Die Nilbraut. English
CHAPTER VIII.
Nilus had performed his errand well, and Rufinus was forced to admitthat Orion had done his part and had planned the enterprise with so muchcare and unselfishness that his personal assistance could be dispensedwith. Under these circumstances he scarcely owed the young man a grudgefor placing himself at the service of his Byzantine friends; still,his not coming to the house disturbed and vexed him, less on his ownaccount, or that of the good cause, than for Paula's sake, for herfeelings towards Orion had remained no secret to him or his wife.
Dame Joanna, indeed, felt the young man's conduct more keenly thanRufinus; she would have been glad to withhold her husband from theenterprise, whose dangers now appeared to her frightened soul tenfoldgreater than they were. But she knew that the Nile would flow backwardsbefore she could dissuade him from keeping his promise to the abbess, soshe forced herself to preserve at any rate outward composure.
Before Paula, Rufinus declared that Orion was fully justified and heloudly praised the young man's liberality in providing the Nile-boatand the vessel for the sea-voyage, and such admirable substitutes forhimself. Pulcheria was delighted with her father's undertaking; sheonly longed to go with him and help him to save her dear nuns. Theship-builder had brought with him, besides his sons, three other Greeksof the orthodox confession, shipwrights like himself, who were outof work in consequence of the low ebb of the Nile, which had greatlyrestricted the navigation. Hence they were glad to put a hand to sucha good work, especially as it would be profitable, too, for Orion hadprovided the old man with ample funds.
As the evening grew cooler after sundown Paula had got better. She didnot, indeed, know what to think of Orion's refusal to start. First shewas grieved, then she rejoiced; for it certainly preserved him fromgreat perils. In the early days after his return from Constantinople shehad heard his praise of the senator's kindness and hospitality, in whichthe Mukaukas, who had pleasant memories of the capital, heartily joined.He must, of course, be glad to be able to assist those friends, of allothers; and Nilus, who was respectfully devoted to her, had greeted herfrom Orion with peculiar warmth. He would come to-morrow, no doubt;and the oftener she repeated to herself his assertion that he had neverbetrayed affectionate trust, the more earnestly she felt prompted, inspite of the abbess' counsel, to abandon all hesitancy, to followthe impulse of her heart, and to be his at once in full and happyconfidence.
The waning moon had not yet risen, and the night was very dark when thenuns set forth. The boat was too large to come close to the shore inthe present low state of the river, and the sisters, disguised aspeasant-women, had to be carried on board one by one from the conventgarden. Last of all the abbess was to be lifted over the shallow water,and the old ship-builder held himself in readiness to perform thisservice. Joanna, Pulcheria, Perpetua, and Eudoxia, who was alsozealously orthodox, were standing round as she gave Paula a parting kissand whispered: "God bless thee, child!--All now depends on you, and youmust be doubly careful to abide by your promise."
"I owe him, in the first place, friendly trust," was Paula's whisperedreply, and the abbess answered: "But you owe yourself firmness andcaution." Rufinus was the last; his wife and daughter clung around himstill.
"Take example from that poor girl," cried the old man, clasping his wifein his arms. "As sure as man is the standard of all things, all must gowell with me this time if everlasting Love is not napping. Till we meetagain, best of good women!--And, if ill befalls your stupid old husband,always remember that he brought it upon himself in trying to save aquarter of a hundred innocent women from the worst misfortunes. Atany rate I shall fall on the road I myself have chosen.--But why hasPhilippus not come to take leave of me?"
Dame Joanna burst into tears: "That-that is so hard too! What hascome over him that he has deserted us, and just now of all times? Ah,husband! If you love me, take Gibbus with you on the voyage."
"Yes, master, take me," the hunchbacked gardener interposed. "The Nilewill be rising again by the time we come back, and till then the flowerscan die without my help. I dreamt last night that you picked a rose fromthe middle of my Bump. It stuck up there like the knob on the lid of apot. There is some meaning in it and, if you leave me at home, what isthe good of the rose--that is to say what good will you get out of me?"
