a.r.s.enius paused.
"There are those who hold that an oath by an idol, being nothing, is of itself void. I do not agree with them. If thou thinkest it sin to break thine oath, to thee it is sin. And for thee, my poor child, thy promise is sacred, were it made to Iscariot himself. But hear me. Can either of you, by asking this woman, be so far absolved as to give me speech of her? Tell her--that is, if she be in Alexandria, which G.o.d grant--all that has pa.s.sed between us here, and tell her, on the solemn oath of a Christian, that a.r.s.enius, whose name she knows well, will neither injure nor betray her. Will you do this?"
"a.r.s.enius?" said the little porter, with a look of mingled awe and pity.
The old man smiled. "a.r.s.enius, who was once called the Father of the Emperors. Even she will trust that name."
"I will go this moment" sir; I will fly!" and off rushed the little porter.
"The little fellow forgets," said a.r.s.enius, with a smile, "to how much he has confessed already, and how easy it were now to trace him to the old hag"s lair .... Philammon, my son .... I have many tears to weep over thee--but they must wait a while, I have thee safe now," and the old man clutched his arm. "Thou wilt not leave thy poor old father? Thou wilt not desert me for the heathen woman?"
"I will stay with you, I promise you, indeed! if--if you will not say unjust things of her."
"I will speak evil of no one, accuse no one, but myself. I will not say one harsh word to thee, my poor boy. But listen now! Thou knowest that thou camest from Athens. Knowest thou that it was I who brought thee hither?"
"You?"
"I, my son: but when I brought thee to the Laura, it seemed right that thou, as the son of a n.o.ble gentleman, shouldest hear nothing of it. But tell me: dost thou recollect father or mother, brother or sister; or anything of thy home in Athens?"
"No."
"Thanks be to G.o.d. But, Philammon, if thou hadst had a sister-hush! And if--I only say if--, "A sister!" interrupted Philammon. "Pelagia?"
"G.o.d forbid, my son! But a sister thou hadst once--some three years older than thee she seemed."
"What! did you know her?"
"I saw her but once--on one sad day.--Poor children both! I will not sadden you by telling you where and how."
"And why did you not bring her hither with me? You surely had not the heart 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. There were others, richer than I, to whose covetousness her youth and beauty seemed a precious prize. When I saw her last, she was in company with an ancient 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 nothing else 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 hands of G.o.d! What if she were dead? To discover that, would be to discover needless sorrow. And what if--G.o.d grant that it be not so! she had only a 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 for me that she is my sister?" a.r.s.enius shook his head. He little knew the strange new light and warmth which his words had poured in upon the young heart beside him. "A sister!" What mysterious virtue was there in that simple word, which made Philammon"s brain reel and his heart throb madly? A sister! not merely a friend, an equal, a help- mate, given by G.o.d Himself, for loving whom none, not even a monk, could blame him.--Not merely something delicate, weak, beautiful-- for of course she must be beautiful-whom he might cherish, guide, support, deliver, die for, and find death delicious. Yes--all that, and more than that, lay in the sacred word. For those divided and partial notions had flitted across his mind too rapidly to stir such pa.s.sion as moved him now; even the hint of her sin and danger had been heard heedlessly, if heard at all. It was the word itself which bore its own message, its own spell to the heart of the fatherless and motherless foundling, as he faced for the first time the deep, everlasting, divine reality of kindred .... A sister! of his own flesh and blood--born of the same father, the same mother-- his, his, for ever! How hollow and fleeting seemed all "spiritual sonships," "spiritual daughterhoods," inventions of the changing fancy, the wayward will of man! a.r.s.enius--Pambo--ay, Hypatia herself--what were they to him now? Here was a real relationship .... A sister! What else was worth caring for upon earth?
"And she was at Athens when Pelagia was"--he cried at last--"perhaps knew her--let us go to Pelagia herself!"
"Heaven forbid!" said a.r.s.enius. "We must wait at least till Miriam"s answer comes."
"I can show you her house at least in the meanwhile; and you can go in yourself when you will. I do not ask to enter. Come! I feel certain that my finding her is in some way bound up with Pelagia. Had I not met her on the Nile, had you not met her in the street, I might never have heard that I had a sister. And if she went with Miriam, Pelagia must know her--she may be in that very house at this moment!"
a.r.s.enius had his reasons for suspecting that Philammon was but too right. 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 behind them, and voices calling them by name, made them turn; and behold, evidently to the disgust of a.r.s.enius as much as Philammon himself, Peter the Reader and a large party of monks!
