alexander and hiscompanions were so daring that, whenever they could do it unobserved,they pelted the damsels with the remains of the corn, or sprinkled themwith wine-drops. Glaukias had the art of imitating the pattering of rainand the humming of a fly to perfection with his lips; and when the girlscomplained of the tiresome insect buzzing in their faces, or declared,when a drop fell on them, that in spite of the blue and cloudless sky itwas certainly beginning to rain, the two men had to cover their mouthswith their hands, that their laughter might not betray them.
Melissa, who had comforted Ino with the assurance that Alexander hadbeen called away quite unexpectedly, was now sitting by her side, andperceived, of course, what tricks the men in the kalathos were playing;but, instead of amusing her, they only made her anxious.
Every one about her was laughing and joking, but for her all mirth wasat an end. Fear, indeed, weighed on her like an incubus, when the carreached the bridge and rattled across it. It was lined with soldiers andlictors, who looked closely at each one, even at Melissa herself. But noone spoke to her, and when the water lay behind them she breathed morefreely. But only for a moment; for she suddenly remembered that theywould presently have to pass through the gate leading past Hadrian'swestern wall into the town. If Zminis were waiting there instead of onthe bridge, and were to search the vehicle, then all would be lost, forhe had looked her, too, in the face with those strange, fixed eyes ofhis; and that where he saw the sister he would also seek the brother,seemed to her quite certain. Thus her presence was a source of peril toAlexander, and she must at any cost avert that.
She immediately put out her hand to Diodoros, who was walking at herside, and with his help slipped down from her seat. Then she whisperedher fears to him, and begged him to quit the party and conduct her home.
This was a surprising and delightful task for her lover. With a jestingword he leaped on to the car, and even succeeded in murmuring toAlexander, unobserved, that Melissa had placed herself under hisprotection. When they got home, they could tell Heron and Andreasthat the youths were safe in hiding. Melissa could explain, to-morrowmorning, how everything had happened. Then he drew Melissa's armthrough his, loudly shouted, "Iakchos!" and with a swift dance-step soonoutstripped the wagon.
Not fifty paces beyond, large pine torches sent bright flames upskyward, and by their light the girl could see the dreaded gateway, withthe statues of Hadrian and Sabina, and in front of them, in the middleof the road, a horseman, who, as they approached, came trotting forwardto meet them on his tall steed. His head towered above every one else inthe road; and as she looked up at him her heart almost ceased beating,for her eyes met those of the dreaded Egyptian; their white balls showedplainly in his brown, lean face, and their cruel, evil sparkle hadstamped them clearly on her memory.
On her right a street turned off from the road, and saying in a lowtone, "This way," she led Diodoros, to his surprise, into the shadow.His heart beat high. Did she, whose coy and maidenly austerity beforeand after the intoxication of the dance had vouchsafed him hardly a kindlook or a clasp of the hand-did she even yearn for some tender embracealone and in darkness? Did the quiet, modest girl, who, since she hadceased to be a child, had but rarely given him a few poor words, longto tell him that which hitherto only her bright eyes and the kiss of herpure young lips had betrayed?
He drew her more closely to him in blissful expectation; but she shylyshrank from his touch, and before he could murmur a single word oflove she exclaimed in terror, as though the hand of the persecutor werealready laid on her: "Fly, fly! That house will give us shelter."
And she dragged him after her into the open doorway of a large building.Scarcely had they entered the dark vestibule when the sound of hoofs washeard, and the glare of torches dispelled the darkness outside.
"Zminis! It is he--he is following us!" she whispered, scarcely able tospeak; and her alarm was well founded, for the Egyptian had recognizedher, and supposed her companion to be Alexander. He had ridden down thestreet with his torchbearers, but where she had hidden herself his keeneyes could not detect, for the departing sound of hoofs betrayed to thebreathless listeners that the pursuer had left their hiding-place farbehind him. Presently the pavement in front of the house which shelteredthem rang again with the tramp of the horse, till it died away at lastin the direction of Hadrian's gate. Not till then did Melissa lift herhand from her painfully throbbing heart.
