"Yes, I am," said the young man.
"Then may I know what it is you search out so diligently, first in the book, and then in your bowl of water?"
"Most certainly you may," replied his host. "I seek to find out what G.o.d may be."
Prosper grew grave. "I had thought you a student of fishes," said he, "but I find you dive deeper. Yet indeed, sir, for my part I think we had best be content to love and serve G.o.d as best we may, discerning Him chiefly in the voice of honour and in His fair works. Moreover, Holy Church biddeth us nourish a lively faith. Therefore, as I think, the harder our understanding of G.o.d is to come at, the more abundant our merit who nevertheless believe."
"That may be so," said the other. "But I can hardly be expected to love that which I know not, or to believe that which I cannot express.
And as for Holy Church, what Holy Church may consider I know not; but when you speak of discerning G.o.d in honour and fair works, I understand you, and take up your argument in this manner. For what you think most eloquent of G.o.d may be a beautiful lady."
"G.o.d is truly there for me," said Prosper, and thought of Isoult"s good eyes.
"And for me, fair sir," cried his host kindling, "if all women were as lovely and wise as my friend of late. There indeed was a woman redolent of G.o.d."
"Ah, you are out there, sir," said Prosper; "you are terribly out."
The young man smiled. "Look now, my friend, where we are with our definitions," said he. "We divide at the onset. Now, say that instead of a woman, I found a turnip-field the most adorable thing in the world. Can we both be right? No, indeed. Now my reading tells me of all the G.o.ds whom men have worshipped--of Klepht and Put and Ra; of Melkarth also, and Bel; of Moloch, Thammuz, and Astarte (a Phoenician deity). I learn next of the G.o.ds of Olympus, of those of Rome and Etruria; of the Scandinavians, and of many modern G.o.ds. Now either these peoples have made their own G.o.ds, in which case I too can make one; or G.o.d hath revealed Himself to some one alone--and then He would seem to have dealt ungenerously with the others, equally His creatures, and left blind; or He hath never revealed Himself, which is against Nature; or He is not. These are the questions I would solve, if Galors give me time."
"Sir, sir," cried Prosper, "you do but fog yourself to little purpose!
But you should live honestly and sanely, going much abroad, and you would have no doubts."
"My author," said Spiridion calmly, indicating his Hebrew text, "tells me that there are one-and-thirty different ways of finding G.o.d out. Of which crystal-gazing, says he in a famous pa.s.sage, is the readiest.
But as yet I have not found it so. Maybe I shall try yours another day--if I have another day."
Whereupon, as if reminded of his delaying, he would have turned again to his work; but Prosper clapped a hand to his shoulder.
"Have done with groping in books, Spiridion," cried he, "and tell me if you think this a time for such folly, when your life is threatened by Galors and his riders?"
"It is the time of all times," returned Spiridion; "for if I know not who is really G.o.d of all the host with claims to His rank, how shall I pray when my visitation comes, or how pray that it come not? It was for lack of this knowledge that my people were murdered the other day.
So you see that the affair is urgent."
"I think the defence of the house and a long sword would fit your case better," said Prosper dryly. "Meanwhile, you must forgive me if I remind you that I have ridden all day without food or rest, and beg of you to afford me one or the other."
"Ten thousand pardons!" said Spiridion, getting up at once, "that my little griefs should make me forget your serious claims upon my hospitality. Come, sir, here are bread and olives, here is a flask of a very pa.s.sable wine--all at your service. Afterwards we will share a bed."
They sat on books, and ate what there was. Outside the wind had freshened; it buffeted fitfully but fiercely at the window, and came with dashes of rain. Down the corridor they could hear the cas.e.m.e.nts swinging and banging, and over all the wind itself roaring through the great bare pa.s.sages as if they had been tunnels.
"A wild night, Spiridion," said Prosper. "And what a night," thought he, "for a surprise."
"Wild enough," replied Spiridion, "but I am indifferent to weather, being seldom abroad. How do you find this wine?"
"Excellent," said Prosper, and drained his gla.s.s.
"Of this Galors, whom I think you know," Spiridion continued, "I hear bad reports. Not only has he cut the throats of my household, but from the account given me by my fair friend (concerning whom," he said with a bow, "we are agreed to differ), I fear he is otherwise of a wild and irregular conversation."
"You are right there, my friend," laughed Prosper.
"If he murders me," the other went on, sipping his wine, "it will be on some such night as this."
"I have just said as much to myself," Prosper replied; "but I will do my best to prevent him, I a.s.sure you."
"You are so courteous a defender, fair sir," said Spiridion, "I could wish you a more worthy client."