Philammon"s first impulse was to escape; a.r.s.enius himself caught him by the arm, and seemed inclined to hurry on.
"No!" thought the youth, "am I not a free man, and a philosopher?" and facing 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 a.r.s.enius, in a trembling voice, "what brings you here?"
"Heaven forbid that I should have allowed your sanct.i.ty and age to go forth without some guard against the insults and violence of this wretched youth and his profligate companions. We have been following you afar off all the morning, with hearts full of filial solicitude."
"Many thanks; but indeed your kindness has been superfluous. My son here, from whom I have met with nothing but affection, and whom, indeed, I believe far more innocent than report declared him, is about to return peaceably with me. Are you not, Philammon?"
"Alas! my father" said Philammon, with an effort, "how can I find courage 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, a.s.sure you that he would receive 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 against that tyrant and his crew? Will he proclaim me openly to be an innocent and persecuted man, unjustly beaten and driven forth for obeying his own commands? 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 to be proved, my gay youth; and will need more evidence than that smart philosophic cloak and those well-curled locks which you have adopted since I saw you last."
"Remains to be proved?"
a.r.s.enius made an imploring gesture to Peter to be silent.
"Nay, sir. As I foretold to you, this one way alone remains; the blame of it, if there be blame, must rest on the unhappy youth whose perversity renders it necessary."
"For G.o.d"s sake, spare me!" cried the old man, dragging Peter aside, while Philammon stood astonished, divided between indignation and vague dread.
"Did I not tell you again and again that I never could bring myself to call a Christian man my slave? And him, above all, my spiritual son?"
"And, most reverend sir, whose zeal is only surpa.s.sed by your tenderness and mercy, did not the holy patriarch a.s.sure you that your scruples were groundless? Do you think that either he or I can have less horror than you have of slavery in itself? Heaven forbid! But when an immortal soul is at stake--when a lost lamb is to be brought back to the fold--surely you may employ the authority which the law gives you for the salvation of that precious charge committed to you? What could be more conclusive than his Holiness"s argument this morning? "Christians are bound to obey the laws of this world for conscience" sake, even though, in the abstract, they may disapprove of them, and deny their authority. Then, by parity of reasoning, it must be lawful for them to take the advantage which those same laws offer them, when by so doing the glory of G.o.d may be advanced.""
a.r.s.enius still hung back, with eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears; but Philammon himself put an end to the parley.
"What is the meaning of all this? Are you, too, in a conspiracy against me? Speak, a.r.s.enius!"
"This is the meaning of it, blinded sinner!" cried Peter. "That you are by law the slave of a.r.s.enius, lawfully bought with his money in the city of Ravenna; and that he has the power, and, as I trust, for the sake of your salvation, the will also, to compel you to accompany him."
Philammon recoiled across the pavement, with eyes flashing defiance. A slave! The light of heaven grew black to him .... Oh, that Hypatia might never know his shame! Yet it was impossible. Too dreadful to be true....
"You lie!" almost shrieked he. "I am the son of a n.o.ble citizen of Athens. a.r.s.enius told me so, but this moment, with his own lips!"
"Ah, but he bought you--bought you in the public market; and he can prove it!"
"Hear me--hear me, my son!" cried the old man, springing toward him. Philammon, in his fury, mistook the gesture and thrust him fiercely back.
"Your son!--your slave! Do not insult the name of son by applying it to me. Yes, sir; your slave in body, but not in soul! Ay, seize me--drag home the fugitive--scourge him--brand him--chain him in the mill, if you can; but even for that the free heart has a remedy. If you will not let me live as a philosopher, you shall see me die like one!"
"Seize the fellow, my brethren!" cried Peter, while a.r.s.enius, utterly unable to restrain either party, hid his face and wept.
"Wretches!" cried the boy; "you shall never take me alive, while I have teeth or nails left. Treat me as a brute beast, and I will defend myself as such!"
"Out of the way there, rascals! Place for the Prefect! What are you squabbling about here, you unmannerly monks?" shouted peremptory voices from 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 burst through the mob, and was clinging to the Prefect"s chariot.
"I am a free-born Athenian, whom these monks wish to kidnap back into slavery! 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 you to lock up every mad girl whom you can dupe, but you must--"
"His master is here present, your Excellency, who will swear to the purchase."
"Or to anything else for the glory of G.o.d. Out of the way! And take care, you tall scoundrel, that I do not get a handle against you. You have been one of my marked men for many a month. Off!"
