Hypatia — or New Foes with an Old Face

  CHAPTER XVI: VENUS AND PALLAS

  As Hypatia was passing across to her lecture-room that afternoon, shewas stopped midway by a procession of some twenty Goths and damsels,headed by Pelagia herself, in all her glory of jewels, shawls, andsnow-white mule; while by her side rode the Amal, his long legs, likethose of Gang-Rolf the Norseman, all but touching the ground, as hecrushed down with his weight a delicate little barb, the best substituteto be found in Alexandria for the huge black chargers of his nativeland.

  On they came, followed by a wondering and admiring mob, straight to thedoor of the Museum, and stopping began to dismount, while their slavestook charge of the mules and horses.

  There was no escape for Hypatia; pride forbade her to follow her ownmaidenly instinct, and to recoil among the crowd behind her; and inanother moment the Amal had lifted Pelagia from her mule, and the rivalbeauties of Alexandria stood, for the first time in their lives, face toface.

  'May Athene befriend you this day, Hypatia!' said Pelagia with hersweetest smile. 'I have brought my guards to hear somewhat of yourwisdom this afternoon. I am anxious to know whether you can teach Ahemanything more worth listening to than the foolish little songs whichAphrodite taught me, when she raised me from the sea-foam, as she roseherself, and named me Pelagia.'

  Hypatia drew herself up to her stateliest height, and returned noanswer.

  'I think my bodyguard will well hear comparison with yours. At leastthey are the princes and descendants of deities. So it is but fittingthat they should enter before your provincials. Will you show them theway?'

  No answer.

  'Then I must do it myself. Come, Amal!' and she swept up the steps,followed by the Goths, who put the Alexandrians aside right and left, asif they had been children.

  'Ah! treacherous wanton that you are!' cried a young man's voice outof the murmuring crowd. 'After having plundered us of every coin outof which you could dupe us, here you are squandering our patrimonies onbarbarians!'

  'Give us back our presents, Pelagia,' cried another, 'and you arewelcome to your herd of wild bulls!'

  'And I will!' cried she, stopping suddenly; and clutching at her chainsand bracelets, she was on the point of dashing them among the astonishedcrowd--

  'There! take your gifts! Pelagia and her girls scorn to be debtors toboys, while they are worshipped by men like these!'

  But the Amal, who, luckily for the students, had not understood a wordof this conversation, seized her arm, asking if she were mad.

  'No, no!' panted she, inarticulate with passion. 'Give me gold--everycoin you have. These wretches are twitting me with what they gave mebefore--before--oh Amal, you understand me?' And she clung imploringlyto his arm.

  'Oh! Heroes! each of you throw his purse among these fellows! they saythat we and our ladies are living on their spoils!' And he tossed hispurse among the crowd.

  In an instant every Goth had followed his example: more than onefollowing it up by dashing a bracelet or necklace into the face of somehapless philosophaster.

  'I have no lady, my young friends,' said old Wulf, in good enough Greek,'and owe you nothing: so I shall keep my money, as you might have keptyours; and as you might, too, old Smid, if you had been as wise as I.'

  'Don't be stingy, prince, for the honour of the Goths,' said Smid,laughing.

  'If I take in gold I pay in iron,' answered Wulf, drawing half out ofits sheath the huge broad blade, at the ominous brown stains of whichthe studentry recoiled; and the whole party swept into the emptylecture-room, and seated themselves at their ease in the front ranks.

  Poor Hypatia! At first she determined not to lecture--then to send forOrestes--then to call on her students to defend the sanctity of theMuseum; but pride, as well as prudence, advised her better; to retreatwould be to confess herself conquered--to disgrace philosophy--to loseher hold on the minds of all waverers. No! she would go on and braveeverything, insults, even violence; and with trembling limbs and a palecheek, she mounted the tribune and began.

  To her surprise and delight, however, her barbarian auditors wereperfectly well behaved. Pelagia, in childish good-humour at her triumph,and perhaps, too, determined to show her contempt for her adversary bygiving her every chance, enforced silence and attention, and checkedthe tittering of the girls, for a full half-hour. But at the end ofthat time the heavy breathing of the slumbering Amal, who had been twiceawoke by her, resounded unchecked through the lecture-room, and deepenedinto a snore; for Pelagia herself was as fast asleep as he. But nowanother censor took upon himself the office of keeping order. Old Wulf,from the moment Hypatia had begun, had never taken his eyes off herface; and again and again the maiden's weak heart had been cheered, asshe saw the smile of sturdy intelligence and honest satisfaction whichtwinkled over that scarred and bristly visage; while every now and thenthe graybeard wagged approval, until she found herself, long before theend of the oration, addressing herself straight to her new admirer.