"Well then, carry your strange flower-bed on board," said the old manlaughing. "Now, are you satisfied Joanna?"
Once more he embraced her and Pulcheria and, as a tear from his wife'seyes dropped on his hand, he whispered in her ear: "You have been therose of my life; and without you Eden--Paradise itself can have nojoys."
The boat pushed out into the middle of the stream and was soon hidden bythe darkness from the eyes of the women on the bank.
The convent bells were soon heard tolling after the fugitives: Paula andPulcheria were pulling them. There was not a breath of air; not enougheven to fill the small sail of the seaward-bound boat; but the rowerspulled with all their might and the vessel glided northward. The captainstood at the prow with his pole; sounding the current: his brother,no less skilled, took the helm.--The shallowness of the water madenavigation very difficult, and those who knew the river best mighteasily run aground on unexpected shoals or newly-formed mud-drifts. Themoon had scarcely risen when the boat was stranded at a short distancebelow Fostat, and the men had to go overboard to push it off to anaccompaniment of loud singing which, as it were, welded their individualwills and efforts into one. Thus it was floated off again; but suchdelays were not unfrequent till they reached Letopolis, where the Nileforks, and where they hoped to steal past the toll-takers unobserved.Almost against their expectation, the large boat slipped through underthe heavy mist which rises from the waters before sunrise, and thecaptain and crew, steering down the Phatmetic branch of the river withrenewed spirit, ascribed their success to the intercession of the pioussisters.
By daylight it was easier to avoid the sand-banks; but how narrow wasthe water-way-at this season usually overflowing! The beds of papyrus onthe banks now grew partly on dry land, and their rank green had faded tostraw-color. The shifting ooze of the shore had hardened to stone, andthe light west wind, which now rose and allowed of their hoisting thesail, swept clouds of white dust before it. In many cases the soil wasdeeply fissured and wide cracks ran across the black surface, yawning toheaven for water like thirsty throats. The water-wheels stood idle, faraway from the stream, and the fields they were wont to irrigate lookedlike the threshing floors on which the crops they bore should bethreshed out. The villages and palm-groves were shrouded in shimmeringmist, quivering heat, and dazzling yellow light; and the passer-by onthe raised dykes of the shore bent his head as he dragged his weary feetthrough the deep dust.
The sun blazed pitilessly in the cloudless sky, down on land and river,and on the fugitive nuns who had spread their white head-cloths abovethem for an awning and sat in dull lethargy, awaiting what might hebefore them.
The water-jar passed from hand to band; but the more they drank themore acute was their discomfort, and their longing for some otherrefreshment. At meal time the dishes were returned to the tiny cabinalmost untouched. The abbess and Rufinus tried to speak comfort to them;but in the afternoon the superior herself was overpowered by the heat,and the air in the little cabin, to which she retired, was even lesstolerable stuffy than on deck.
Thus passed a long day of torment, the hottest that even the men couldremember; and they on the whole suffered least from it, though theytoiled at the oar without ceasing and with wonderful endurance.
At length evening fell after those fearful midday hours; and as a coolbreeze rose shortly before sunset to fan their moist brows, the haplessvictims awoke to new energies. Their immediate torment had so crushedthem that, incapable of anticipating the future, they had ceased eitherto fear or to hope; but now they could rejoice in thinking of the startthey had gained over their pursuers. They were hungry and enjoyed theirevening meal; the abbess made friends with the worthy ship-wright, andbegan an eager con
versation with Rufinus as to Paula and Orion: Herwish that the young man should spend a time of probation did not at allplease Rufinus; with such a wife as Paula, he could not fail to be atall times the noble fellow which his old friend held him to be in spiteof his having remained at home.
The hump-backed gardener made the younger nuns merry with his jests, andafter supper they all united in prayer.
Even the oarsmen had found new vigor and new life; and it was well thatfew of the Greek sisters understood Egyptian, for the more jovial ofthem started a song in praise of the charms of the maids they loved,which was not composed for women's ears.
