Die Schwestern. English

  CHAPTER IV.

  Klea went quickly on towards the temple, without listening to Irene'sexcuses. She paid no heed to the worshippers who filled the forecourt,praying either with heads bent low or with uplifted arms or, if theywere of Egyptian extraction, kneeling on the smooth stone pavement, for,even as she entered, she had already begun to turn in supplication tothe divinity.

  She crossed the great hall of the sanctuary, which was open only tothe initiated and to the temple-servants, of whom she was one. Here allaround her stood a crowd of slender columns, their shafts crowned withgracefully curved flower calyxes, like stems supporting lilies, overher head she saw in the ceiling an image of the midnight sky with thebright, unresting and ever-restful stars; the planets and fixed starsin their golden barks looked down on her silently. Yes! here were thetwilight and stillness befitting a personal communion with the divinity.

  The pillars appeared to her fancy like a forest of giant growth, and itseemed to her that the perfume of the incense emanated from the gorgeousfloral capitals that crowned them; it penetrated her senses, whichwere rendered more acute by fasting and agitation, with a sort ofintoxication. Her eyes were raised to heaven, her arms crossed overher bosom as she traversed this vast hall, and with trembling stepsapproached a smaller and lower chamber, where in the furthest anddarkest background a curtain of heavy and costly material veiled thebrazen door of the holy of holies.

  Even she was forbidden to approach this sacred place; but to-day she wasso filled with longing for the inspiring assistance of the god, that shewent on to the holy of holies in spite of the injunction she had neveryet broken, not to approach it. Filled with reverent awe she sank downclose to the door of the sacred chamber, shrinking close into the angleformed between a projecting door-post and the wall of the great hall.

  The craving desire to seek and find a power outside us as guiding thepath of our destiny is common to every nation, to every man; it is assurely innate in every being gifted with reason--many and various asthese are--as the impulse to seek a cause when we perceive an effect, tosee when light visits the earth, or to hear when swelling waves ofsound fall on our ear. Like every other gift, no doubt that of religioussensibility is bestowed in different degrees on different natures.In Klea it had always been strongly developed, and a pious mother hadcultivated it by precept and example, while her father always had taughther one thing only: namely to be true, inexorably true, to others as toherself.

  Afterwards she had been daily employed in the service of the god whomshe was accustomed to regard as the greatest and most powerful of allthe immortals, for often from a distance she had seen the curtain of thesanctuary pushed aside, and the statue of Serapis with the Kalathoson his head, and a figure of Cerberus at his feet, visible in thehalf-light of the holy of holies; and a ray of light, flashing throughthe darkness as by a miracle, would fall upon his brow and kiss his lipswhen his goodness was sung by the priests in hymns of praise. At othertimes the tapers by the side of the god would be lighted or extinguishedspontaneously.

  Then, with the other believers, she would glorify the great lord of theother world, who caused a new sun to succeed each that was extinguished,and made life grow up out of death; who resuscitated the dead, liftingthem up to be equal with him, if on earth they had reverenced truth andwere found faithful by the judges of the nether world.

  Truth--which her father had taught her to regard as the best possessionof life--was rewarded by Serapis above all other virtues; hearts wereweighed before him in a scale against truth, and whenever Klea tried topicture the god in human form he wore the grave and mild features of herfather, and she fancied him speaking in the words and tones of the manto whom she owed her being, who had been too early snatched from her,who had endured so much for righteousness' sake, and from whose lipsshe had never heard a single word that might not have beseemed the godhimself. And, as she crouched closely in the dark angle by the holy ofholies, she felt herself nearer to her father as well as to the god, andaccused herself pitilessly, in that unmaidenly longings had stirred herheart, that she had been insincere to herself and Irene, nay in that ifshe could not succeed in tearing the image of the Roman from her heartshe would be compelled either to deceive her sister or to sadden theinnocent and careless nature of the impressionable child, whom shewas accustomed to succor and cherish as a mother might. On her, evenapparently light matters weighed oppressively, while Irene could throwoff even grave and serious things, blowing them off as it were into theair, like a feather. She was like wet clay on which even the light touchof a butterfly leaves a mark, her sister like a mirror from which thebreath that has dimmed it instantly and entirely vanishes.

  "Great God!" she murmured in her prayer, "I feel as if the Roman hadbranded my very soul. Help thou me to efface the mark; help me tobecome as I was before, so that I may look again in Irene's eyes withoutconcealment, pure and true, and that I may be able to say to myself,as I was wont, that I had thought and acted in such a way as my fatherwould approve if he could know it."

  She was still praying thus when the footsteps and voices of two menapproaching the holy of holies startled her from her devotions; shesuddenly became fully conscious of the fact that she was in a forbiddenspot, and would be severely punished if she were discovered.