  At last it was over, and the students behind, who had sat meekly throughit all, without the slightest wish to 'upset' the intruders, who had sothoroughly upset them, rose hurriedly, glad enough to get safe out of sodangerous a neighbourhood. But to their astonishment, as well as to thatof Hypatia, old Wulf rose also, and stumbling along to the foot of thetribune, pulled out his purse, and laid it at Hypatia's feet.

  'What is this?' asked she, half terrified at the approach of a figuremore rugged and barbaric than she had ever beheld before.

  'My fee for what I have heard to-day. You are a right noble maiden, andmay Freya send you a husband worthy of you, and make you the mother ofkings!'

  And Wulf retired with his party.

  Open homage to her rival, before her very face! Pelagia felt quiteinclined to hate old Wulf.

  But at least he was the only traitor. The rest of the Goths agreedunanimously that Hypatia was a very foolish person, who was wasting heryouth and beauty in talking to donkey-riders; and Pelagia remounted hermule, and the Goths their horses, for a triumphal procession homeward.

  And yet her heart was sad, even in her triumph. Right and wrong wereideas as unknown to her as they were to hundreds of thousands in herday. As far as her own consciousness was concerned, she was as destituteof a soul as the mule on which she rode. Gifted by nature with boundlessfrolic and good-humour, wit and cunning, her Greek taste for thephysically beautiful and graceful developed by long training, until shehad become, without a rival, the most perfect pantomime, dancer,and musician who catered for the luxurious tastes of the Alexandriantheatres, she had lived since her childhood only for enjoyment andvanity, and wished for nothing more. But her new affection, or ratherworship, for the huge manhood of her Gothic lover had awoke in her a newobject--to keep him--to live for him--to follow him to the ends of theearth, even if he tired of her, ill-used her, despised her. And slowly,day by day, Wulf's sneers bad awakened in her a dread that perhaps theAmal might despise her.... Why, she could not guess: but what sort ofwomen were those Alrunas of whom Wulf sang, of whom even the Amal andhis men spoke with reverence, as something nobler, not only than her,but even than themselves? And what was it which Wulf had recognised inHypatia which had bowed the stern and coarse old warrior before her inthat public homage?.... it was not difficult to say what.... But whyshould that make Hypatia or any one else attractive? And the poorlittle child of nature gazed in deep bewilderment at a crowd of newquestions, as a butterfly might at the pages of the book on which it hassettled, and was sad and discontented--not with herself, for was shenot Pelagia the perfect?--but with these strange fancies which cameinto other people's heads.--Why should not every one be as happy as theycould? And who knew better than she how to be happy, and to make othershappy?....

  'Look at that old monk standing on the pavement, Amalric! Why does hestare so at me? Tell him to go away.'

  The person at whom she pointed, a delicate-featured old man, with avenerable white beard, seemed to hear her; for he turned with a suddenstart, and then, to Pelagia's astonishment, put his hand
s before hisface, and burst convulsively into tears.

  'What does he mean by behaving in that way? Bring him here to me thismoment! I will know!' cried she, petulantly catching at the new object,in order to escape from her own thoughts.

  In a moment a Goth had led up the weeper, who came without demur to theside of Pelagia's mule.

  'Why were you so rude as to burst out crying in my face?' asked shepetulantly.

  The old man looked up sadly and tenderly, and answered in a low voice,meant only for her ear--

  'And how can I help weeping, when I see anything as beautiful as you aredestined to the flames of hell for ever?'

  'The flames of hell?' said Pelagia, with a shudder. 'What for?'

  'Do you not know?' asked the old man, with a look of sad surprise. 'Haveyou forgotten what you are?'

  'I? I never hurt a fly!'

  'Why do you look so terrified, my darling? What have you been saying toher, you old villain?' and the Amal raised his whip.

  'Oh! do not strike him. Come, come to-morrow, and tell me what youmean.'

  'No, we will have no monks within our doors, frightening silly women.Off, sirrah! and thank the lady that you have escaped with a wholeskin.' And the Amal caught the bridle of Pelagia's mule, and pushedforward, leaving the old man gazing sadly after them.