But the Egyptian would, no doubt, have left his spies in the street, andDiodoros went out to see if the road was clear. Melissa remained alonein the dark entrance, and began to be anxious as to how she couldexplain her presence there if the inhabitants should happen to discoverit; for in this vast building, in spite of the lateness of the hour,there still was some one astir. She had for some minutes heard amurmuring sound which reached her from an inner chamber; but it was onlyby degrees that she collected herself so far as to listen more closely,to ascertain whence it came and what it could mean.
A large number of persons must be assembled there, for she coulddistinguish several male voices, and now and then a woman's. A door wasopened. She shrank closer to the wall, but the seconds became minutes,and no one appeared.
At last she fancied she heard the moving of benches or seats, and manyvoices together shouting she knew not what. Then again a door creaked onits hinges, and after that all was so still that she could have hearda needle drop on the floor; and this alarming silence continued tillpresently a deep, resonant man's voice was audible.
The singular manner in which this voice gave every word its full andequal value suggested to her fancy that something was being read aloud.She could distinctly hear the sente
nce with which the speech or readingbegan. After a short pause it was repeated somewhat more quickly, asthough the speaker had this time uttered it from his own heart.
It consisted of these six simple words, "The fullness of the time wascome"; and Melissa listened no more to the discourse which followed,spoken as it was in a low voice, for this sentence rang in her ears asif it were repeated by an echo.
She did not, to be sure, understand its meaning, but she felt as thoughit must have some deep significance. It came back to her again andagain, like a melody which haunts the inward ear against our will; andher meditative fancy was trying to solve its meaning, when Diodorosreturned to tell her that the street was quite empty. He knew now wherethey were, and, if she liked, he could lead her by a way which would nottake them through the gate. Only Christians, Egyptians, and other commonfolks dwelt in this quarter; however, since his duty as her protectorhad this day begun, he would fulfill it to the best of his ability.
She went with him out into the street, and when they had gone a littleway he clasped her to him and kissed her hair.
His heart was full. He knew now that she, whom he had loved when shewalked in his father's garden in her little child's tunic, holding hermother's hand, returned his passion. Now the time was come for askingwhether she would permit him to beg her father's leave to woo her.
He stopped in the shadow of a house near, and, while he poured out toher all that stirred his breast, carried away by tender passion, anddescribing in his vehement way how great and deep his love was, in spiteof the utter fatigue which weighed on her body and soul after so manyagitations, she felt with deep thankfulness the immense happiness ofbeing more precious than aught else on earth to a dear, good man. Love,which had so long lain dormant in her as a bud, and then opened soquickly only to close again under her alarms, unfolded once more andblossomed for him again--not as it had done just now in passionateecstasy, but, as beseemed her calm, transparent nature, with moderatedjoy, which, however, did not lack due warmth and winning tenderness.
Happiness beyond words possessed them both. She suffered him to seal hisvows with kisses, herself offering him her lips, as her heart swelledwith fervent thanksgiving for so much joy and such a full measure oflove.
She was indeed a precious jewel, and the passion of his stormy heart wastempered by such genuine reverence that he gladly kept within the boundswhich her maidenly modesty prescribed. And how much they had to say toeach other in this first opening of their hearts, how many hopes for thefuture found utterance in words! The minutes flew on and became hours,till at last Melissa begged him to quit the marble seat on which theyhad so long been resting, if indeed her feet could still carry her home.
Little as it pleased him, he did her bidding. But as they went on hefelt that she hung heavy on his arm and could only lift her little feetwith the greatest difficulty. The street was too dark for him to see howpale she was; and yet he never took his eyes off her dear but scarcelydistinguishable features. Suddenly he heard a faint whisper as in adream, "I can go no farther," and at once led her back to the marbleseat.
