CHAPTER III.
Antinous, searching for his master, had wandered about in the crowd.Whenever he saw any figures of exceptional stature he followed them, buteach time only to discover that he had entered on a false track. Longand persistent effort was not in his nature, so as soon as he began toget tired, he gave up the search and sat down again on a stone bench inthe garden of the Paneum.
Two cynic philosophers, with unkempt hair, tangled beards, and raggedcloaks flung over their shivering bodies, sat down by him and fell intoloud and contemptuous abuse of the deference shown, 'in these days,'to external things and vulgar joys, and of the wretched sensualists whoregarded pleasure and splendor, rather than virtue, as the aim and endof existence. In order to be heard by the by-standers they spoke inloud tones, and the elder of the two, flourished his knotted stickas viciously, as though he had to defend himself against an attack.Antinous felt much disgusted by the hideous appearance, the coarsemanners, and shrill voices of these persons, and when he rose--as thecynics' diatribe seemed especially directed against him--they scoffed athim as he went, mocking at his costume and his oiled and perfumed hair.The Bithynian made no reply to this abuse. It was odious to him, but hethought it might perhaps have amused Caesar.
He wandered on without thinking; the street in which he presently foundhimself must no doubt lead to the sea, and if he could once find himselfon the shore he could not fail to make his way to Lochias. By thetime it was growing dark he was once more standing outside the littlegate-house, and there he learnt from Doris that the Roman and her sonhad not yet returned.
What was he to do alone in the vast empty palace? Were not thevery slaves free to-day? Why should not he too for once enjoy lifeindependently and in his own way? Full of the pleasant sense of beinghis own master and at liberty to walk in a road of his own choosing,he went onwards, and when he presently passed by the stall of aflower-seller, he began once more to think eagerly of Selene and thenosegay, which must long since have reached her hands.
He had heard from Pollux in the morning that the steward's daughter wasbeing tended by Christians in a little house not far from the sea-shore;indeed the sculptor himself had been quite excited as he told Antinousthat he himself had peeped into the lighted room and had seen her. 'Aglorious creature' he had called her, and had said that she had neverlooked more beautiful than in a recumbent attitude on her bed.
Antinous recalled all this and determined to venture on an attempt tosee again the maiden whose image filled his heart and brain.
It was now dark and the same light which had allowed of the sculptor'sseeing Selene's features might this evening reveal them to him also.Full of passion and excitement, he got into the first litter he metwith. The swarthy bearers were far too slow for his longing, and morethan once he flung to them as much money as they were wont to earn ina week, to urge them to a brisker pace. At last he reached hisdestination; but seeing that several men and women robed in white, weregoing into the garden, he desired the bearers to carry him farther.Close to a dark narrow lane which bounded the widow's garden-plot on theeast and led directly to the sea, he desired them to stop, got out ofthe litter and bid the slaves wait for him. At the garden door he stillfound two men dressed in white, and one of the cynic philosophers whohad sat by him on the bench near the Paneum. He paced impatiently upand clown, waiting till these people should have disappeared, and thuspassing again and again under the light of the torches that were stuckup by the gate.
The dry cynic's prominent eyes were everywhere at once, and as soon ashe perceived the peripatetic Bithynian he flung up his arm, exclaiming,as he pointed to him with a long, lean, stiff forefinger--half to theChristians with whom he had been talking and half to the lad himself:
"What does he want. That fop! that over-dressed minion! I know thefellow; with his smooth face and the silver quiver on his shoulder hebelieves he is Eros in person. Be off with you, you house-rat. The womenand girls in here know how to protect themselves against the sort whoparade the streets in rose-colored draperies. Take yourself off, or youwill make acquaintance with the noble Paulina's slaves and clogs. Hi!gate-keeper, here! keep an eye on this fellow."
Antinous made no answer, but slowly went back to his litter.
"To-morrow perhaps, if I cannot manage it tonight," he thought tohimself as he went; and he never thought of any other means of attaininghis end, much as he longed for it. A hindrance that came in his wayceased to be a hindrance as soon as he had left it behind him, and afterthis reflection he acted on this occasion as on many former ones. Thelitter was no longer standing where he had left it; the bearers hadcarried it into the lane leading to the sea, for the only little abodewhich stood on the eastern side of it belonged to a fisherman whose wifesold thin potations of Pelusium beer.
