CHAPTER XV
THE SECOND ORDEAL
Oros bowed and left the place, whereon the Hesea signed to us to standupon her right and to Atene to stand upon her left. Presently fromeither side the hooded priests and priestesses stole into the chamber,and to the number of fifty or more ranged themselves along its walls.Then came two figures draped in black and masked, who bore parchmentbooks in their hands, and placed themselves on either side of thecorpse, while Oros stood at its feet, facing the Hesea.
Now she lifted the sistrum that she held, and in obedience to the signalOros said--"Let the books be opened."
Thereon the masked Accuser to the right broke the seal of his book andbegan to read its pages. It was a tale of the sins of this dead manentered as fully as though that officer were his own conscience givenlife and voice. In cold and horrible detail it told of the evil doingsof his childhood, of his youth, and of his riper years, and thus massedtogether the record was black indeed.
I listened amazed, wondering what spy had been set upon the deeds ofyonder man throughout his days; thinking also with a shudder of howheavy would be the tale against any one of us, if such a spy shouldcompanion him from the cradle to the grave; remembering too thatfull surely this count is kept by scribes even more watchful than theministers of Hes.
At length the long story drew to its close. Lastly it told of the murderof that noble upon the banks of the river; it told of the plot againstour lives for no just cause; it told of our cruel hunting with thedeath-hounds, and of its end. Then the Accuser shut his book and cast iton the ground, saying--"Such is the record, O Mother. Sum it up as thouhast been given wisdom."
Without speaking, the Hesea pointed with her sistrum to the Defender,who thereon broke the seal of his book and began to read.
Its tale spoke of all the good that the dead man had done; of everynoble word that he had said, of every kind action; of plans which he hadmade for the welfare of his vassals; of temptations to ill that he hadresisted; of the true love that he had borne to the woman who became hiswife; of the prayers which he had made and of the offerings which he hadsent to the temple of Hes.
Making no mention of her name, it told of how that wife of his had hatedhim, of how she and the magician, who had fostered and educated her, andwas her relative and guide, had set other women to lead him astray thatshe might be free of him. Of how too they had driven him mad with apoisonous drink which took away his judgment, unchained all the evil inhis heart, and caused him by its baneful influence to shrink unnaturallyfrom her whose love he still desired.
Also it set out that the heaviest of his crimes were inspired by thiswife of his, who sought to befoul his name in the ears of the peoplewhom she led him to oppress, and how bitter jealousy drove him to cruelacts, the last and worst of which caused him foully to violate the lawof hospitality, and in attempting to bring about the death of blamelessguests at their hands to find his own.
Thus the Defender read, and having read, closed the book and threw iton the ground, saying--"Such is the record, O Mother, sum it up as thouhast been given wisdom."
Then the Khania, who all this time had stood cold and impassive, steppedforward to speak, and with her her uncle, the Shaman Simbri. But beforea word passed Atene's lips the Hesea raised her sceptre and forbadethem, saying--"Thy day of trial is not yet, nor have we aught to do withthee. When thou liest where he lies and the books of thy deeds are readaloud to her who sits in judgment, then let thine advocate make answerfor these things."
"So be it," answered Atene haughtily and fell back.
Now it was the turn of the high-priest Oros. "Mother," he said, "thouhast heard. Balance the writings, assess the truth, and according to thywisdom, issue thy commands. Shall we hurl him who was Rassen feet firstinto the fiery gulf, that he may walk again in the paths of life, orhead first, in token that he is dead indeed?"
Then while all waited in a hushed expectancy, the great Priestessdelivered her verdict.
"I hear, I balance, I assess, but judge I do not, who claim no suchpower. Let the Spirit who sent him forth, to whom he is returned again,pass judgment on his spirit. This dead one has sinned deeply, yet hashe been more deeply sinned against. Nor against that man can be reckonedthe account of his deeds of madness. Cast him then to his grave feetfirst that his name may be whitened in the ears of those unborn, andthat thence he may return again at the time appointed. It is spoken."
Now the Accuser lifted the book of his accusations from the ground and,advancing, hurled it into the gulf in token that it was blotted out.Then he turned and vanished from the chamber; while the Advocate, takingup his book, gave it into the keeping of the priest Oros, that it mightbe preserved in the archives of the temple for ever. This done, thepriests began a funeral chant and a solemn invocation to the great Lordof the Under-world that he would receive this spirit and acquit it thereas here it had been acquitted by the Hesea, his minister.