"His master demands the rights of the law as a Roman citizen," said Peter, pushing forward a.r.s.enius.
"If he be a Roman citizen, let him come and make his claim at the tribune to-morrow, in legal form. But I would have you remember, ancient sir, that I shall require you to prove your citizenship before we proceed to the question of purchase."
"The law does not demand that," quoth Peter.
"Knock that fellow down, apparitor!" Whereat Peter vanished, and an ominous growl rose from the mob of monks.
"What am I to do, most n.o.ble sir?" said Philammon.
"Whatever you like, till the third hour to-morrow--if you are fool enough to appear at the tribune. If you will take my advice" you will knock down these fellows right and left, and run for your life." And Orestes drove on.
Philammon saw that it was his only chance, and did so; and in another minute he found himself rushing headlong into the archway of Pelagia"s house, with a dozen monks at his heels. As luck would have it, the outer gates, at which the Goths had just entered, were still open; but the inner 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 rushed through it, into a long range of stables, and into the arms of Wulf and Smid, who were unsaddling and feeding, like true warriors, their own horses.
"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 peeping into the doorway.
Wulf seemed to understand it all in a moment; for, s.n.a.t.c.hing up a heavy whip, he rushed at the foe, and with a few tremendous strokes cleared the 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 be as 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 monks out of the gateway."
But the mob, after battering the door for a few minutes, had yielded to the agonised entreaties of Peter, who a.s.sured them that if those incarnate fiends once broke out upon them, they would not leave a Christian alive in Alexandria. So it was agreed to leave a few to watch for Philammon"s coming out; and the rest, balked of their prey, turned the tide of their wrath against the Prefect, and rejoined the ma.s.s of their party, who were still hanging round his chariot, ready for mischief.
In vain the hapless shepherd of the people attempted to drive on. The apparitors were frightened and hung back; and without their help it was impossible to force the horses through the ma.s.s of tossing arms and beards in front. The matter was evidently growing serious.
"The bitterest ruffians in all Nitria, your Excellency," whispered one of 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 canons of the Church if I turn back. Leave the horses" heads alone. Why, in G.o.d"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 courage from its own noise, burst out into open threats. "Revenge for the blessed martyr Hieracas!" "Revenge for the wrongs of the Church!" "Down with the friend of Heathens, Jews, and Barbarians!" "Down with the favourite of Hypatia!" "Tyrant!" "Butcher!" And the last epithet so smote the delicate fancy of the crowd, that a general cry arose of "Kill the butcher!" and one furious monk attempted to clamber into the chariot. An apparitor tore him down, and was dragged to the ground in his turn. The monks closed in. The guards, finding the enemy number ten to their one, threw down their weapons in a panic, and vanished; and in another minute the hopes of Hypatia and the G.o.ds would have been lost for ever, and Alexandria robbed of the blessing of being ruled by the most finished gentleman south of the Mediterranean, had it not been for unexpected succour; of which it will be time enough, considering who and what is in danger, to speak in a future chapter.
CHAPTER XVII.
: A STRAY GLEAM.
THE last blue headland of Sardinia was fading fast on the north-west horizon, and a steady breeze bore before it innumerable ships, the wrecks of Heraclian"s armament, plunging and tossing impatiently in their desperate homeward race toward the coast of Africa. Far and wide, under a sky of cloudless blue, the white sails glittered on the glittering sea, as gaily now, above their loads of shame and disappointment terror and pain, as when, but one short month before, they bore with them only wild hopes and gallant daring. Who can calculate the sum of misery in that hapless flight? .... And yet it was but one, and that one of the least known and most trivial, of the tragedies of that age of woe; one petty death-spasm among the unnumbered throes which were shaking to dissolution the Babylon of the West. Her time had come. Even as Saint John beheld her in his vision, by agony after agony, she was rotting to her well-earned doom. Tyrannising it luxuriously over all nations, she had sat upon the mystic beast--building her power on the brute animal appet.i.tes of her dupes and slaves: but she had duped herself even more than them. She was finding out by bitter lessons that it was "to the beast", and not to her, that her va.s.sal kings of the earth had been giving their power and strength; and the ferocity and l.u.s.t which she had pampered so cunningly in them, had become her curse and her destruction .... Drunk with the blood of the saints; blinded by her own conceit and jealousy to the fact that she had been crushing and extirpating out of her empire for centuries past all which was n.o.ble, purifying, regenerative, divine, she sat impotent and doting, the prey of every fresh adventurer, the slave of her own slaves .... "And the kings of the earth, who had sinned with her, hated the harlot, and made her desolate and naked, and devoured her flesh, and burned her with fire. For G.o.d had put into their hearts to fulfil His will, and to agree, and to give their kingdom to the beast, until the words of G.o.d should be fulfilled." .... Everywhere sensuality, division, hatred, treachery, cruelty, uncertainty, terror; the vials of G.o.d"s wrath poured out. Where was to be the end of it all? asked every man of his neighbour, generation after generation; and received for answer only, "It is better to die than to live."