He first carefully spread his mantle over the stone and then wrappedher in it as tenderly as a mother might cover her shivering child, fora cooler breeze gave warning of the coming dawn. He himself crept closeunder the wall by her side, so as not to be seen, for a long train ofpeople, with servants carrying lanterns before them, now came out ofthe house they had just left and down the street. Who these could be whowalked at so late an hour in such solemn silence neither of them knew.They certainly sent up no joyful shout of "Iakchos!" no wild lament; nocheerful laughter nor sounds of mourning were to be heard from the longprocession which passed along the street, two and two, at a slow pace.As soon as they had passed the last houses, men and women alike began tosing; no leader started them, nor lyre accompanied them, and yet theirsong went up as though with one voice.
Diodoros and Melissa knew every note sung by the Greeks or Egyptians ofAlexandria, at this or any other festival, but this melody was strangeto them; and when the young man whispered to the girl, "What is it thatthey are singing?" she replied, as though startled from sleep, "They areno mere mortals!"
Diodoros shuddered; he fancied that the procession was floating abovethe earth; that, if they had been indeed men of flesh and blood, theirsteps would have been more distinctly audible on the pavement. Some ofthem appeared to him to be taller than common mortals, and their chantwas certainly that of another world than this where he dwelt. Perhapsthese were daimons, the souls of departed Egyptians, who, after amidnight visit to those they had left behind them, were returning to therock tombs, of which there were many in the stony hills to which thisstreet led. They were walking toward these tombs, and not toward thegate; and Diodoros whispered his suspicion to his companion, claspinghis hand on an amulet in the semblance of an eye, which his Egyptiannurse had fastened round his neck long ago with an Anubic thread, toprotect him against the evil-eye and magic spells.
But Melissa was listening with such devout attention to the chant thatshe did not hear him. The fatigue which had reached such a painfulclimax had, during this peaceful rest, given way to a blissfulunconsciousness of self. It was a kind of happiness to feel no longerthe burden of exhaustion, and the song of the wanderers was like acradle-song, lulling her to sweet dreams. It filled her with gladness,and yet it was not glad, not even cheerful. It went to her heart, andyet it was not mournful-not in the least like the passionate lament ofIsis for Osiris, or that of Demeter bewailing her daughter. The emotionit aroused in her was a sweetly sorrowful compassion, which includedherself, her brothers, her father, her lover, all who were doomed tosuffering and death, even the utter stranger, for whom she had hithertofelt no sympathy.
And the compassion bore within it a sense of comfort which she could notexplain, or perhaps would not inquire into. It struck her, too, now andthen, that the strain had a ring as of thanksgiving. It was, no doubt,addressed to the gods, and for that reason it appealed to her, andshe would gladly have joined in it, for she, too, was grateful to theimmortals, and above all to Eros, for the love which had been bornin her heart and had found such an ardent return. She sighed as shelistened to every note of the chant, and it worked upon her like ahealing draught.
The struggle of her will against bodily fatigue, and finally against themental exhaustion of so much bliss, the conviction that her heavy,weary feet would perhaps fail to carry her home, and that she must seekshelter somewhere for the night, had disturbed her greatly. Now shewas quite calm, and as much at ease as she was at home sitting with herfather, her stitching in her hand, while she dreamed of her mother andher childhood in the past. The singing had fallen on her agitated soullike the oil poured by the mariner on the sea to still the foamingbreakers. She felt it so.
She could not help thinking of the time when she could fall asleep onher mother's bosom in the certainty that tender love was watching overher. The happiness of childhood, when she loved everything she knew-herfamily, the slaves, her father's birds, the flowers in the littlegarden, the altar of the goddess to whom she made offering, the verystars in the sky-seemed to come over her, and there she sat in dreamylassitude, her head on her lover's shoulder, till the last stragglers ofthe procession, who, were women, many of them carrying little lamps intheir hands, had almost all gone past.