Ere their dirge ended certain of the priests, advancing with slow steps,lifted the bier and carried it to the edge of the gulf; then at a signfrom the Mother, hurled it feet foremost into the fiery lake below,whilst all watched to see how it struck the flame. For this they held tobe an omen, since should the body turn over in its descent it was takenas a sign that the judgment of mortal men had been refused in the Placeof the Immortals. It did not turn; it rushed downwards straight as aplummet and plunged into the fire hundreds of feet below, and therefor ever vanished. This indeed was not strange since, as we discoveredafterwards, the feet were weighted.
In fact this solemn rite was but a formula that, down to the exactwords of judgment and committal, had been practised here from unknownantiquity over the bodies of the priests and priestesses of theMountain, and of certain of the great ones of the Plain. So it was inancient Egypt, whence without doubt this ceremony of the trial of thedead was derived, and so it continued to be in the land of Hes, for nopriestess ever ventured to condemn the soul of one departed.
The real interest of the custom, apart from its solemnity and awfulsurroundings, centred in the accurate knowledge displayed by the maskedAccuser and Advocate of the life-deeds of the deceased. It showed thatalthough the College of Hes affected to be indifferent to the doings andpolitics of the people of the Plain that they once ruled and over which,whilst secretly awaiting an opportunity of re-conquest, they stillclaimed a spiritual authority, the attitude was assumed rather thanreal. Moreover it suggested a system of espionage so piercing andextraordinary that it was difficult to believe it unaided by thehabitual exercise of some gift of clairvoyance.
The service, if I may call it so, was finished; the dead man hadfollowed the record of his sins into that lurid sea of fire, and bynow was but a handful of charred dust. But if his book had closed, oursremained open and at its strangest chapter. We knew it, all of us, andwaited, our nerves thrilled, with expectancy.
The Hesea sat brooding on her rocky throne. She also knew that the hourhad come. Presently she sighed, then motioned with her sceptre and spokea word or two, dismissing the priests and priestesses, who departedand were seen no more. Two of them remained however, Oros and the headpriestess who was called Papave, a young woman of a noble countenance.
"Listen, my servants," she said. "Great things are about to happen,which have to do with the coming of yonder strangers, for whom I havewaited these many years as is well known to you. Nor can I tell theissue since to me, to whom power is given so freely, foresight of thefuture is denied. It well may happen, therefore, that this seat willsoon be empty and this frame but food for the eternal fires. Nay, grievenot, grieve not, for I do not die and if so, the spirit shall returnagain.
"Hearken, Papave. Thou art of the blood, and to thee alone have I openedall the doors of wisdom. If I pass now or at any time, take thou theancient power, fill thou my place, and in all things do as I haveinstructed thee, that from this Mountain light may shine upon the world.Further I command thee, and thee also, Oros my priest, that if I besummoned hence you entertain these strangers hos
pitably until it ispossible to escort them from the land, whether by the road they came oracross the northern hills and deserts. Should the Khania Atene attemptto detain them against their will, then raise the Tribes upon her in thename of the Hesea; depose her from her seat, conquer her land and holdit. Hear and obey."
"Mother, we hear and we will obey," answered Oros and Papave as with asingle voice.
She waved her hand to show that this matter was finished; then afterlong thought spoke again, addressing herself to the Khania.
"Atene, last night thou didst ask me a question--why thou dost love thisman," and she pointed to Leo. "To that the answer would be easy, for ishe not one who might well stir passion in the breast of a woman such asthou art? But thou didst say also that thine own heart and the wisdom ofyonder magician, thy uncle, told thee that since thy soul first sprangto life thou hadst loved him, and didst adjure me by the Power to whom Imust give my account to draw the curtain from the past and let the truthbe known.
"Woman, the hour has come, and I obey thy summons--not because thoudost command but because it is my will. Of the beginning I can tell theenothing, who am still human and no goddess. I know not why we threeare wrapped in this coil of fate; I know not the destinies to which wejourney up the ladder of a thousand lives, with grief and pain climbingthe endless stair of circumstance, or, if I know, I may not say.Therefore I take up the tale where my own memory gives me light."
The Hesea paused, and we saw her frame shake as though beneath somefearful inward effort of the will. "Look now behind you," she cried,throwing her arms wide.
We turned, and at first saw nothing save the great curtain of fire thatrose from the abyss of the volcano, whereof, as I have told, the crestwas bent over by the wind like the crest of a breaking billow. Butpresently, as we watched, in the depths of this red veil, Nature's awfullamp-flame, a picture began to form as it forms in the seer's magiccrystal.
