CHAPTER VIII.
While waiting in the studio Ledscha had used the time to satisfy hercuriosity.
What was there not to be seen!
On pedestals and upon the boards of the floor, on boxes, racks, andalong the wall, stood, lay, or hung the greatest variety of articles:plaster casts of human limbs and parts of the bodies of animals, maleand female, of clay and wax, withered garlands, all sorts of sculptor'stools, a ladder, vases, cups and jars for wine and water, a frame overwhich linen and soft woollen materials were spread, a lute and a zither,several seats, an armchair, and in one corner a small table with threedilapidated book rolls, writing tablets, metal styluses, and reed pens.
All these articles were arranged haphazard, and showed that Biaspossessed more wisdom than care in the use of duster and broom.
It would have been difficult to count the number of things broughttogether here, but the unusually long, wide room was by no meanscrowded.
Ledscha cast a wondering glance sometimes at one object, sometimes atanother, but without understanding its meaning or its use.
The huge figure on the pedestal in the middle of the studio, upon whichthe full glare of light fell through the open windows, was certainlythe statue of the goddess on which Hermon was working; but a large graycloth concealed it from her gaze.
How tall it was!
When she looked at it more closely she felt small and oppressed bycomparison.
A passionate longing urged her to remove the cloth, but the boldnessof the act restrained her. After she had taken another survey ofthe spacious apartment, which she was visiting for the first time bydaylight, the torturing feeling of being neglected gained possession ofher.
She clinched her white teeth more firmly, and when there was a noise atthe door that died away again without bringing the man she expected, shewent up to the statue which she had already walked past quietly severaltimes and, obeying an impatient impulse, freed it from its covering.
The goddess, now illumined by the sunlight, shone before her in gleamingyellow gold and snowy ivory.
She had never seen such a statue, and drew back dazzled.
What a master was the man who had deceived her trusting heart!
He had created a Demeter; the wheat in her hand showed it.
How beautiful this work was--and how valuable! It produced a powerfulimpression upon her mind, wholly unaccustomed to the estimate of suchthings.
The goddess before her was the very one whose statue stood in the templeof Demeter, and to whom she also sacrificed, with the Greeks in Tennis,when danger threatened the harvest. Involuntarily she removed the lowerveil from her face and raised her hand in prayer.
Meanwhile she gazed into the pallid face, carved from ivory, of theimmortal dispenser of blessings, and suddenly the blood crimsoned hercheeks, the nostrils of her delicate, slightly arched nose rose andfell more swiftly, for the countenance of the goddess--she was notmistaken--was that of the Alexandrian whom she had just watched sointently, and for whose sake Hermon had left her in the lurch theevening before.
Now, too, she remembered for what purpose the sculptor was said to havelured Gula, the sailor's wife, and her own young sister Taus, to hisstudio, and in increasing excitement she drew the cloth also from thebust beside the Demeter.
Again the Alexandrian's face--the likeness was even more unmistakablethan in the goddess.
The Greek girl alone occupied his thoughts. Hermon had disdained tomodel the Biamite's head.
What could the others, or she herself, be to him, since he loved therich foreigner in the tent outside, and her alone? How firmly her imagemust have been impressed upon his soul, that he could reproduce thefeatures of the absent one with such lifelike fidelity!
Yet with what bold assurance he had protested that his heart belongedsolely to her. But she thought that she now perceived his purpose. Ifthe slave was right, it was done that she might permit him to modelwhat he admired in her figure, only not the head and face, whose beauty,nevertheless, he praised so extravagantly.
Had he attracted Gula and her sister with similar sweet flatteries?Had the promise to bestow their charms upon a goddess been made to themalso?
The swift throbbing of her indignant heart made it impossible for her tothink calmly, but its vehement pulsation reminded her of the object ofher presence here.
She had come to obtain a clear understanding between him and herself.
She stood here as a judge.
She must know whether she had been betrayed or deceived.
He should confess what his intentions toward her were. The next momentsmust decide the fate of her life, and she added, drawing a long breath,perhaps of his also.