Then she suddenly felt an eager jerk in the shoulder on which her headwas resting.
"Look--look there!" he whispered; and as her eyes followed the directionof his finger, she too started, and exclaimed, "Korinna!--Did you knowher?"
"She had often come to my father's garden," he replied, "and I saw herportrait in Alexander's room. These are souls from Hades that we haveseen. We must offer sacrifice, for those to whom they show themselvesthey draw after them." At this Melissa, too, shuddered, and exclaimedin horror: "O Diodoros, not to death! We will ask the priests to-morrowmorning what sacrifice may redeem us. Anything rather than the graveand the darkness of Hades!--Come, I am strong again now. Let
us get awayfrom hence and go home."
"But we must go through the gate now," replied the youth. "It is notwell to follow in the footsteps of the dead."
Melissa, however, insisted on going on through the street. Terrified asshe was of the nether world and the disembodied souls, she would on noaccount risk falling into the hands of the horrible Egyptian, who mightcompel her to betray her brother's hiding-place; and Diodoros, who wasashamed to show her the fears which still possessed him, did as shedesired.
But it was a comfort to him in this horror of death, which had come overhim now for the first time in his life, to kiss the maid once more, andhold her warm hand in his as they walked on; while the strange chant ofthe nocturnal procession still rang in her ears, and now and then thewords recurred to her mind which she had heard in the house where thedeparted souls had gathered together:
"The fullness of the time was come."
Did this refer to the hour when the dead came to the end of their lifeon earth; or was there some great event impending on the city and itsinhabitants, for which the time had now come? Had the words anything todo with Caesar's visit? Had the dead come back to life to witnessthe scenes which they saw approaching with eyes clearer than those ofmortals?
And then she remembered Korinna, whose fair, pale face had beenstrangely lighted up by the lamp she carried; and, again, the Magian'sassurance that the souls of the departed were endowed with every facultypossessed by the living, and that "those who knew" could see them andconverse with them.
Then Serapion had been right in saying this; and her hand trembledin her lover's as she thought to herself that the danger which nowthreatened Philip was estrangement from the living through intercoursewith the dead. Her own dead mother, perhaps, had floated past amongthese wandering souls, and she grieved to think that she had neglectedto look for her and give her a loving greeting. Even Diodoros, whowas not generally given to silent meditation, had his own thoughts topursue; and so they walked on in silence till suddenly they heard a dullmurmur of voices. This startled them, and looking up they saw beforethem the rocky cliffs in which the Egyptians long since, and now inlater times the Christians, had hewn caves and tombs. From the door ofone of these, only a few paces beyond where they stood, light streamedout; and as they were about to pass it a large dog barked. Immediatelyon this a man came out, and in a rough, deep voice asked them thepass-word. Diodoros, seized with sudden terror of the dark figure, whichhe believed to be a risen ghost, took to his heels, dragging Melissawith him. The dog flew after them, barking loudly; and when the youthstooped to pick up a stone to scare him off, the angry brute sprang onhim and dragged him down.
Melissa screamed for help, but the gruff voice angrily bade her besilent. Far from obeying him, the girl shouted louder than ever; andnow, out of the entrance to the cave, close behind the scene of thedisaster, came a number of men with lamps and tapers. They were thesame daimons whose song she had heard in the street; she could notbe mistaken. On her knees, by the side of her lover as he lay on theground, she stared up at the apparitions. A stone flew at the dog toscare him off, and a second, larger than the first, whisked past her andhit Diodoros on the head; she heard the dull blow. At this a coldhand seemed to clutch her heart; everything about her melted into onewhirling, colorless cloud. Pale as death, she threw up her arms toprotect herself, and then, overcome with terror and fatigue, with afaint cry of anguish she lost consciousness.
When she opened her eyes again her head was resting in the lap ofa kind, motherly woman, while some men were just bearing away thesenseless form of Diodoros on a bier.