The nuns chatted of those they had left behind, and many a one spokeof a happy meeting at home once more; but an elderly nun put a stop tothis, saying that it was a sin to anticipate the ways of God's mercy,or, when His help was still so sorely needed, to speak as though He hadalready bestowed it. They could only tremble and pray, for they knewfrom experience that a threatening disaster never turned to a good endunless it had been expected with real dread.
Another one then began to speculate as to whether their pursuerscould overtake them on foot or on horseback, and as it seemed only tooprobable that they could, their hearts sank again with anxiety. Erelong, however, the moon rose; the objects that loomed on the banks andwere mirrored in the stream, were again clearly visible and lost theirterrors.
The lower down they sailed, the denser were the thickets of papyrus onthe shore. Thousands of birds were roosting there, but they were allasleep; a "dark ness that might be felt" brooded over the silent landscape. The image of the moon floated on the dark water, like a giganticlotos-flower below the smaller, fragrant lotos-blossoms that it out-didin sheeny whiteness; the boat left a bright wake in its track, and everystroke of the oar broke the blackness of the water, which reflected thelight in every drop. The moonlight played on the delicate tufts thatcrowned the slender papyrus-stems, filmy mist, like diaphanous brocadeof violet and silver, veiled the trees; and owls that shun the day, flewfrom one branch to another on noiseless, rhythmic wings.
The magic of the night fell on the souls of the nuns; they ceasedprattling; but when Sister Martha, the nightingale of the sisterhood,began to sing a hymn the others followed her example. The sailors'songs were hushed, and the psalms of the virgin sisters, imploring theprotection of the Almighty, seemed to float round the gliding boat assoftly as the light of the circling moon. For hours--and with increasedzeal as the comet rose in the sky--they gave themselves up to thesoothing and encouraging pleasure of singing; but one by one the voicesdied away and their peaceful hymn was borne down the river to the sea,by degrees more low, more weary, more dreamlike.
They sat looking in their laps, gazing in rapture up to heaven, orat the dazzling ripples and the lotos flowers on the surface. No onethought of the shore, not even the men, who had been lulled to sleepor daydreams by the nuns' singing. The pilot's eyes were riveted on thechannel--and yet, as morning drew near, from time to time there was atwinkle, a flash behind the reed-beds on the eastern bank, and now andthen there was a rustling and clatter there. Was it a jackal that hadplunged into the dense growth to surprise a brood of water-fowl; was ita hyena trampling through the thicket?
The flashing, the rustling, the dull footfall on parched earth followedthe barge all through the night like a sinister, lurid, and mutteringshadow.
Suddenly the captain started and gazed eastwards.--What was that?
There was a herd of cattle feeding in a field beyond the reeds-two bullsperhaps were sharpening their horns. The river was so low, and thebanks rose so high, that it was impossible to see over them. But at thismoment a shrill voice spoke his name, and then the hunchback whisperedin his ear:
"There--over there--it is glittering again.--I will bite off my ownnose if that is not--there, again. Merciful God! I am not mistaken.Harness--and there, that is the neighing of a horse; I know the sound.The east is growing grey. By all the saints, we are pursued!"
The captain looked eastwards with every sense alert, and after a fewminutes silence he said decidedly "Yes."
"Like a flight of quail for whom the fowler spreads his net," sighedthe gardener; but the boatman impatiently signed to him to be quiet, andgazed cautiously on every side. Then he desired Gibbus to wake Rufinusand the shipwrights, and to hide all the nuns in the cabin.
"They will be packed as close as the dates sent to Rome in boxes,"muttered the gardener, as he went to call Rufinus. "Poor souls, theirsaints may save them from suffocation; and as for me, on my faith, if itwere not that Dame Joanna was the very best creature on two legs, andif I had not promised her to stick to the master, I would jump into thewater and try the hospitality of the flamingoes and storks in the reeds!We must learn to condescend!"