Suddenly Ledscha started. She had not heard Hermon enter the studio, andwas now startled by his greeting.
It was not positively unkind, but certainly not a lover's.
Perhaps the words might have been warmer, but for his annoyance at theinsolent boldness with which she had removed the coverings from hisworks. He restrained himself from openly blaming her, it is true, but heexclaimed, with a tinge of gay sarcasm: "You seem to feel very much athome here already, fairest of the fair. Or was it the goddess herselfwho removed the curtain from her image in order to show herself to hersuccessor upon this pedestal?"
But the question was to remain unanswered, for under the spell of theresentment which filled her heart, and in the effort not to lose sightof the object that brought her here, Ledscha had only half understoodits meaning, and pointing her slender forefinger at the face of hiscompleted work, she demanded to know whom she recognised in this statue.
"The goddess Demeter," he answered quietly; "but if it pleases youbetter, as you seem to be on the right track, also the daughter ofArchias."
Then, angered by the wrathful glance she cast at him, he added moresternly: "She is kind-hearted, free from disagreeable whims and thedisposition to torture others who are kindly disposed toward her. So Iadorned the goddess with her pleasant features."
"Mine, you mean to say," Ledscha answered bitterly, "would be lesssuitable for this purpose. Yet they, too, can wear a differentexpression from the present one. You, I think, have learned this. Only Ishall never acquire the art of dissimulation, not even in your society."
"You seem to be angry on account of my absence yesterday evening?"Hermon asked in an altered tone, clasping her hand; but Ledscha snatchedit from him, exclaiming: "The model of the Demeter, the daughter of thewealthy Archias, detained you, you were going to tell me, and you thinkthat ought to satisfy the barbarian maiden."
"Folly!" he answered angrily. "I owe a debt of gratitude to her father,who was my guardian, and custom commands you also to honour a guest. Butyour obstinacy and jealousy are unbearable. What great thing is it thatI ask of your love? A little patience. Practise it. Then your turn willcome too."
"Of course, the second and third will follow the first," she answeredbitterly. "After Gula, the sailor's wife, you lured my innocent youngsister, Taus, to this apartment; or am I mistaken in the order, and wasGula the second?"
"So that's it!" cried Hermon, who was surprised rather than alarmed bythis betrayal of his secret. "If you want confirmation of the fact, verywell--both were here."
"Because you deluded them with false vows of love."
"By no means. My heart has nothing what ever to do with these visits.Gula came to thank me because I rendered her a service--you knowit--which to every mother seems greater than it is."
"But you certainly did not underestimate it," Ledscha impetuouslyinterrupted, "for you demanded her honour in return."
"Guard your tongue!" the artist burst forth angrily. "The woman visitedme unasked, and I let her leave me as faithful or as unfaithful to herhusband as she came. If I used her as a model--"
"Gula, whom the sculptor transforms into a goddess," Ledschainterrupted, with a sneering laugh.
"Into a fish-seller, if you wish to know it," cried Hermon indignantly."I saw in the market a young woman selling sha
d. I took the subject, andfound in Gula a suitable model. Unfortunately, she ventured here far tooseldom. But I can finish it with the help of the sketch--it stands inyonder cupboard."
"A fish-seller," Ledscha repeated contemptuously. "And for what did myTaus, poor lovely child, seem desirable?"
"Over opposite," Hermon answered quickly, as if he wished to get rid ofa troublesome duty, pointing through the window out of doors, "the freemaidens, during the hot days, took off their sandals and waded throughthe water. There I saw your sister's feet. They were the prettiestof all, and Gula brought the young girl to me. I had commenced inAlexandria a figure of a girl holding her foot in her hand to take out athorn, so I used your sister's for it."
"And when my turn comes?" Ledscha demanded.
"Then," he replied, freshly captivated by the magic of her beauty, in akinder, almost tender tone, "then I will make of you, in gold and ivory,you wonderfully lovely creature, the counterpart of this goddess."
"And you will need a long time for it?"