  But the beautiful sinner was evidently not the object which had broughtthe old monk of the desert into a neighbourhood so strange and ungenialto his habits; for, recovering himself in a few moments, he hurried onto the door of the Museum, and there planted himself, scanning earnestlythe faces of the passers-out, and meeting, of course, with his due shareof student ribaldry.

  'Well, old cat, and what mouse are you on the watch for, at the hole'smouth here?'

  'Just come inside, and see whether the mice will not singe your whiskersfor you....'

  'Here is my mouse, gentlemen,' answered the old monk, with a bow anda smile, as he laid his hand on Philammon's arm, and presented to hisastonished eyes the delicate features and high retreating forehead ofArsenius.

  'My father,' cried the boy, in the first impulse of affectionaterecognition; and then--he had expected some such meeting all along, butnow that it was come at last, he turned pale as death. The students sawhis emotion.

  'Hands off, old Heautontimoroumenos! He belongs to our guild now! Monkshave no more business with sons than with wives. Shall we hustle him foryou, Philammon?'

  'Take care how you show off, gentlemen: the Goths are not yet out ofhearing!' answered Philammon, who was learning fast how to give a smartanswer; and then, fearing the temper of the young dandies, and shrinkingfrom the notion of any insult to one so reverend and so beloved asArsenius, he drew the old man gently away, and walked up the street withhim in silence, dreading what was coming.

  'And are these your friends?'

  'Heaven forbid! I have nothing in common with such animals but flesh andblood, and a seat in the lecture-room!'

  'Of the heathen woman?'

  Philammon, after the fashion of young men in fear, rushed desperatelyinto the subject himself, just because he dreaded Arsenius's entering onit quietly.

  'Yes, of the heathen woman. Of course you have seen Cyril before youcame hither?'

  'I have, and--'

  'And,' went on Philammon, interrupting him, 'you have been told everylie which prurience, stupidity, and revenge can invent. That I havetrampled on the cross--sacrificed to all the deities in the pantheon-andprobably'--(and he blushed scarlet)--'that that purest and holiest ofbeings--who, if she were not what people call a pagan, would be, anddeserves to be, worshipped as the queen of saints--that she--and I--'and he stopped.

  'Have I said that I believed what I may have heard?'

  'No--and therefore, as they are all simple and sheer falsehoods, thereis no more to be said on the subject. Not that I shall not be delightedto answer any questions of yours, my dearest father--'

  'Have I asked any, my child?'

  'No. So we may as well change the subject for the present,'--and hebegan overwhelming the old man with inquiries about himself, Pambo, andeach and all of the inhabitants of the Laura to which Arsenius, tothe boy's infinite relief, answered cordially and minutely, and evenvouchsafed a smile at some jest of Philammon's on the contrast betweenthe monks of Nitria and those of Scetis.

  Arsenius was too wise not to see well enough what all this flippancymeant; and too wise, also, not to know that Philammon's version wasprobably quite as near the truth as Peter's and Cyril's; but for reasonsof his own, merely replied by an affectionate look, and a compliment toPhilammon's growth.

  And yet you seem thin and pale, my boy.'

  'Study,' said Philammon, 'study. One cannot burn the midnight oilwithout paying some penalty for it.... However, I am richly repaidalready; I shall be more so hereafter.'

  'Let us hope so. But who are those Goths whom I passed in the streetsjust now?'

  'Ah! my father,' said Philammon, glad in his heart of any excuse toturn the conversation, and yet half uneasy and suspicious at Arsenius'sevident determination to avoid the very object of his visit. 'It musthave been you, then, whom I saw stop and speak to Pelagia at the fartherend of the street. What words could you possibly have had wherewith tohonour such a creature?'

  'God knows. Some secret sympathy touched my heart.... Alas! poor child!But how came you to know her?'

  'All Alexandria knows the shameless abomination,' interrupted a voiceat their elbow--none other than that of the little porter, who hadbeen dodging and watching the pair the whole way, and could no longerrestrain his longing to meddle. 'And well it had been for many a richyoung man had odd Miriam never brought her over, in an evil day, fromAthens hither.'

  'Miriam?'

  'Yes, monk; a name not unknown, I am told, in palaces as well as inslave-markets.'

  'An evil-eyed old Jewess?'