Antinous went down the green alley overarched with boughs of fig, tocall the negroes who were sitting in the dull light of a smoky oil-lamp.Here it was dark, but at the end of the alley the sea shone and sparkledin the moonlight; the splashing of the waves tempted him onwards and heloitered clown to the stone-bound shore. There he spied a boat dancingon the water between two piles and it came into his head that it mightbe possible to see the house where Selene was sleeping, from the sea.
He undid the rope which secured the boat without any difficulty; heseated himself in it, laid aside the quiver and bow, pushed off with oneof the oars that lay at the bottom of the boat and pulled with steadystrokes towards the long path of light where the moon touched the crestof each dancing wavelet with unresting tremulous flecks of silver.
There lay the widow's garden. In that small white house must thefair pale Selene be sleeping, but though he rowed hither and thither,backwards and forwards, he could not succeed in discovering the windowof which Pollux had spoken. Might it not be possible to find a spotwhere he could disembark and then make his way into the garden? He couldsee two little boats, but they lay in a narrow walled canal and thiswas closed by an iron railing. Beyond, was a terrace projecting into thesea, and surrounded by an elegant balustrade of little columns, but itrose straight out of the sea on smooth high walls. But there--what wasthat gleaming under the two palm-trees which, springing from the sameroot, had grown together tall and slender--was not that a flight ofmarble steps leading down to the sea?
Antinous dipped his right oar in the waves with a practised hand toalter the head of the boat and was in the act of pulling his hand upto make his stroke against the pressure of the waves--but he did notcomplete the movement, nay he counteracted the stroke by a dexterousreverse action; a strange vision arrested his attention. On the terrace,which lay full in the bright moonlight, there appeared a white-robedfigure with long floating hair.
How strangely it moved! It went now to one side and now to the other,then again it stood still and clasped its head in its hands. Antinousshuddered, he could not help thinking of the Daimons of which Hadrian sooften spoke. They were said to be of half-divine and half-human nature,and sometimes appeared in the guise of mortals.
Or was Selene dead and was the white figure her wandering shade?Antinous clutched the handles of the oars, now merely floating on thewater, and bending forward gazed fixedly and with bated breath at themysterious being which had now reached the balustrade of the terrace,now--he saw quite plainly--covered its face with both hands, leaned farover the parapet, and now as a star falls through the sky on a clearnight, as a fruit drops from the tree in autumn, the white form of thegirl dropped from the terrace. A loud cry of anguish broke the silenceof the night which veiled the world, and almost at the same instant thewater splashed and gurgled up, and the moonbeams, cold and bright asever, were mirrored in the thousand drops that flew up from its surface.
Was this Antinous, the indolent dreamer, who so promptly plunged hisoars in the water, pulled a powerful stroke, and then, when in a fewseconds after her fall, the form of the drowning girl came to thesurface again quite close to the boat, flung aside the oar that was inhis way? Leaning far over the edge of the boat he seized t
he floatinggarment of the drowning creature--it was a woman, no Daimon norshade--and drew her towards him. He succeeded in raising her high out ofthe waves, but when he tried to pull her fairly out of her watery bed,the weight, all on one side of the boat, was too great; it turned overand Antinous was in the sea.
The Bithyman was a good swimmer. Before the white form could sink asecond time he had caught at it once more with his right hand and takingcare that her head should not again touch the surface of the water, heswam with his left arm and legs towards the spot where he rememberedhe had seen the flight of steps. As soon as his feet felt the ground helifted the girl in both arms and a groan of relief broke from his lipsas he saw the marble steps close below him. He went up them withouthesitation, and then, with a swift elastic step, carried his drippingand senseless burden to the terrace where he had observed that therewere benches. The wide floor of the sea-terrace, paved with smoothflags of marble, was brightly lighted by the broad moonshine, and thewhiteness of the stone reflected and seemed to increase the light. Therestood the benches which Antinous had seen from afar.