"The oftener you come the faster the work will advance."
"And the more surely the Biamite women will point their fingers at me."
"Yet you ventured here to-day, unasked, in the broad light of noon."
"Because I wish to remind you myself that I shall expect you thisevening. Yesterday you did not appear; but to-day-I am right, am Inot?--to-day you will come."
"With the greatest delight, if it is possible," he answered eagerly.
A warmer glance from her dark eyes rested upon him. The blood seethed inhis veins, and as he extended both hands to her and ardently uttered hername, she rushed forward, clinging to him with passionate devotion, asif seeking assistance, but when his lips touched hers she shrank backand loosed her soft arms from his neck.
"What does this mean?" asked the sculptor in surprise, trying to drawher toward him again; but Ledscha would not permit it, pleading in asofter tone than before: "Not now; but--am I not right, dearest--I mayexpect you this evening? Just this once let the daughter of Archiasyield to me, who loves you better. We shall have a full moon to-night,and you have heard what was predicted to me--to-night the highest blisswhich the gods can bestow upon a mortal awaits me."
"And me also," cried Hermon, "if you will permit me to share it withyou."
"Then I will expect you on the Pelican Island--just when the full moonis over the lofty poplars there. You will come? Not to the Owl's Nest:to the Pelican Island. And though your love is far less, far cooler thanmine, yet you will not defraud me of the best happiness of my life?"
"How could I?" he asked, as if he felt wounded by such distrust. "Whatdetains me must be something absolutely unavoidable."
Ledscha's eyebrows contracted sharply, and in a choked voice sheexclaimed: "Nothing must detain you--nothing, whatever it may be! Thoughdeath should threaten, you will be with me just at midnight."
"I will, if it is possible," he protested, painfully touched by thevehemence of her urging. "What can be more welcome to me also than tospend happy hours with you in the silence of a moonlight night? Besides,my stay in Tennis will not be long."
"You are going?" she asked in a hollow tone.
"In three or four days," he answered carelessly; "then Myrtilus and Iwill be expected in Alexandria. But gently--gently--how pale you are,girl! Yes, the parting! But in six weeks at latest I shall be hereagain; then real life will first begin, and Eros will make the rosesbloom for us."
Ledscha nodded silently, and gazing into his face with a searching lookasked, "And how long will this season of blossoming last?"
"Several months, girl; three, if not six."
"And then?"
"Who looks so far into the future?"
She lowered her glance, and, as if yielding to the inevitable, answered:"What a fool I was! Who knows what the morrow may bring? Are we evensure whether, six months hence, we shall not hate, instead of loving,each other?"
She passed her hand across her brow as she spoke, exclaiming: "You saidjust now that only the present belonged to man. Then let us enjoy itas though every moment might be the last. By the light of the full moonto-night, the happiness which has been predicted to me must begin. Afterit, the orb between the horns of Astarte will become smaller; but whenit fulls and wanes again, if you keep your promise and return, then,though they may curse and condemn me, I will come to your studio andgrant what you ask. But which of the goddesses do you intend to modelfrom me as a companion statue to the Demeter?"
"This time it can not be one of the immortelles," he answeredhesitatingly, "but a famous woman, an artist who succeeded in acompetition in vanquishing even the august Athene."
"So it is no goddess?" Ledscha asked in a disappointed tone.
"No, child, but the most skilful woman who ever plied the weaver'sshuttle."
"And her name?"
"Arachne."
The young girl started, exclaiming contemptuously: "Arachne? Thatis--that is what you Greeks call the most repulsive of creatures--thespider."
"The most skilful of all creatures, that taught man the noble art ofweaving," he eagerly retorted.
Here he was interrupted; his friend Myrtilus put his fair head into theroom, exclaiming: "Pardon me if I interrupt you--but we shall not seeeach other again for some time. I have important business in the city,and may be detained a long while. Yet before I go I must perform thecommission Daphne gave me for you. She sends word that she shall expectyou without fail at the banquet for the Pelusinian guests. Your absence,do you hear?--pardon the interruption, fairest Ledscha--your absencewould seriously anger her."