Behold! a temple set amid sands and washed by a wide, palm-borderedriver, and across its pyloned court processions of priests, who passto and fro with flaunting banners. The court empties; I could see theshadow of a falcon's wings that fled across its sunlit floor. A man cladin a priest's white robe, shaven-headed, and barefooted, enters throughthe southern pylon gate and walks slowly towards a painted graniteshrine, in which sits the image of a woman crowned with the doublecrown of Egypt, surmounted by a lotus bloom, and holding in her hand thesacred sistrum. Now, as though he heard some sound, he halts and lookstowards us, and by the heaven above me, his face is the face of LeoVincey in his youth, the face too of that Kallikrates whose corpse wehad seen in the Caves of Kor!
"Look, look!" gasped Leo, catching me by the arm; but I only nodded myhead in answer.
The man walks on again, and kneeling before the goddess in the shrine,embraces her feet and makes his prayer to her. Now the gates roll open,and a procession enters, headed by a veiled, noble-looking woman, whobears offerings, which she sets on the table before the shrine, bendingher knee to the effigy of the goddess. Her oblations made, she turnsto depart, and as she goes brushes her hand against the hand of thewatching priest, who hesitates, then follows her.
When all her company have passed the gate she lingers alone in theshadow of the pylon, whispering to the priest and pointing to the riverand the southern land beyond. He is disturbed; he reasons with her,till, after one swift glance round, she lets drop her veil, bendingtowards him and--their lips meet.
As time flies her face is turned towards us, and lo! it is the face ofAtene, and amid her dusky hair the aura is reflected in jewelled gold,the symbol of her royal rank. She looks at the shaven priest; she laughsas though in triumph; she points to the westering sun and to the river,and is gone.
Aye, and that laugh of long ago is echoed by Atene at our side, for shealso laughs in triumph and cries aloud to the old Shaman--"True divinerswere my heart and thou! Behold how I won him in the past."
Then, like ice on fire fell the cold voice of the Hesea.
"Be silent, woman, and see how thou didst lose him in the past."
Lo! the scene changes, and on a couch a lovely shape lies sleeping.She dreams; she is afraid; and over her bends and whispers in her ear ashadowy form clad with the emblems of the goddess in the shrine, but nowwearing upon her head the vulture cap. The woman wakes from her dreamand looks round, and oh! the face is the face of Ayesha as it was seenof us when first she loosed her veil in the Caves of Kor.
A sigh went up from us; we could not speak who thus fearfully once morebeheld her loveliness.
Again she sleeps, again the awful form bends over her and whispers. Itpoints, the distance opens. Lo! on a stormy sea a boat, and in the boattwo wrapped in each other's arms, the priest and the royal woman, whileover them like a Vengeance, raw-necked and ragged-pinioned, hovers afollowing vulture, such a vulture as the goddess wore for headdress.
That picture fades from its burning frame, leaving the vast sheetof fire empty as the noonday sky. Then another forms. First a great,smooth-walled cave carpeted with sand, a cave that we remembered well.Then lying on the sand, now no longer shaven, but golden-haired, thecorpse of the priest staring upwards with his glazed eyes, his whiteskin streaked with blood, and standing over him two women. One holdsa javelin in her hand and is naked except for her flowing hair, andbeautiful, beautiful beyond imagining. The other, wrapped in a darkcloak, beats the air with her hands, casting up her eyes as though tocall the curse of Heaven upon her rival's head. And those women are sheinto whose sleeping ear the shadow had whispered, and the royal Egyptianwho had kissed her lover beneath the pylon gate.
Slowly all the figures faded; it was as though the fire ate them up, forfirst they became thin and white as ashes; then vanished. The Hesea, whohad been leaning forward, sank backwards in her chair, as if weary withthe toil of her own magic.
For a while confused pictures flitted rapidly to and fro across the vastmirror of the flame, such as might be reflected from an intelligencecrowded with the memories of over two thousand years which it was tooexhausted to separate and define.
Wild scenes, multitudes of people, great caves, and in them faces,amongst others our own, starting up distorted and enormous, to growtiny in an instant and depart; stark imaginations of Forms towering anddivine; of Things monstrous and inhuman; armies marching, illimitablebattle-fields, and corpses rolled in blood, and hovering over them thespirits of the slain.
These pictures died as the others had died, and the fire was blankagain.