  'A Jewess she is, as her name might have informed you; and as for hereyes, I consider them, or used to do so, of course--for her injurednation have been long expelled from Alexandria by your fanatic tribe--asaltogether divine and demoniac, let the base imagination of monks callthem what it likes.'

  'But how did you know this Pelagia, my son? She is no fit company forsuch as you.'

  Philammon told, honestly enough, the story of his Nile journey, andPelagia's invitation to him.

  'You did not surely accept it?'

  'Heaven forbid that Hypatia's scholar should so degrade himself!'

  Arsenius shook his head sadly.

  'You would not have had me go?'

  'No, boy. But how long hast thou learned to call thyself Hypatia'sscholar, or to call it a degradation to visit the most sinful, ifthou mightest thereby bring back a lost lamb to the Good Shepherd?Nevertheless, thou art too young for such employment--and she meant totempt thee doubtless.'

  'I do not think it. She seemed struck by my talking Athenian Greek, andhaving come from Athens.'

  'And how long since she came from Athens?' said Arsenius, after a pause.'Who knows?'

  'Just after it was sacked by the barbarians,' said the little porter,who, beginning to suspect a mystery, was peaking and peering likean excited parrot. 'The old dame brought her hither among a cargo ofcaptive boys and girls.'

  'The time agrees.... Can this Miriam be found?'

  'A sapient and courteous question for a monk to ask! Do you not knowthat Cyril has expelled all Jews four months ago?'

  'True, true.... Alas!' said the old man to himself, 'how littlethe rulers of this world guess their own power! They move a fingercarelessly, and forget that that finger may crush to death hundredswhose names they never heard--and every soul of them as precious inGod's sight as Cyril's own.'

  'What is the matter, my father?' asked Philammon. 'You seem deeply movedabout this woman....'

  'And she is Miriam's slave?'

  'Her freedwoman this four years past,' said the porter. 'The goodlady--for reasons doubtless excellent in themselves, though notaltogether patent to the philosophic mind--
thought good to turn herloose on the Alexandrian republic, to seek what she might devour.'

  'God help her! And you are certain that Miriam is not in Alexandria?'

  The little porter turned very red, and Philammon did so likewise; but heremembered his promise, and kept it.

  'You both know something of her, I can see. You cannot deceive anold statesman, sir!'--turning to the little porter with a look ofauthority--'poor monk though he be now. If you think fitting to tell mewhat you know, I promise you that neither she nor you shall be losers byyour confidence in me. If not, I shall find means to discover.'

  Both stood silent.

  'Philammon, my son! and art thou too in league against--no, not againstme; against thyself, poor misguided boy?'

  'Against myself?'

  'Yes--I have said it. But unless you will trust me, I cannot trust you.'

  'I have promised.'

  'And I, sir statesman, or monk, or both, or neither, have sworn by theimmortal gods!' said the porter, looking very big.

  Arsenius paused.

  'There are those who hold that an oath by an idol, being nothing, is ofitself void. I do not agree with them. If thou thinkest it sin to breakthine oath, to thee it is sin. And for thee, my poor child, thy promiseis sacred, were it made to Iscariot himself. But hear me. Can either ofyou, by asking this woman, be so far absolved as to give me speech ofher? Tell her--that is, if she be in Alexandria, which God grant--allthat has passed between us here, and tell her, on the solemn oath of aChristian, that Arsenius, whose name she knows well, will neither injurenor betray her. Will you do this?'

  'Arsenius?' said the little porter, with a look of mingled awe and pity.

  The old man smiled. 'Arsenius, who was once called the Father of theEmperors. Even she will trust that name.'

  'I will go this moment' sir; I will fly!' and off rushed the littleporter.

  'The little fellow forgets,' said Arsenius, with a smile, 'to how muchhe has confessed already, and how easy it were now to trace him to theold hag's lair.... Philammon, my son.... I have many tears to weep overthee--but they must wait a while, I have thee safe now,' and the old manclutched his arm. 'Thou wilt not leave thy poor old father? Thou wiltnot desert me for the heathen woman?'

  'I will stay with you, I promise you, indeed! if--if you will not sayunjust things of her.'

  'I will speak evil of no one, accuse no one, but myself. I will not sayone harsh word to thee, my poor boy. But listen now! Thou knowest thatthou camest from Athens. Knowest thou that it was I who brought theehither?'

  'You?'