Prosper inwardly agreed with him. Shortly afterwards Spiridion bowed him to bed. For himself he carefully undressed and put on his night- shirt; then, lying down, he was asleep in a moment. The storm was by this time a gale, the noise of it continuous out doors and in. Prosper judged it expedient to have his arms within reach; the more so as he could not help fancying he had heard the sound of rowlocks on the mere. He stripped himself therefore to his doublet and breeches, heaped his armour by the bedside, slung his shield and sword over the foot, and then lay down by his peaceful companion. He had not forgotten either to look to the tr.i.m.m.i.n.g and feeding of the lamp.
Sleep, however, was miles from him in such a pandemonium of noise. The wind wailed and screamed, the windows volleyed, wainscots creaked, doors rattled on their locks. Sometimes with a shock like a thunder- clap the body of the storm hurled against the walls; the great house seemed to shudder and groan; then there would be a lull as if the spirits of riot had spent themselves. In one of these pauses Prosper was pretty sure he heard a step on the stairs. Not at all surprised, for it was just such a night as he would have chosen, he listened painfully; but the noise drowned all. Came another moment of recoil, he heard it again, nearer. He got out of bed, went to the door, opened it silently, and listened. There were certainly movements in the house, feet coming up the stairs; he thought to catch hoa.r.s.e whisperings, and once the clang of metal. There was no time to lose, He shut, bolted, and locked the door; then turned to his armour. A swift step undisguised in the corridor put all beyond question; there was an attack preparing. He had no time to do any more than s.n.a.t.c.h up shield and sword, before he saw the flame of a torch under the door and heard the voices of men.
Prosper stood sword in hand, waiting.
"Spiridion," he said, "wake up!"
Spiridion moaned, stirred a little, and sank again. A high voice called out--
"Spiridion, thou thin traitor, open the door and deliver up him thou harbourest."
The wind shrieked and mocked; then Spiridion woke up with a shiver.
"The hour is come before my G.o.d is ready. Now I must die unknowing,"
said he, and sat up in bed with his yellow hair all about his face.
"It is me they seek," said Prosper. "Now then if it will save thee I will open and go out to them." He went straight to the door, put his face against the key-hole, and cried out--"If I come out, will ye save Spiridion alive?"
There followed a babble of voices speaking all at once; afterwards the same shrill voice took up his challenge, wailing like the wind-- "Spiridion, open the door before we break it in."
Prosper said again--"Will you have me for Spiridion?"
"We will have both, by G.o.d," rang a deep note, the voice of Galors.
As if at a signal swords began to batter at the door, pommels and blades. One pierced the panel and struck through on the inside.
Prosper snapped it off short. "One less," he said; "but they will soon be done with it."
"My friend," said Spiridion, who was shivering with cold (his night- shirt being over short for the season), "my friend, I must die. What can I do for thee? The time is short."
"Brother," answered Prosper, "get a sword and harness, and I will keep the door till thou art ready. Then we will open it suddenly, and do what becomes us."
"Dear friend," Spiridion said mildly, "I have no sword. And since I am to die, I will die as well in my shirt as in a suit of mail."
"Certainly you are a great fool," said Prosper. "Yet I will defend you as well as I can. Get behind me now, for the door is shaking, and cannot hold out much longer."
Their a.s.sailants, without any further speech among themselves, beat at the door furiously, or with short runs hurtled against it with their shoulders. It seemed impossible it should stand, yet stand it did.
Then one, Galors, cried suddenly out, "Fetch a hatchet!" and another ran helter-skelter down the corridor. The rest seemed to be waiting for him; the battering ceased.
"Here," said Spiridion, standing in his night-shirt before the shelf of images, "here are images of Christ on the Cross, of Mahound (made by a Maltese Jew), of Diana of the Ephesians, and Jupiter Ammon. Here too, are a Thammuz wrought in jade, and a cat-faced woman sitting naked in a chair. All are G.o.ds, and any one of them may be very G.o.d.
Before which should I kneel? For to one I will as surely kneel as I shall surely die."
Prosper flushed red with annoyance. "Brother," said he, "thou art a greater fool than I thought possible. Die how you will. G.o.d knows how little of a G.o.d am I; but I will do what I can. Hey, now! look about!"
he called out the next minute, and leapt back into the room. The door split in the midst and fell apart. Two men fully armed, with their vizors down, burst into the light; they were upon him in a flash.
Prosper up with his shield and drove at them. They were no match for him with swords, as they very soon found when he penned them back in the entry. One of the pair, indeed, lost his arm in the first pa.s.ses of the game, but the press of men behind forced them suddenly and violently forward whether they would or no. Prosper skewered one of them like a capon, against his own will, for he knew what must happen of that. Precisely; before he could disengage his weapon two more were at him in front, and one dodging round behind him with the hatchet slogged at his head with the back of it. Prosper tottered; it was all up with him. Another a.s.sailant slipped in under his guard with a pike, which he drove into his ribs. A second stinging blow from the hatchet dropped him. p.r.o.ne on his face he fell, and never knew of the trampling he had from the freed pa.s.s.