While he was fulfilling his errand, the captain was exchanging a fewwords with his brother at the helm. There was no bridge near, and thatwas well. If the horsemen were indeed in pursuit of them, they must ridethrough the water to reach them; and scarcely three stadia lower down,the river grew wider and ran through a marshy tract of country; the onlychannel was near the western bank, and horsemen attempting to get to itran the risk of foundering in the mud. If the boat could but get as faras that reach, much would be gained.
The captain urged the men to put forth all their strength, and very soonthe boat was flying along under the western shore, and divided by anoozy flat from the eastern bank. Day was breaking, and the sky wastinged red as with blood--a sinister omen that this morning was destinedto witness bitter strife and gaping wounds.
The seed sown by Katharina was beginning to grow. At the bishop'srequest the Vekeel had despatched a troop of horse in pursuit of thenuns, with orders to bring the fugitives back to Memphis and take theirescort prisoners. As the boat had slipped by the toll watch unperceived,the Arabs had been obliged to divide, so as to follow down each armof the Nile. Twelve horsemen had been told off to pursue the Phasmeticbranch; for by every calculation these must suffice for the capture ofa score or so of nuns, and a handful of sailors would scarcely dareto attempt to defend themselves. The Vekeel had heard nothing of theaddition to the party of the ship-master and his sons.
The pursuers had set out at noon of the previous day, and had overtakenthe vessel about two hours before daylight. But their leader thoughtit well to postpone the attack till after sunrise, lest any of thefugitives should escape. He and his men were all Arabs, and though wellacquainted with the course of that branch of the river which they wereto follow, they were not familiar with its peculiarities.
As soon as the morning star was invisible, the Moslems performed theirdevotions, and then rushed out of the papyrus-beds. Their leader, makinga speaking trumpet of his hand, shouted to the boat his orders to stop.He was commissioned by the governor to bring it back to Fostat. And thefugitives seemed disposed to obey, for the boat lay to. The captainhad recognized the speaker as the captain of the watch from Fostat, aninexorable man; and now, for the first time, he clearly understood thedeadly peril of the enterprise. He was accustomed, no doubt, to evadethe commands of his superiors, but would no more have defied themthan have confronted Fate; and he at once declared that resistancewas madness, and that there was no alternative but to yield. Rufinus,however, vehemently denied this; he pointed out to him that the samepunishment awaited him, whether he laid down his arms or defendedhimself, and the old ship-wright eagerly exclaimed:
"We built this boat, and I know you of old, Setnau; You will not turnJudas--and, if you do, you know that Christian blood will be shed onthis deck before we can show our teeth to those Infidels."
The captain, with all the extravagant excitability of his southernblood, beat his forehead and his breast, bemoaned himself as a betrayedand ruined man, and bewailed his wife and children. Rufinus, however,put an end to his ravings. He had consulted with the abbess, and he putit strongly to the unhappy man that he could, in any case, hope for nomercy from the unbelievers; while, on Christian ground, he would easilyfind a safe and comfortable refuge
for himself and his family. Theabbess would undertake to give them all a passage on board the ship thatwas awaiting her, and to set them on shore wherever he might choose.
Setnau thought of a brother living in Cyprus; still, for him it meantsacrificing his house and garden at Doomiat, where, at this very hour,fifty date-palms were ripening their fruit; it meant leaving the finenew Nile-boat by which he and his family got their living; and as herepresented this to the old man, bitter tears rolled down his browncheeks. Rufinus explained to him that, if he should succeed in savingthe sisters, he might certainly claim some indemnification. He mighteven calculate the value of his property, and not only would he havethe equivalent paid to him out of the convent treasure, now on board inheavy coffers, but a handsome gift into the bargain.
Setnau exchanged a meaning glance with his brother, who was a singleman, and when it was also agreed that he, too, might embark on thesea-voyage he shook hands with Rufinus on the bargain. Then, givinghimself a shake, as if he had thrown off something that cramped him, andsticking his leather cap knowingly on one side of his shaven head, hedrew himself up to his full height and scornfully shouted back to theArab--who had before now treated him and other Egyptian natives withinsolent haughtiness--that if he wanted anything of him he might comeand fetch it.