  'I, my son: but when I brought thee to the Laura, it seemed right thatthou, as the son of a noble gentleman, shouldest hear nothing of it.But tell me: dost thou recollect father or mother, brother or sister; oranything of thy home in Athens?'

  'No.'

  'Thanks be to God. But, Philammon, if thou hadst had a sister-hush! Andif--I only say if--,

  'A sister!' interrupted Philammon. 'Pelagia?'

  'God forbid, my son! But a sister thou hadst once--some three yearsolder than thee she seemed.'

  'What! did you know her?'

  'I saw her but once--on one sad day.--Poor children both! I will notsadden you by telling you where and how.'

  'And why did you not bring her hither with me? You surely had not theheart to part us?'

  'Ah, my son, what right had an old monk with a fair young girl? And,indeed, even had I had the courage, it would have been impossible. Therewere others, richer than I, to whose covetousness her youth and beautyseemed a precious prize. When I saw her last, she was in company with anancient Jewess. Heaven grant that this Miriam may prove to be the one!'

  'And I have a sister!' gasped Philammon, his eyes bursting with tears.'We must find her! You will help me?--Now--this moment! There is nothingelse to be thought of, spoken of, done, henceforth, till she is found!'

  'Ah, my son, my son! Better, better, perhaps, to leave her in the handsof God! What if she were dead? To discover that, would be to discoverneedless sorrow. And what if--God grant that it be not so! she had onlya name to live, and were dead, worse than dead, in sinful pleasure--'

  'We would save her, or die trying to save her! Is it not enough forme that she is my sister?' Arsenius shook his head. He little knew thestrange new light and warmth which his words had poured in upon theyoung heart beside him. 'A sister!' What mysterious virtue was there inthat simple word, which made Philammon's brain reel and his heart throbmadly? A sister! not merely a friend, an equal, a help-mate, givenby God Himself, for loving whom none, not even a monk, could blamehim.--Not merely something delicate, weak, beautiful--for of course shemust be beautiful-whom he might cherish, guide, support, deliver, diefor, and find death delicious. Yes--all that, and more than that, layin the sacred word. For those divided and partial notions had flittedacross his mind too rapidly to stir such passion as moved him now; eventhe hint of her sin and danger had been heard heedlessly, if heard atall. It was the word itself which bore its own message, its own spellto the heart of the fatherless and motherless foundling, as he faced forthe first time the deep, everlasting, divine reality of kindred.... Asister! of his own flesh and blood--born of the same father, thesame mother--his, his, for ever! How hollow and fleeting seemed all'spiritual sonships,' 'spiritual daughterhoods,' inventions of thechanging fancy, the wayward will of man! Arsenius--Pambo--ay, Hypatiaherself--what were they to him now? Here was a real relationship .... Asister! What else was worth caring for upon earth?

  'And she was at Athens when Pelagia was'--he cried at last--'perhapsknew her--let us go to Pelagia herself!'

  'Heaven forbid!' said Arsenius. 'We must wait at least till Miriam'sanswer comes.'

  'I can show you her house at least in the meanwhile; and you can go inyourself when you will. I do not ask to enter. Come! I feel certain thatmy finding her is in some way bound up with Pelagia. Had I not met heron the Nile, had you not met her in the street, I might never have heardthat I had a sister. And if she went with Miriam, Pelagia must knowher--she may be in that very house at this moment!'

  Arsenius had his reasons for suspecting that Philammon was but tooright. But he contented himself with yielding to the boy's excitement,and set off with him in the direction of the dancer's house.

  They were within a few yards of the gate, when hurried footsteps behindthem, and voices calling them by name, made them turn; and behold,evidently to the disgust of Arsenius as much as Philammon himself, Peterthe Reader and a large party of monks!

  Philammon's first impulse was to escape; Arsenius himself caught him bythe arm, and seemed inclined to hurry on.

  'No!' thought the youth, 'am I not a free man, and a philosopher?' andfacing round, he awaited the enemy.

  'Ah, young apostate! So you have found him, reverend and ill-used sir.Praised be Heaven for this rapid success!'

  'My good friend,' asked Arsenius, in a trembling voice, 'what brings youhere?'

  'Heaven forbid that I should have allowed your sanctity and age togo forth without some guard against the insults and violence of thiswretched youth and his profligate companions. We have been following youafar off all the morning, with hearts full of filial solicitude.'