And yet in one ship out of that sad fleet, there was peace; peace amid shame and terror; amid the groans of the wounded, and the sighs of the starving; amid all but blank despair. The great triremes and quinqueremes rushed onward past the lagging transports, careless, in the mad race for safety, that they were leaving the greater number of their comrades defenceless in the rear of the flight; but from one little fishing-craft alone no base entreaties, no bitter execrations greeted the pa.s.sing flash and roll of their mighty oars. One after another, day by day, they came rushing up out of the northern offing, each like a huge hundred-footed dragon, panting and quivering, as if with terror, at every loud pulse of its oars, hurling the wild water right and left with the mighty share of its beak, while from the bows some gorgon or chimaera, elephant or boar, stared out with brazen eyes toward the coast of Africa, as if it, too, like the human beings which it carried, was dead to every care but that of dastard flight. Past they rushed, one after another; and off the p.o.o.p some shouting voice chilled all hearts for a moment, with the fearful news that the Emperor"s Neapolitan fleet was in full chase .... And the soldiers on board that little vessel looked silently and steadfastly into the silent steadfast face of the old Prefect, and Victoria saw him shudder, and turn his eyes away--and stood up among the rough fighting men, like a G.o.ddess, and cried aloud that "the Lord would protect His own"; and they believed her, and were still; till many days and many ships were pa.s.sed, and the little fishing-craft, outstripped even by the transports and merchantmen, as it strained and crawled along before its single square-sail, was left alone upon the sea.
And where was Raphael Aben-Ezra?
He was sitting, with Bran"s head between his knees, at the door of a temporary awning in the vessel"s stern, which shielded the wounded men from sun and spray; and as he sat he could hear from within the tent the gentle voices of Victoria and her brother, as they tended the sick like ministering angels, or read to them words of divine hope and comfort-in which his homeless heart felt that he had no share....
"As I live, I would change places now with any one of those poor mangled ruffians to have that voice speaking such words to me....and to believe them." .... And he went on perusing the ma.n.u.script which he held in his hand. ...............
"Well!" he sighed to himself after a while "at least it is the most complimentary, not to say hopeful, view of our destinies with which I have met since I threw away my curse"s belief that the seed of David was fated to conquer the whole earth, and set up a second Roman Empire at Jerusalem, only worse than the present one, in that the devils of superst.i.tion and bigotry would be added to those of tyranny and rapine."
A hand was laid on his shoulder, and a voice asked" "And what may this so hopeful view be?"
"Ah! my dear General!" said Raphael, looking up. "I have a poor bill of fare whereon to exercise my culinary powers this morning. Had it not been for that shark who was so luckily deluded last night, I should have been reduced to the necessity of stewing my friend the fat decurion"s big boots."
"They would have been savoury enough, I will warrant, after they had pa.s.sed under your magical hand."
"It is a comfort, certainly, to find that after all one did learn something useful in Alexandria! So I will even go forward at once, and employ my artistic skill."
"Tell me first what it was about which I heard you just now soliloquising, as so hopeful a view of some matter or other?"
"Honestly--if you will neither betray me to your son and daughter, nor consider me as having in anywise committed myself--it was Paul of Tarsus"s notion of the history and destinies of our stiff-necked nation. See what your daughter has persuaded me into reading!" And he held up a ma.n.u.script of the Epistle to the Hebrews.
"It is execrable Greek. But it is sound philosophy, I cannot deny. He knows Plato better than all the ladies and gentlemen in Alexandria put together, if my opinion on the point be worth having."
"I am a plain soldier, and no judge on that point, sir. He may or may not know Plato; but I am right sure that he knows G.o.d."
"Not too fast," said Raphael with a smile. "You do not know, perhaps, that I have spent the last ten years of my life among men who professed the same knowledge?"
"Augustine, too, spent the best ten years of his life among such; and yet he is now combating the very errors which he once taught."
"Having found, he fancies, something better!"