The Moslem's patience was long since exhausted, and at this challengehe signed to his followers and sprang first into the river; but theforemost horses soon sank so deep in the ooze that further advance wasevidently impossible, and the signal to return was perforce given. Inthis manoeuvre a refractory horse lost his footing, and his rider waschoked in the mud.
On this, the men in the boat could see the foe holding council withlively gesticulations, and the captain expressed his fears lest theyshould give up all hope of capturing the boat, and ride forward toDoomiat to combine with the Arab garrison to cut off their furtherflight. But he had not reckoned on the warlike spirit of these men, whohad overcome far greater difficulties in twenty fights ere this. Theywere determined to seize the boat, to take its freight prisoners, andhave them duly punished.
Six horsemen, among them the leader of the party, were now seen todismount; they tied their horses up, and then proceeded to fell threetall palms with their battle-axes; the other five went off southwards.These, no doubt, were to ride round the morass, and ford the river ata favorable spot so as to attack the vessel from the west, while theothers tried to reach it from the east with the aid of the palm-trunks.
On the right, or eastern shore, where the Arabs were constructing theraft, spread solid ground-fields through which lay the road to Doomiat;on the other shore, near which the boat was lying, the bog extended fora long way. An interminable jungle of papyrus, sedge, and reeds, burntyellow by the heat of the sun and the extraordinary drought, coveredalmost the whole of this parched and baked wilderness; and, when a stiffmorning breeze rose from the northeast, the captain was inspired with ahappy thought. The five men who had ridden forward would have to forcetheir way through the mass of scorched and dried up vegetation. If theChristians could but set fire to it, on the further side of a canalwhich must hinder their making a wide sweep to the north, the wind wouldcarry it towards the enemy; and, they would be fortunate if it didnot stifle them or compel them to jump into the river, where, when theflames reached the morass, they must inevitably perish.
As soon as the helmsman's keen eyes had made sure, from the mast-head,that the Arabs had forded the river at a point to the south, they setfire to several places and it roared and flared up immediately. The windswept it southwards, and with it clouds of pale grey smoke through whichthe rising sun shot shafts of light. The flames writhed and darted overthe baked earth like gigantic yellow and orange lizards, here shootingupwards, there creeping low. Almost colorless in the ardent daylight,they greedily consumed everything they approached, and white ashesmarked their track. Their breath added to the heat of the advancing day;and though the smoke was borne southwards by the wind, a few cloudletscame over to the boat, choking the sisters and their deliverers.
A large vessel now came towards them from Doomiat and found the narrowchannel barred by the other one. The captain was related to Setnau, andwhen Setnau shouted to him that they were engaged in a struggle withArab robbers, his friend followed his advice, turned the boat's headwith considerable difficulty, and cast anchor at the nearest village towarn other vessels southward bound not to get themselves involved in soperilous an adventure. Any that were coming north would be checked bythe fire and smoke.
The six horsemen left on the eastern shore beheld the spreadingblaze with rage and dismay; however, they had by this time bound thepalm-trunks together, and were preparing by their aid to inflict condignpunishment on the refractory Christians. These, meanwhile, had not beenidle. Every man on board was armed, and one of the ship-wrights was senton shore with a sailor, to steal through the reeds, ford the river ata point lower down and, as soon as the Arabs put out to the attack, toslaughter their horses, or--if one of them should be left to go forwardon the road to Doomiat--to drag him from his steed.
The six men now laid hold of the slightly-constructed float, on whichthey placed their bows and quivers; they pushed it before them, andit supported them above the shallow water, while their feet only justtouched the oozy bottom. They were all thorough soldiers, true sons ofthe desert and of their race--men whom nature seemed to have conceivedas a counterpart to the eagle, the master-piece of the winged creation.Keen-eyed, strongly-knit though small-boned, bereft of every fibreof superfluous flesh on their sinewy limbs, with bold brown faces andsharply-cut features, suggesting the king of birds not merely by theaquiline nose, they had also the eagle's courage, thirst for blood, andgreed of victory.
