CHAPTER XXVIII: WOMAN'S LOVE

  Pelagia had passed that night alone in sleepless sorrow, which was notdiminished by her finding herself the next morning palpably a prisonerin her own house. Her girls told her that they had orders--they wouldnot say from whom--to prevent her leaving her own apartments. And thoughsome of them made the announcement with sighs and tears of condolence,yet more than one, she could see, was well inclined to make her feelthat her power was over, and that there were others besides herself whomight aspire to the honour of reigning favourite.

  What matter to her? Whispers, sneers, and saucy answers fell on her earunheeded. She had one idol, and she had lost it; one power, and it hadfailed her. In the heaven above, and in the earth beneath, was neitherpeace, nor help, nor hope; nothing but black, blank, stupid terror anddespair. The little weak infant soul, which had just awakened in her,had been crushed and stunned in its very birth-hour; and instinctivelyshe crept away to the roof of the tower where her apartments were, tosit and weep alone.

  There she sat, hour after hour, beneath the shade of the large windsail,which served in all Alexandrian houses the double purpose of a shelterfrom the sun and a ventilator for the rooms below; and her eye rovedcarelessly over that endless sea of roofs and towers, and masts, andglittering canals, and gliding boats; but she saw none of them--nothingbut one beloved face, lost, lost for ever.

  At last a low whistle roused her from her dream. She looked up.Across the narrow lane, from one of the embrasures of the oppositehouse-parapet bright eyes were peering at her. She moved angrily toescape them.

  The whistle was repeated, and a head rose cautiously above theparapet.... It was Miriam's. Casting a careful look around, Pelagia wentforward. What could the old woman want with her?

  Miriam made interrogative signs, which Pelagia understood as asking herwhether she was alone; and the moment that an answer in the negative wasreturned, Miriam rose, tossed over to her feet a letter weighted with apebble, and then vanished again.

  'I have watched here all day! They refused me admittance below. Bewareof Wulf, of every one. Do not stir from your chamber. There is a plotto carry you off to-night, and give you up to your brother the monk; youare betrayed; be brave!'

  Pelagia read it with blanching cheek and staring eyes; and took, atleast, the last part of Miriam's advice. For walking down the stair, shepassed proudly through her own rooms, and commanding back the girls whowould have stayed her, with a voice and gesture at which they quailed,went straight down, the letter in her hand, to the apartment where theAmal usually spent his mid-day hours.

  As she approached the door, she heard loud voices within.... His!--yes;but Wulf's also. Her heart failed her, and she stopped a moment tolisten.... She heard Hypatia's name; and mad with curiosity, croucheddown at the lock, and hearkened to every word.

  'She will not accept me, Wulf.'

  'If she will not, she shall go farther and fare worse. Besides, I tellyou, she is hard run. It is her last chance, and she will jump at it.The Christians are mad with her; if a storm blows up, her life is notworth--that!'

  'It is a pity that we have not brought her hither already.'

  'It is; but we could not. We must not break with Orestes till the palaceis in our hands.'

  'And will it ever be in our hands, friend?'

  'Certain. We were round at every picquet last night, and the very notionof an Amal's heading them made them so eager, that we had to bribe themto be quiet rather than to rise.'

  'Odin! I wish I were among them now!'

  'Wait till the city rises. If the day pass over without a riot, I knownothing. The treasure is all on board, is it not?'

  'Yes, and the galleys ready. I have been working like a horse at themall the morning, as you would let me do nothing else. And Goderic willnot be back from the palace, you say, till nightfall!'

  'If we are attacked first, we are to throw up a fire signal to him, andhe is to come off hither with what Goths he can muster. If the palace isattacked first, he is to give us the signal, and we are to pack up androw round thither. And in the meanwhile he is to make that hound of aGreek prefect as drunk as he can.'

  'The Greek will see him under the table. He has drugs, I know, as allthese Roman rascals have, to sober him when he likes; and then hesets to work and drinks again. Send off old Smid, and let him beat thearmourer if he can.'

  'A very good thought!' said Wulf, and came out instantly for the purposeof putting it in practice.

  Pelagia had just time to retreat into an adjoining doorway: but she hadheard enough; and as Wulf passed, she sprang to him and caught him bythe arm.

  'Oh, come in hither! Speak to me one moment; for mercy's sake speakto me!' and she drew him, half against his will, into the chamber, andthrowing herself at his feet, broke out into a childlike wail.