Then the Hesea spoke in a voice very faint at first, that by slowdegrees grew stronger.
"Is thy question answered, O Atene?"
"I have seen strange sights, Mother, mighty limnings worthy of thymagic, but how know I that they are more than vapours of thine own braincast upon yonder fire to deceive and mock us?"[*]
[*] Considered in the light of subsequent revelations, vouchsafed to us by Ayesha herself, I am inclined to believe that Atene's shrewd surmise was accurate, and that these fearful pictures, although founded on events that had happened in the past, were in the main "vapours" cast upon the crater fire; visions raised in our minds to "deceive and mock us."--L. H. H.
"Listen then," said the Hesea, in her weary voice, "to theinterpretation of the writing, and cease to trouble me with thy doubts.Many an age ago, but shortly after I began to live this last, long lifeof mine, Isis, the great goddess of Egypt, had her Holy House at Behbit,near the Nile. It is a ruin now, and Isis has departed from Egypt,though still under the Power that fashioned it and her: she rules theworld, for she is Nature's self. Of that shrine a certain man, a Greek,Kallikrates by name, was chief priest, chosen for her service by thefavour of the goddess, vowed to her eternally and to her alone, by thedreadful oath that might not be broken without punishment as eternal.
"In the flame thou sawest that priest, and here at thy side he stands,re-born, to fulfil his destiny and ours.
"There lived also a daughter of Pharaoh's house, one Amenartas, who c
asteyes of love upon this Kallikrates, and, wrapping him in her spells--forthen as now she practised witcheries--caused him to break his oaths andfly with her, as thou sawest written in the flame. Thou, Atene, wastthat Amenartas.
"Lastly there lived a certain Arabian, named Ayesha, a wise and lovelywoman, who, in the emptiness of her heart, and the sorrow of muchknowledge, had sought refuge in the service of the universal Mother,thinking there to win the true wisdom which ever fled from her. ThatAyesha, as thou sawest also, the goddess visited in a dream, bidding herto follow those faithless ones, and work Heaven's vengeance on them,and promising her in reward victory over death upon the earth and beautysuch as had not been known in woman.
"She followed far; she awaited them where they wandered. Guided by asage named Noot, one who from the beginning had been appointed to herservice and that of another--thou, O Holly, wast that man--she foundthe essence in which to bathe is to outlive Generations, Faiths, andEmpires, saying--"'I will slay these guilty ones. I will slay thempresently, as I am commanded.'
"Yet Ayesha slew not, for now their sin was her sin, since she who hadnever loved came to desire this man. She led them to the Place of Life,purposing there to clothe him and herself with immortality, and let thewoman die. But it was not so fated, for then the goddess smote. Thelife was Ayesha's as had been sworn, but in its first hour, blinded withjealous rage because he shrank from her unveiled glory to the mortalwoman at his side, this Ayesha brought him to his death, and alas! alas!left herself undying.
"Thus did the angry goddess work woe upon her faithless ministers,giving to the priest swift doom, to the priestess Ayesha, long remorseand misery, and to the royal Amenartas jealousy more bitter than lifeor death, and the fate of unending effort to win back that love which,defying Heaven, she had dared to steal, but to be bereft thereof again.
"Lo! now the ages pass, and, at the time appointed, to that undyingAyesha who, whilst awaiting his re-birth, from century to centurymourned his loss, and did bitter penance for her sins, came back theman, her heart's desire. Then, whilst all went well for her and him,again the goddess smote and robbed her of her reward. Before her lover'sliving eyes, sunk in utter shame and misery, the beautiful becamehideous, the undying seemed to die.
"Yet, O Kallikrates, I tell thee that she died not. Did not Ayesha swearto thee yonder in the Caves of Kor that she would come again? for evenin that awful hour this comfort kissed her soul. Thereafter, Leo Vincey,who art Killikrates, did not her spirit lead thee in thy sleep and standwith thee upon this very pinnacle which should be thy beacon light toguide thee back to her? And didst thou not search these many years, notknowing that she companioned thy every step and strove to guard thee inevery danger, till at length in the permitted hour thou earnest back toher?"
She paused, and looked towards Leo, as though awaiting his reply.
"Of the first part of the tale, except from the writing on the Sherd, Iknow nothing, Lady," he said; "of the rest I, or rather we, know that itis true. Yet I would ask a question, and I pray thee of thy charity letthy answer be swift and short. Thou sayest that in the permitted hourI came back to Ayesha. Where then is Ayesha? Art thou Ayesha? And if sowhy is thy voice changed? Why art thou less in stature? Oh! in the nameof whatever god thou dost worship, tell me art thou Ayesha?"