He laid his burden on the first he came to, and a thrill of thankful joywarmed his shivering body when the rescued woman uttered a low cry ofpain which told him that he had not toiled in vain. He gently slippedhis arm between the hard elbow of the marble seat and her head, to giveit a somewhat softer resting-place. Her abundant hair fell in clammytresses, covering her face like a thick but fine veil; he parted it tothe right and left and then--then he sank on his knees by her side as ifa sudden bolt had fallen from the blue sky above them; for the featureswere hers, Selene's, and the pale girl before whom he was kneeling wasshe herself, the woman he loved.
Almost beside himself and trembling in every limb, he drew her closerto him and put his ear against her mouth to listen whether he had notdeceived himself, whether she had not indeed fallen a victim to thewaves or whether some warm breath were passing the portals of her lips.
Yes she breathed! she was alive! Full of thankful ecstasy he pressed hischeek to hers. Oh! how cold she was, icy, cold as death!
The torch of life was flickering, but he would not--could not--must notlet it die out: and with all the care, rapidity and decision of the mostcapable man, he once more raised her, lifted her in both arms as if shewere a child, and carried her straight to the house whose white walls hecould see gleaming among the shrubs behind the terrace. The little lampwas still burning in dame Hannah's room, which Selene had so latelyquitted; in front of the window through which the dim light came tomingle with the moonbeams, lay the flowers whose perfume had so troubledthe suffering girl, and with them Hannah's clay jar, all still strewn onthe ground.
Was this nosegay his gift? Very likely.
But the lamp-lighted room into which he now looked could be none otherthan the sick-room, which he recognized from the sculptor's account. Thehousedoor was open and even that of the room in which he had seen thebed was unfastened; he pushed it open with his foot, entered the room,and laid Selene on the vacant couch.
There she lay as if dead; and as he looked at her immovable features,hallowed to solemnity by sorrow and suffering, his heart was touchedwith an ineffable solicitude, sympathy and pity; and, as a brothermight bend over a sleeping sister, he bent over Selene and kissed herforehead. She moved, opened her eyes, gazed into his face--but herglance was so full of horror, so vague, glassy and bewildered, that hedrew back with a shudder, and with hands uplifted could only stammerout: "Oh! Selene, Selene! do you not know me?" and as he spoke he lookedanxiously in the face of the rescued girl; but she seemed not to hearhim and nothing moved but her eyes which slowly followed his everymovement.
"Selene!" he cried again, and seizing her inanimate hand which hungdown, he pressed it passionately to his lips.
Then she gave a loud cry, a violent shiver shook her in every limb, sheturned aside with sighs and groans, and at the same instant the doorwas opened, the little deformed girl entered the room and gave a shrillscream of terror as she saw Antinous standing by the side of her friend.
The lad himself started and, like a thief who has been caught in theact, he fled out into the night, through the garden, and as far as thegate which led into the street without being stopped by any one. Herethe gate-keeper met him, but he threw him aside with a powerful fling,and while the old man--who had grown gray in his office--caught hold ofhis wet chiton he tore the door open and ran on, dragging his pursuerwith him for some paces. Then he flew down the street with long steps asif he were racing in the Gymnasium, and soon he felt that his pursuer,in whose hand he had left a piece of his garment, had given up thechase.
The gate-keeper's outcry had mingled with the pious hymns of theassembled Christians in Paulina's villa, and some of them had hurriedout to help capture the disturber of the peace. But the young Bithynianwas swifter than they and might consider himself perfectly safe whenonce he had succeeded in mixing with a festal procession. Half-willinglyand half-perforce, he followed the drunken throng which was making itsway from the heart of the city towards the lake, where, on a lonely spoton the shore to the east of Nikropolis, they were to celebrate certainnocturnal mysteries. The goal of the singing, shouting, howling mob withwhom Antinous was carried along, was between Alexandria and Canopus andfar enough from Lochias; thus it fell out that it was long past midnightwhen Hadrian's favorite, dirty, out of breath, and his clothes torn, atlast appeared in the presence of his master.