"Then I shall be prepared for considerable trouble in appeasing her,"replied Hermon, glancing significantly at the young girl.
Myrtilus crossed the threshold, turned to the Biamite, and said in hisquiet, cheerful manner: "Where beautiful gifts are to be brought toEros, it beseems the friend to strew with flowers the path of the onewho is offering the sacrifices; and you, if everything does not deceiveme, would fain choose to-night to serve him with the utmost devotion.Therefore, I shall need forgiveness from you and the god, if I beseechyou to defer the offering, were it only until to-morrow."
Ledscha silently shrugged her shoulders and made no answer to theinquiring glance with which Hermon sought hers, but Myrtilus changed histone and addressed a grave warning to his friend to consider well thatit would be an insult to the manes of his dead parents if he shouldavoid the old couple from Pelusium, who had been their best friends andhad taken the journey hither for his sake.
Hermon looked after him in painful perplexity, but the Biamite alsoapproached the threshold, and holding her head haughtily erect, saidcoldly: "The choice is difficult for you, as I see. Then recall to yourmemory again what this night of the full moon means--you are wellaware of it--to me. If, nevertheless, you still decide in favour of thebanquet with your friends, I can not help it; but I must now know: Shallthis night belong to me, or to the daughter of Archias?"
"Is it impossible to talk with you, unlucky girl, as one would withother sensible people?" Hermon burst forth wrathfully. "Everything iscarried to extremes; you condemn a brief necessary delay as breach offaith and base treachery. This behaviour is unbearable."
"Then you will not come?" she asked apathetically, laying her handupon the door; but Hermon cried out in a tone half beseeching, halfimperious: "You must not go so! If you insist upon it, surely I willcome. There is no room in your obstinate soul for kind indulgence. Noone, by the dog, ever accused me of being specially skilled in thissmooth art; yet there may be duties and circumstances--"
Here Ledscha gently opened the door; but, seized with a fear of losingthis rare creature, whose singular beauty attracted him powerfully,even now, this peerless model for a work on which he placed the highesthopes, he strode swiftly to her side, and drawing her back from thethreshold, exclaimed: "Difficult as it is for me on this special day, Iwill come, only you must not demand what is impossible. The right courseoften lies midway. Half the night must belo
ng to the banquet with my oldfriends and Daphne; the second half--"
"To the barbarian, you think--the spider," she gasped hoarsely. "But mywelfare as well as yours depends on the decision. Stay here, or come tothe island--you have your choice."
Wrenching herself from his hold as she spoke, she slipped through thedoorway and left the room.
Hermon, with a muttered oath, stood still, shrugging his shouldersangrily.
He could do nothing but yield to this obstinate creature's will.
In the atrium Ledscha met the slave Bias, and returned his greeting onlyby a wave of the hand; but before opening the side door which wasto lead her into the open air, she paused, and asked bluntly in thelanguage of their people: "Was Arachne--I don't mean the spider, but theweaver whom the Greeks call by that name--a woman like the rest of us?Yet it is said that she remained victor in a contest with the goddessAthene."
"That is perfectly true," answered Bias, "but she had to atone cruellyfor this triumph; the goddess struck her on the forehead with theweaver's shuttle, and when, in her shame and rage, she tried to hangherself, she was transformed into the spider."
Ledscha stood still, and, while drawing the veil over her pallid face,asked with quivering lips, "And is there no other Arachne?"
"Not among mortals," was the reply, "but even here in this house thereare more than enough of the disagreeable, creeping creatures which bearthe same name."
Ledscha now went clown the steps which led to the lawn, and Bias sawthat she stumbled on the last one and would have fallen had not herlithe body regained its balance in time.
"A bad omen!" thought the slave. "If I had the power to build a wallbetween my master and the spider yonder, it should be higher than thelighthouse of Sostratus. To heed omens guides one safely through life. Iknow what I know, and will keep my eyes open, for my master too."