"_I am Ayesha_" she answered solemnly, "that very Ayesha to whom thoudidst pledge thyself eternally."
"She lies, she lies," broke in Atene. "I tell thee, husband--for suchwith her own lips she declares thou art to me--that yonder woman whosays that she parted from thee young and beautiful, less than twentyyears ago, is none other than the aged priestess who for a century atleast has borne rule in these halls of Hes. Let her deny it if she can."
"Oros," said the Mother, "tell thou the tale of the death of thatpriestess of whom the Khania speaks."
The priest bowed, and in his usual calm voice, as though he werenarrating some event of every day, said mechanically, and in a fashionthat carried no conviction to my mind--"Eighteen years ago, on thefourth night of the first month of the winter in the year 2333 of thefounding of the worship of Hes on this Mountain, the priestess of whomthe Khania Atene speaks, died of old age in my presence in the hundredand eighth year of her rule. Three hours later we went to lift her fromthe throne on which she died, to prepare her corpse for burial in thisfire, according to the ancient custom. Lo! a miracle, for she livedagain, the same, yet very changed.
"Thinking this a work of evil magic, the Priests and Priestesses of theCollege rejected her, and would have driven her from the throne. Thereonthe Mountain blazed and thundered, the light from the fiery pillarsdied, and great terror fell upon the souls of men. Then from the deepdarkness above the altar where stands the statue of the Mother of Men,the voice of the living goddess spoke, saying--"'Accept ye her whomI have set to rule over you, that my judgments and my purposes may befulfilled.'
"The Voice ceased, the fiery torches burnt again, and we bowed the kneeto the new Hesea, and named her Mother in the ears of all. That is thetale to which hundreds can bear witness."
"Thou hearest, Atene," said the Hesea. "Dost thou still doubt?"
"Aye," answered the Khania, "for I hold that Oros also lies, or if helies not, then he dreams, or perchance that voice he heard was thineown. Now if thou art this undying woman, this Ayesha, let proof bemade of it to these two men who knew thee in the past. Tear away thosewrappings that guard thy loveliness thus jealously. Let thy shapedivine, thy beauty incomparable, shine out upon our dazzled sight.Surely thy lover will not forget such charms; surely he will know thee,and bow the knee, saying, 'This is my Immortal, and no other woman.'
"Then, and not till then, will I believe that thou art even what thoudeclarest thyself to be, an evil spirit, who bought undying life withmurder and used thy demon loveliness to bewitch the souls of men."
Now the Hesea on the throne seemed to be much troubled, for she rockedherself to and fro, and wrung her white-draped hands.
"Kallikrates," she said in a voice that sounded like a moan, "is thisthy will? For if it be, know that I must obey. Yet I pray thee commandit not, for the time is not yet come; the promise unbreakable is not yetfulfilled. _I am somewhat changed_, Kallikrates, since I kissed thee onthe brow and named thee mine, yonder in the Caves of Kor."
Leo looked about him desperately, till his eyes fell upon the mockingface of Atene, who cried--"Bid her unveil, my lord. I swear to thee I'llnot be jealous."
At that taunt he took fire.
"Aye," he said, "I bid her unveil, that I may learn the best or worst,who otherwise must die of this suspense. Howsoever changed, if she beAyesha I shall know her, and if she be Ayesha, I shall love her."
"Bold words, Kallikrates," answered the Hesea; "yet from my very heart Ithank thee for them: those sweet words of trust and faithfulness to thouknowest not what. Learn now the truth, for I may keep naught back fromthee. When I unveil it is decreed that thou must make thy choice forthe last time on this earth between yonder woman, my rival from thebeginning, and that Ayesha to whom thou art sworn. Thou canst reject meif thou wilt, and no ill shall come to thee, but many a blessing, asmen reckon them--power and wealth and love. Only then thou must tear mymemory from thy heart, for then I leave thee to follow thy fate alone,till at the last the purpose of these deeds and sufferings is madeclear.
"Be warned. No light ordeal lies before thee. Be warned. I can promisethee naught save such love as woman never gave to man, love thatperchance--I know not--must yet remain unsatisfied upon the earth."