Each held on to the raft by one lean, wiry arm, carrying on the otherthe round bucklers on which the arrows that came whistling from theboat, fell and stuck as soon as they were within shot. They ground theirwhite teeth with fury and nothing within ken escaped their bright hawk'seyes. They had come to fight, even if the boat had been defended byfifty Egyptian soldiers instead of carrying a score or so of sailors andartisans. Their brave hearts felt safe under their shirts of mail, andtheir ready, fertile brains under their brazen helmets; and they markedthe dull rattle of the arrows against their metal shields with elationand contempt. To deal death was the wish of their souls; to meet itcaused them no dread; for their glowing fancy painted an open Paradisewhere beautiful women awaited them open-armed, and brimming gobletspromised to satisfy every desire.
Their keen ears heard their captain's whispered commands; when theyreached the ship's side, one caught hold of the sill of the cabinwindow, their leader, as quick as thought, sprang on to his shoulders,and from thence on to the deck, thrusting his lance through the body ofa sailor who tried to stop him with his axe. A second Arab was closeat his heels; two gleaming scimitars flashed in the sun, the shrill,guttural, savage war-cry of the Moslems rent the air, and the captainfell, the first victim to their blood-thirsty fury, with a deep cutacross the face and forehead; in a moment, however, a heavy spar sangthrough the air down on the head of the Moslem leader and laid him low.The helmsman, the brother of the fallen pilot, had wielded it with themight of the avenger.
A fearful din, increased by the shrieks and wailing of the nuns, nowfilled the vessel. The second Arab dealt death on all sides with thecourage and strength of desperation, and three of his fellows managedto climb up the boat's side; but the last man was pushed back into thewater. By this time two of the shipwrights and five sailors had fallen.Rufinus was kneeling by the captain, who was crying feebly for help,bleeding profusely, though not mortally wounded. Setnau had spoken withmuch anxiety of his wife and children, and Rufinus, hoping to save hislife for their sakes, was binding up the wounds, which were wide anddeep, when suddenly a sabre stroke came down on the back of his headand neck, and a dark stream of blood rushed forth. But he, too, was soonavenged: the old shipwright hewed down his foe with his heavy axe. Onthe eastern shore, meanwhile, the men
charged to kill the Arabs' horseswere doing their work, so as to prevent any who might escape fromreturning to Fostat, or riding forward to Doormat and reporting what hadoccurred.
On board silence now prevailed. All five Arabs were stretched on thedeck, and the insatiate boatmen were dealing a finishing stroke to thosewho were only wounded. A sailor, who had taken refuge up a mast, couldsee how the other five horsemen had plunged into the bog to avoid thefire and had disappeared beneath the waters; so that none of the Moslemshad escaped alive--not even that one which Fate and romance love to saveas a bearer of the disastrous tidings.
By degrees the nuns ventured out on deck again.
Those who were skilled in tending the wounded gathered round them, andopened their medicine cases; as they proceeded on their voyage, underthe guidance of the steersman, they had their hands full of work and thezeal they gave to it mitigated the torment of the heat.
The bodies of the five Moslems and eight Christians--among these, two ofthe Greek ship-wrights--were laid on the shore in groups apart, in theneighborhood of a village; in the hand of one of them the abbess placeda tablet with this inscription:
"These eight Christians met their death bravely fighting to defend aparty of pious and persecuted believers. Pray for them and bury them aswell as those who, in obedience to their duty and their commander, tooktheir lives."
Rufinus, lying with his head on the gardener's knee, and sheltered fromthe sun under the abbess' umbrella, presently recovered his senses;looking about him he said to himself in a low voice, as he saw thecaptain lying by his side:
"I, too, had a wife and a dear child at home, and yet--Ah! how thisaches! We may well do all we can to soothe such pain. The only realityhere below is not pleasure, it is pain, vulgar, physical pain; andthough my head burns and aches more than enough.--Water, a drink ofwater.--How comfortable I could be at this moment with my Joanna, inour shady house.--But yet, but yet--we must heal or save, it is all thesame, any who need it.--A drink--wine and water, if it is to be had,worthy Mother!"