  'Many thanks; but indeed your kindness has been superfluous. My sonhere, from whom I have met with nothing but affection, and whom, indeed,I believe far more innocent than report declared him, is about to returnpeaceably with me. Are you not, Philammon?'

  'Alas! my father'' said Philammon, with an effort, 'how can I findcourage to say it'?--but I cannot return with you.'

  'Cannot return?'

  'I vowed that I would never again cross that threshold till--'

  'And Cyril does. He bade me, indeed he bade me, assure you that he wouldreceive you back as a son, and forgive and forget all the past.'

  'Forgive and forget? That is my part--not his. Will he right me againstthat tyrant and his crew? Will he proclaim me openly to be an innocentand persecuted man, unjustly beaten and driven forth for obeying his ow
ncommands? Till he does that, I shall not forget that I am a free man.'

  'A free man!' said Peter, with an unpleasant smile; 'that remains tobe proved, my gay youth; and will need more evidence than that smartphilosophic cloak and those well-curled locks which you have adoptedsince I saw you last.'

  'Remains to be proved?'

  Arsenius made an imploring gesture to Peter to be silent.

  'Nay, sir. As I foretold to you, this one way alone remains; theblame of it, if there be blame, must rest on the unhappy youth whoseperversity renders it necessary.'

  'For God's sake, spare me!' cried the old man, dragging Peter aside,while Philammon stood astonished, divided between indignation and vaguedread.

  'Did I not tell you again and again that I never could bring myself tocall a Christian man my slave? And him, above all, my spiritual son?'

  'And, most reverend sir, whose zeal is only surpassed by your tendernessand mercy, did not the holy patriarch assure you that your scruples weregroundless? Do you think that either he or I can have less horror thanyou have of slavery in itself? Heaven forbid! But when an immortal soulis at stake--when a lost lamb is to be brought back to the fold--surelyyou may employ the authority which the law gives you for the salvationof that precious charge committed to you? What could be more conclusivethan his Holiness's argument this morning? "Christians are bound toobey the laws of this world for conscience' sake, even though, in theabstract, they may disapprove of them, and deny their authority. Then,by parity of reasoning, it must be lawful for them to take the advantagewhich those same laws offer them, when by so doing the glory of God maybe advanced."'

  Arsenius still hung back, with eyes brimming with tears; but Philammonhimself put an end to the parley.

  'What is the meaning of all this? Are you, too, in a conspiracy againstme? Speak, Arsenius!'

  'This is the meaning of it, blinded sinner!' cried Peter. 'That you areby law the slave of Arsenius, lawfully bought with his money in the cityof Ravenna; and that he has the power, and, as I trust, for the sake ofyour salvation, the will also, to compel you to accompany him.'

  Philammon recoiled across the pavement, with eyes flashing defiance. Aslave! The light of heaven grew black to him.... Oh, that Hypatia mightnever know his shame! Yet it was impossible. Too dreadful to be true....

  'You lie!' almost shrieked he. 'I am the son of a noble citizen ofAthens. Arsenius told me so, but this moment, with his own lips!'

  'Ah, but he bought you--bought you in the public market; and he canprove it!'

  'Hear me--hear me, my son!' cried the old man, springing toward him.Philammon, in his fury, mistook the gesture and thrust him fiercelyback.

  'Your son!--your slave! Do not insult the name of son by applying it tome. Yes, sir; your slave in body, but not in soul! Ay, seize me--draghome the fugitive--scourge him--brand him--chain him in the mill, if youcan; but even for that the free heart has a remedy. If you will not letme live as a philosopher, you shall see me die like one!'

  'Seize the fellow, my brethren!' cried Peter, while Arsenius, utterlyunable to restrain either party, hid his face and wept.

  'Wretches!' cried the boy; 'you shall never take me alive, while I haveteeth or nails left. Treat me as a brute beast, and I will defend myselfas such!'

  'Out of the way there, rascals! Place for the Prefect! What are yousquabbling about here, you unmannerly monks?' shouted peremptory voicesfrom behind. The crowd parted, and disclosed the apparitors of Orestes,who followed in his robes of office.

  A sudden hope flashed before Philammon, and in an instant he had burstthrough the mob, and was clinging to the Prefect's chariot.

  'I am a free-born Athenian, whom these monks wish to kidnap back intoslavery! I claim your protection!'