  "Lock that door," cried one of the new-comers to his companion, pointingto the door which led from the prosekos into the pillared hall, "none,even of the initiated, need see what you are preparing here for us--"

  Klea recognized the voice of the high-priest, and thought for a momentof stepping forward and confessing her guilt; but, though she did notusually lack courage, she did not do this, but shrank still more closelyinto her hiding-place, which was perfectly dark when the brazen door ofthe room; which had no windows, was closed. She now perceived that thecurtain and door were opened which closed the inmost sanctuary, sheheard one of the men twirling the stick which was to produce fire, sawthe first gleam of light from it streaming out of the holy of holies,and then heard the blows of a hammer and the grating sound of a file.

  The quiet sanctum was turned into a forge, but noisy as were theproceedings within, it seemed to Klea that the beating of her own heartwas even louder than the brazen clatter of the tools wielded by Krates;he was one of the oldest of the priests of Serapis, who was chief incharge of the sacred vessels, who was wont never to speak to any onebut the high-priest, and who was famous even among his Greekfellow-countrymen for the skill with which he could repair brokenmetal-work, make the securest locks, and work in silver and gold.

  When the sisters first came into the temple five years since, Irene hadbeen very much afraid of this man, who was so small as almost to be adwarf, broad shouldered and powerfully knit, while his wrinkled facelooked like a piece of rough cork-bark, and he was subject to a painfulcomplaint in his feet which often prevented his walking; her fears hadnot vexed but only amused the priestly smith, who whenever he met thechild, then eleven years old, would turn his lips up to his big rednose, roll his eyes, and grunt hideously to increase the terror thatcame over her.

  He was not ill-natured, but he had neither wife nor child, nor brother,nor sister, nor friend, and every human being so keenly desires thatothers should have some feeling about him, that many a one would ratherbe feared than remain unheeded.

  After Irene had got over her dread she would often entreat the oldman--who was regarded as stern and inaccessible by all the otherdwellers in the temple--in her own engaging and coaxing way to make aface for her, and he would do it and laugh when the little one, to hisdelight and her own, was terrified at it and ran away; and just latelywhen Irene, having hurt her foot, was obliged to keep her room for afew days, an unheard of thing had occurred: he had asked Klea with thegreatest sympathy how her sister was getting on, and had given her acake for her.

  While Krates was at his work not a word passed between him and thehigh-priest. At length he laid down the hammer, and said:

  "I do not much like work of this kind, but this, I think
, is successfulat any rate. Any temple-servant, hidden here behind the altar, can nowlight or extinguish the lamps without the illusion being detected by thesharpest. Go now and stand at the door of the great hall and speak theword."

  Klea heard the high-priest accede to this request and cry in achanting voice: "Thus he commands the night and it becomes day, and theextinguished taper and lo! it flames with brightness. If indeed thou artnigh, Oh Serapis! manifest thyself to us."

  At these words a bright stream of light flashed from the holy of holies,and again was suddenly extinguished when the high-priest sang: "Thusshowest thou thyself as light to the children of truth, but dost punishwith darkness the children of lies."

  "Again?" asked Krates in a voice which conveyed a desire that the answermight be 'No.'

  "I must trouble you," replied the high-priest. "Good! the performancewent much better this time. I was always well assured of your skill; butconsider the particular importance of this affair. The two kings and thequeen will probably be present at the solemnity, certainly Philometorand Cleopatra will, and their eyes are wide open; then the Roman who hasalready assisted four times at the procession will accompany them, andif I judge him rightly he, like many of the nobles of his nation, isone of those who can trust themselves when it is necessary to be contentwith the old gods of their fathers; and as regards the marvels we areable to display to them, they do not take them to heart like the poorin spirit, but measure and weigh them with a cool and unbiassed mind.People of that stamp, who are not ashamed to worship, who do notphilosophize but only think just so much as is necessary for actingrightly, those are the worst contemners of every supersensualmanifestation."

  "And the students of nature in the Museum?" asked Krates. "They believenothing to be real that they cannot see and observe."

  "And for that very reason," replied the high-priest, "they are oftensingularly easy to deceive by your skill, since, seeing an effectwithout a cause, they are inclined to regard the invisible cause assomething supersensual. Now, open the door again and let us get out bythe side door; do you, this time, undertake the task of cooperating withSerapis yourself. Consider that Philometor will not confirm thedonation of the land unless he quits the temple deeply penetrated by thegreatness of our god. Would it be possible, do you think, to have thenew censer ready in time for the birthday of King Euergetes, which is tobe solemnly kept at Memphis?"

  "We will see," replied Krates, "I must first put together the lockof the great door of the tomb of Apis, for so long as I have it in myworkshop any one can open it who sticks a nail into the hole above thebar, and any one can shut it inside who pushes the iron bolt. Send tocall me before the performance with the lights begins; I will come inspite of my wretched feet. As I have undertaken the thing I will carryit out, but for no other reason, for it is my opinion that even withoutsuch means of deception--"

  "We use no deception," interrupted the high-priest, sternly rebuking hiscolleague. "We only present to short-sighted mortals the creative powerof the divinity in a form perceptible and intelligible to their senses."