  Wulf stood silent, utterly discomfited by this unexpected submission,where he had expected petulant and artful resistance. He almost feltguilty and ashamed, as he looked down into that beautiful imploringface, convulsed with simple sorrow, as of a child for a broken toy.....At last she spoke.

  'Oh, what have I done-what have I done? Why must you take him from me?What have I done but love him, honour him, worship him? I know you lovehim; and I love you for it.--I do indeed! But you--what is your loveto mine? Oh, I would die for him--be torn in pieces for him--now, thismoment!....

  Wulf was silent.

  'What have I done but love him? What could I wish but to make himhappy? I was rich enough, praised, and petted;.... and then he came,....glorious as he is, like a god among men--among apes rather--and Iworshipped him: was I wrong in that? I gave up all for him: was I wrongin that? I gave him myself: what could I do more? He condescended tolike me--he the hero! Could I help submitting? I loved him: could I helploving him? Did I wrong him in that? Cruel, cruel Wulf!....'

  Wulf was forced to be stern, or he would have melted at once.

  'And what was your love worth to him? What has it done for him? It hasmade him a sot, an idler, a laughing-stock to these Greek dogs, when hemight have been their conqueror, their king. Foolish woman, who cannotsee that your love has been his bane, his ruin! He, who ought by nowto have been sitting upon the throne of the Ptolemies, the lord of allsouth of the Mediterranean--as he shall be still!'

  Pelagia looked tip at him wide-eyed, as if her mind was taking in slowlysome vast new thought, under the weight of which it reeled already. Thenshe rose slowly.

  'And he might be Emperor of Africa.'

  'And he shall be; but not--'

  'Not with me!' she almost shrieked. 'No! not with wretched, ignorant,polluted me! I see--oh God, I see it all! And this is why you want himto marry her--her--'

  She could not utter the dreaded name.

  Wulf could not trust himself to speak; but he bowed his head inacquiescence. ...............

  'Yes--I will go--up into the desert--with Philammon--and you shall neverhear of me again. And I will be a nun, and pray for him, that he may bea great king, and conquer all the world. You will tell him why I wentaway, will you not? Yes, I will go,--now, at once--'

  She turned away hurriedly, as if to act upon her promise, and then shesprang again to Wulf with a sudden shudder.

  'I cannot, Wulf!--I cannot leave him! I shall go mad if I do! Do notbe angry;--I will promise anything--take any oath you like, if you willonly let me stay here. Only as a slave--as anything--if I may but lookat him sometimes. No--not even that--but to be tinder the same roof withhim, only--Oh, let me be but a slave in the kitchen! I will make overall I have to him--to you--to any one! And you shall tell him that I amgone--dead, if you will.--Only let me stay! And I will wear rags, andgrind in the mill.... Even that will be delicious, to know that heis eating the bread which I have made! And if I ever dare speak tohim--even to come near hint--let the steward hang me up by the wrists,and whip me, like the slave which I deserve to be!... And then shallI soon grow old and ugly with grief, and--there will be no more dangerthen, dear Wulf, will there, from this
accursed face of mine? Onlypromise me that, and--There he is calling you! Don't let him come inand see me!--I cannot bear it! Go to him, quick, and tell him all.--No,don't tell him yet....'

  And she sank down again on the floor, as Wulf went out murmuring tohimself--

  'Poor child! poor child! well for thee this clay if thou wert dead, andat the bottom of Hela!'

  And Pelagia heard what he said.

  Gradually, amid sobs and tears, and stormy confusion of impossible hopesand projects, those words took root in her mind, and spread, till theyfilled her whole heart and brain.

  'Well for me if I were dead?'

  And she rose slowly.

  'Well for me if I were dead? And why not? Then it would indeed beall settled. There would be no more danger from poor little Pelagiathen....'

  She went slowly, firmly, proudly, into the well-known chamber.... Shethrew herself upon the bed, and covered the pillow with kisses. Her eyefell on the Amal's sword, which hung across the bed's-head, after thecustom of Gothic warriors. She seized it, and took it down, shuddering.