The abbess had it at hand; as she put the cup to his lips she spoke herwarm and effusive thanks, and many words of comfort; then she asked himwhat she could do for him and his, when they should be in safety.
"Love them truly," he said gently. "Pul will certainly never be quitehappy till she is in a convent. But she must not leave her mother--shemust stay with her; Joanna-Joanna...."
He repeated the name several times as if the sound pleased his earand heart. Then he shuddered again and again, and muttered to himself:"Brrr!--a cold shiver runs all over me--it is of no use!--The cut in myshoulder.--It is my head that hurts worst, but the other--it is bad luckthat it should have fallen on the left side. And yet, no; it is best so;for if he--if it had damaged my right shoulder I could not write, and Imust--I must-before it is too late. A tablet and stylus; quick,quick! And when I have written, good mother, close the tablet and sealit--close and tight. Promise! Only one person may read it, he to whom itmust go.--Gibbus, do you hear, Gibbus?--It is for Philippus the leech.Take it to him.--Your dream about a rose on your hump, if I readrightly, means that peace and joy in Heaven blossom from our misery onearth.--Yes, to Philippus. And listen my old school friend Christodorus,a leech too, lives at Doomiat. Take my body to him--mind me now? He isto pack it with sand which will preserve it, and have it buried by theside of my mother at Alexandria. Joanna and the child--they can come andvisit me there. I have not much to leave; whatever that may cost...."
"That is my affair, or the convent's," cried the abbess.
"Matters are not so bad as that," said the old man smiling. "I can payfor my own share of the business; your revenue belongs to the poor,noble Mother.--You will find more than enough in this wallet, goodGibbus. But now, quick, make haste--the tablets."
When he had one in his hand, and a stylus for writing with, he thoughtfor some time, and then wrote with trembling fingers, though exertingall his strength. How acutely he was suffering could be seen inhis drawn mouth and sad eyes, but he would not allow himself to beinterrupted, often as the abbess and the gardener entreated him to layaside the stylus. At last, with a deep sigh of relief, he closed thetablets, handed them to the abbess, and said:
"There! Close it fast.--To Philippus the physician; into his own hand:You hear, Gibbus?"
Here he fainted; but after they had bathed his forehead and wounds hecame to himself, and softly murmured: "I was dreaming of Joanna and thepoor child. They brought me a comic mask. What can that mean? That Ihave been a fool all my life for thinking of other folks' troubles andforgetting myself and my own family? No, no, no! As surely as man is thestandard of all things--if it were so, then, then folly would be truthand right.--I, I--my desire--the aim to which my life was devoted...."
He paused; then he suddenly raised himself, looked up with a brightlight in his eyes, and cried aloud with joy: "O Thou, most mercifulSaviour! Yes, yes--I see it all now. I thank thee--All that I strove forand lived for, Thou, my Redeemer who art Love itself--Ah how good, howcomforting to think of that!--It is for this that Thou grantest me todie!"
Again he lost consciousness; his head grew very hot, his breath camehoarsely and his parched lips, though frequently moistened by carefulhands, could only murmur the names of those he loved best, and amongthem that of Paula.
At about five hours after noon he fell back on the hunchback's knees;he had ceased to suffer. A happy smile lighted up his features, and indeath the old man's calm face looked like that of a child.
The gardener felt as though he had lost his own father, and his livelytongue remained speechless till he entered Doormat with the rescuedsisters, and proceeded to carry out his master's last orders. Theabbess' ship took the wounded captain Setnau on board, with his wife,his children, his brother the steersman, and the surviving ship-wrights.
At the very hour when Rufinus closed his eyes, the town-watch ofMemphis, led by Bishop Plotinus, appeared to claim the Melchite conventof St. Cecilia, and all the possessions of the sisterhood, in the nameof the patriarch and the Jacobite church. Next morning the bishop setout for Upper Egypt to make his report to the prelate.