  With these words the tall priest turned his back on the smith andquitted the hall by a side door; Krates opened the brazen door, and ashe gathered together his tools he said to himself, but loud enough forKlea to hear him distinctly in her hiding-place:

  "It may be right for me, but deceit is deceit, whether a god deceives aking or a child deceives a beggar."

  "Deceit is deceit," repeated Klea after the smith when he had left thehall and she had emerged from her corner.

  She stood still for a moment and looked round her. For the first timeshe observed the shabby colors on the walls, the damage the pillars hadsustained in the course of years, and the loose slabs in the pavement.

  The sweetness of the incense sickened her, and as she passed by an oldman who threw up his arms in fervent supplication, she looked at himwith a glance of compassion.

  When she had passed out beyond the pylons enclosing the temple sheturned round, shaking her head in a puzzled way as she gazed at it; forshe knew that not a stone had been changed within the last hour, and yetit looked as strange in her eyes as some landscape with which we havebecome familiar in all the beauty of spring, and see once more in winterwith its trees bare of leaves; or like the face of a woman which wethought beautiful under the veil which hid it, and which, when the veilis raised, we see to be wrinkled and devoid of charm.

  When she had heard the smith's words, "Deceit is deceit," she felt herheart shrink as from a stab, and could not check the tears which startedto her eyes, unused as they were to weeping; but as soon as she hadrepeated the stern verdict with her own lips her tears had ceased, andnow she stood looking at the temple like a traveller who takes leave ofa dear friend; she was excited, she breathed more freely, drew herselfup taller, and then turned her back on the sanctuary of Serapis, proudlythough with a sore heart.

  Close to the gate-keeper's lodge a child came tottering towards her withhis arms stretched up to her. She lifted him up, kissed him, and thenasked the mother, who also greeted her, for a piece of bread, for herhunger was becoming intolerable. While she ate the dry morsel the childsat on her lap, following with his large eyes the motion of her hand andlips. The boy was about five years old, with legs so feeble that theycould scarcely support the weight of his body, but he had a particularlysweet little face; certainly it was quite without expression, and it wasonly when he saw Klea coming that tiny Philo's eyes had lighted up withpleasure.

  "Drink this milk," said the child's mother, offering the young girl anearthen bowl. "There is not much and I could not spare it if Philo wouldeat like other children, but it seems as if it hurt him to swallow. Hedrinks two or three drops and eats a mouthful, and then will take nomore even if he is beaten."

  "You have not been beating him again?" said Klea reproachfully, anddrawing the child closer to her. "My husband--" said the woman, pullingat her dress in some confusion. "The child was born on a good day andin a lucky hour, and yet he is so puny and weak and will not learn tospeak, and that provokes Pianchi."

  "He will spoil everything again!" exclaimed Klea annoyed. "Where is he?"

  "He was wanted in the temple."

  "And is he not pleased that Philo calls him 'father,' and you 'mother,'and me by my name, and that he learns to distinguish many things?" askedthe girl.

  "Oh, yes of course," said the woman. "He says you are teaching him tospeak just as if he were a starling, and we are very much obliged toyou."

  "That is not what I want," interrupted Klea. "What I wish is that youshould not punish and scold the boy, and that you should be as glad asI am when you see his poor little dormant soul slowly waking up. Ifhe goes on like this, the poor little fellow will be quite sharp andintelligent. What is my name, my little one?"

  "Ke-ea," stammered the child, smiling at his friend. "And now tastethis that I have in my hand; what is it?--I see you know. It iscalled--whisper in my ear. That's right, mil--mil-milk! to be sure, mytiny, it is milk. Now open your little mouth and say it prettily afterme--once more--and again--say it twelve times quite right and I willgive you a kiss--Now you have earned a pretty kiss--will you have ithere or here? Well, and what is this? your ea-? Yes, your ear. Andthis?--your nose, that is right."

  The child's eyes brightened more and more under this gentle teaching,and neither Klea nor her pupil were weary till, about an hour later, there-echoing sound of a brass gong called her away. As she turned togo the little one ran after her crying; she took him in her arms andcarried him back to his mother, and then went on to her own room todress herself and her sister for the procession. On the way to thePastophorium she recalled once more her expedition to the temple and herprayer there.

  "Even before the sanctuary," said she to herself, "I could not succeedin releasing my soul from its burden--it was not till I set to work toloosen the tongue of the poor little child. Every pure spot, it seems tome, may be the chosen sanctuary of some divinity, and is not an infant'ssoul purer than the altar whe
re truth is mocked at?"

  In their room she found Irene; she had dressed her hair carefully andstuck the pomegranate-flower in it, and she asked Klea if she thoughtshe looked well.

  "You look like Aphrodite herself," replied Klea kissing her forehead.Then she arranged the folds of her sister's dress, fastened on theornaments, and proceeded to dress herself. While she was fasteningher sandals Irene asked her, "Why do you sigh so bitterly?" and Kleareplied, "I feel as if I had lost my parents a second time."