  'And you shall have it, right or wrong, my handsome fellow. By Heaven,you are much too good-looking to be made a monk of! What do you mean,you villains, by attempting to kidnap free men? Is it not enough for youto lock up every mad girl whom you can dupe, but you must--'

  'His master is here present, your Excellency, who will swear to thepurchase.'

  'Or to anything else for the glory of God. Out of the way! And takecare, you tall scoundrel, that I do not get a handle against you. Youhave been one of my marked men for many a month. Off!'

  'His master demands the rights of the law as a Roman citizen,' saidPeter, pushing forward Arsenius.

  'If he be a Roman citizen, let him come and make his claim at thetribune to-morrow, in legal form. But I would have you remember, ancientsir, that I shall require you to prove your citizenship before weproceed to the question of purchase.'

  'The law does not demand that,' quoth Peter.

  'Knock that fellow down, apparitor!' Whereat Peter vanished, and anominous growl rose from the mob of monks.

  'What am I to do, most noble sir?' said Philammon.

  'Whatever you like, till the third hour to-morrow--if you are foolenough to appear at the tribune. If you will take my advice' you willknock down these fellows right and left, and run for your life.' AndOrestes drove on.

  Philammon saw that it was his only chance, and did so; and in anotherminute he found himself rushing headlong into the archway of Pelagia'shouse, with a dozen monks at his heels. As luck would have it, the outergates, at which the Goths had just entered, were still open; but theinner ones which led into the court beyond were fast. He tried them,but in vain. There was an open door in the wall on his right: he rushedthrough it, into a long range of stables, and into the arms of Wulf andSmid, who were unsaddling and feeding, like true warriors, their ownhorses.

  'Souls of my fathers!' shouted Smid, 'here's our young monk come back!What brings you here head over heels in this way, young curly-pate?'

  'Save me from those wretches!' pointing to the monks, who were peepinginto the doorway.

  Wulf seemed to understand it all in a moment; for, snatching up a heavywhip, he rushed at the foe, and with a few tremendous strokes clearedthe doorway, and shut-to the door.

  Philammon was going to explain and thank, but Smid stopped his mouth.

  'Never mind, young one, you are our guest now. Come in, and you shall beas welcome as ever. See what comes of running away from us at first.'

  'You do not seem to have benefited much by leaving me for the monks,'said old Wulf. 'Come in by the inner door. Smid! go and turn those monksout of the gateway.'

  But the mob, after battering the door for a few minutes, had yieldedto the agonised entreaties of Peter, who assured them that if thoseincarnate fiends once broke out upon them, they would not leave aChristian alive in Alexandria. So it was agreed to leave a few to watchfor Philammon's coming out; and the rest, balked of their prey, turnedthe tide of their wrath against the Prefect, and rejoined the massof their party, who were still hanging round his chariot, ready formischief.

  In vain the hapless shepherd of the people attempted to drive on. Theapparitors were frightened and hung back; and without their help itwas impossible to force the horses through the mass of tossing arms andbeards in front. The matter was evidently growing serious.

  'The bitterest ruffians in all Nitria, your Excellency,' whispered oneof the guards, with a pale face; 'and two hundred of them at the least.The very same set, I will be sworn, who nearly murdered Dioscuros.'

  'If you will not allow me to proceed, my holy brethren,' said Orestes,trying to look collected, 'perhaps it will not be contrary to the canonsof the Church if I turn back. Leave the horses' heads alone. Why, inGod's name, what do you want?'

  'Do you fancy we have forgotten Hieracas?' cried a voice from the rear;and at that name, yell upon yell arose, till the mob, gaining couragefrom its own noise, burst out into open threats. 'Revenge for theblessed martyr Hieracas!' 'Revenge for the wrongs of the Church!' 'Downwith the friend of Heathens, Jews, and Barbarians!' 'Down with thefavourite of Hypatia!' 'Tyrant!' 'Butcher!' And the last epithet sosmote the delicate fancy of the crowd, that a general cry arose of'Kill the butcher!' and one furious monk attempted to clamber int
o thechariot. An apparitor tore him down, and was dragged to the ground inhis turn. The monks closed in. The guards, finding the enemy number tento their one, threw down their weapons in a panic, and vanished; and inanother minute the hopes of Hypatia and the gods would have been lostfor ever, and Alexandria robbed of the blessing of being ruled by themost finished gentleman south of the Mediterranean, had it not been forunexpected succour; of which it will be time enough, considering who andwhat is in danger, to speak in a future chapter.