  'Yes!.... Let it be with this, if it must be. And it must be. I cannotbear it! Anything but shame! To have fancied all my life--vain fool thatI was!--that every one loved and admired me, and to find that they weredespising me, hating me, all along! Those students at the lecture-roomdoor told me I was despised. The old monk told me so--Fool that I was!I forgot it next day!--For he--he loved me still!--All--how could Ibelieve them, till his own lips had said it?.... Intolerable!.... Andyet women as bad as I am have been honoured--when they were dead. Whatwas that song which I used to sing about Epicharis, who hung herself inthe litter, and Leaina, who bit out her tongue, lest the torture shoulddrive them to betray their lovers? There used to be a statue of Leaina,they say, at Athens,--a lioness without a tongue.... And whenever I sangthe song, the theatre used to rise, and shout, and call them noble andblessed.... I never could tell why then; but I know now!--I know now!Perhaps they may call me noble, after all. At least, they may say "Shewas a--a--but she dare die for the man she loved!".... Ay, but Goddespises me too, and elates me. He will send me to eternal fire.Philammon said so--though he was my brother. The old monk saidso--though he wept as he said it.... The flames of hell for ever! Oh,not for ever! Great, dreadful God! Not for ever! Indeed, I did not know!No one taught me about right and wrong, and I never knew that I had beenbaptized--Indeed, I never knew! And it was so pleasant--so pleasant tobe happy, and praised, and loved, and to see happy faces round me. Howcould I help it? The birds there who are singing in the darling, belovedcourt--they do what they like, and Thou art not angry with them forbeing happy! And Thou wilt not be more cruel to me than to them, greatGod--for what did I know more than they? Thou hast made the beautifulsunshine, and the pleasant, pleasant world, and the flowers, and thebirds--Thou wilt not send me to burn for ever and ever? Will not ahundred years be punishment enough-or a thousand? Oh God! is not thispunishment enough already,--to have to leave him, just as just as Iam beginning to long to be good, and to be worthy of him?.... Oh, havemercy--mercy--mercy--and let me go after I have been punished enough!Why may I not turn into a bird, or even a worm, and come back again outof that horrible place, to see the sun shine, and the flowers growonce more? Oh, am I not punishing myself already? Will not this help toatone?.... Yes--I will die!--and perhaps so God may pity me!'

  And with trembling hands she drew the sword from its sheath and coveredthe blade with kisses.

  'Yes--on this sword--with which he won his battles. That is right--histo the last! How keen and cold it looks! Will it be very painful?....No--I will not try the point, or my heart might fail me. I will fall onit at once: let it hurt me as it may, it will be too late to draw backthen. And after all it is his sword--It will not have the heart totorture me much. And yet he struck me himself this morning!'

  And at that thought, a long wild cry of misery broke from her lips, andrang through the house. Hurriedly she fastened the sword upright to thefoot of the bed, and tore open her tunic.... 'Here--under this widowedbosom, where his head will never lie again! There are footsteps in thepassage! Quick, Pelagia! Now--'

  And she threw up her arms wildly, in act to fall....

  'It is his step! And he will find me, and never know that it is for himI die!'

  The Amal tried the door. It was fast. With a single blow he burst itopen, and demanded--

  'What was that shriek? What is the meaning of this? Pelagia!'

  Pelagia, like a child caught playing with a forbidden toy, hid her facein her hands and cowered down.

  'What is it?' cried he, lifting her.

  But she burst from his arms.

  'No, no!--never more! I am not worthy of you! Let me die, wretch thatI am! I can only drag you down. You must be a king. You must marryher--the wise woman!'

  'Hypatia! She is dead!'

  'Dead?' shrieked Pelagia.

  'Murdered, an hour ago, by those Christian devils.'

  Pelagia put her hands over her eyes, and burst into tears. Were they ofpity or of joy?... She did not ask herself; and we will not ask her.

  'Where is my sword? Soul of Odin! Why is it fastened here?'

  'I was going to--Do not be angry!.... They told me that I had betterdie, and--

  The Amal stood thunderstruck for a moment.

  'Oh, do not strike me again! Send me to the mill. Kill me now with yourown hand! Anything but another blow!'

  'A blow?--Noble woman!'cried the Amal, clasping her in his arms.

  The storm was past; and Pelagia had been nestling to that beloved heart,cooing like a happy dove, for many a minute before the Amal arousedhimself and her....

  'Now!--quick! We have not a moment to lose. Up to the tower, where youwill be safe; and then to show these curs what comes of snarling roundthe wild wolves' den!'