Then she turned to me and said:
"Oh! thou, Holly, thou true friend, thou guardian from of old, thou,next to him most beloved by me, to thy clear and innocent spiritperchance wisdom may be given that is denied to us, the little childrenwhom thine arms protect. Counsel thou him, my Holly, with the counselthat is given thee, and I will obey thy words and his, and, whateverbefalls, will bless thee from my soul. Aye, and should he cast me off,then in the Land beyond the lands, in the Star appointed, wh
ere allearthly passions fade, together will we dwell eternally in a friendshipglorious, thou and I alone.
"For _thou_ wilt not reject; thy steel, forged in the furnace of puretruth and power, shall not lose its temper in these small fires oftemptation and become a rusted chain to bind thee to another woman'sbreast--until it canker to her heart and thine."
"Ayesha, I thank thee for thy words," I answered simply, "and by themand that promise of thine, I, thy poor friend--for more I never thoughtto be--am a thousandfold repaid for many sufferings. This I will add,that for my part I know that thou art She whom we have lost, since,whatever the lips that speak them, those thoughts and words are Ayesha'sand hers alone."
Thus I spoke, not knowing what else to say, for I was filled with agreat joy, a calm and ineffable satisfaction, which broke thus feeblyfrom my heart. For now I knew that I was dear to Ayesha as I had alwaysbeen dear to Leo; the closest of friends, from whom she never would beparted. What more could I desire?
We fell back; we spoke together, whilst they watched us silently. Whatwe said I do not quite remember, but the end of it was that, as theHesea had done, Leo bade me judge and choose. Then into my mind therecame a clear command, from my own conscience or otherwhere, who cansay? This was the command, that I should bid her to unveil, and let fatedeclare its purposes.
"Decide," said Leo, "I cannot bear much more. Like that woman, whoevershe may be, whatever happens, I will not blame you, Horace."
"Good," I answered, "I have decided," and, stepping forward, I said: "Wehave taken counsel, Hes, and it is our will, who would learn the truthand be at rest, that thou shouldst unveil before us, here and now."
"I hear and obey," the Priestess answered, in a voice like to that of adying woman, "only, I beseech you both, be pitiful to me, spare me yourmockeries; add not the coals of your hate and scorn to the fires of asoul in hell, for whate'er I am, I became it for thy sake, Kallikrates.Yet, yet I also am athirst for knowledge; for though I know all wisdom,although I wield much power, one thing remains to me to learn--what isthe worth of the love of man, and if, indeed, it can live beyond thehorrors of the grave?"
Then, rising slowly, the Hesea walked, or rather tottered to theunroofed open space in front of the rock chamber, and stood there quitenear to the brink of the flaming gulf beneath.
"Come hither, Papave, and loose these veils," she cried in a shrill,thin voice.
Papave advanced, and with a look of awe upon her handsome face began thetask. She was not a tall woman, yet as she bent over her I noted thatshe seemed to tower above her mistress, the Hesea.
The outer veils fell revealing more within. These fell also, and nowbefore us stood the mummy-like shape, although it seemed to be of lessstature, of that strange being who had met us in the Place of Bones. Soit would seem that our mysterious guide and the high priestess Hes werethe same.
Look! Length by length the wrappings sank from her. Would theynever end? How small grew the frame within? She was very short now,unnaturally short for a full-grown woman, and oh! I grew sick at heart.The last bandages uncoiled themselves like shavings from a stick;two wrinkled hands appeared, if hands they could be called. Then thefeet--once I had seen such on the mummy of a princess of Egypt, and evennow by some fantastic play of the mind, I remembered that on her coffinthis princess was named "The Beautiful."
Everything was gone now, except a shift and a last inner veil about thehead. Hes waved back the priestess Papave, who fell half fainting tothe ground and lay there covering her eyes with her hand. Then utteringsomething like a scream she gripped this veil in her thin talons, toreit away, and with a gesture of uttermost despair, turned and faced us.
Oh! she was--nay, I will not describe her. I knew her at once, for thushad I seen her last before the Fire of Life, and, strangely enough,through the mask of unutterable age, through that cloak of humanity'slast decay, still shone some resemblance to the glorious and superhumanAyesha: the shape of the face, the air of defiant pride that for aninstant bore her up--I know not what.
Yes, there she stood, and the fierce light of the heartless fires beatupon her, revealing every shame.
There was a dreadful silence. I saw Leo's lips turn white and his kneesbegin to give; but by some effort he recovered himself, and stayed stilland upright like a dead man held by a wire. Also I saw Atene--and thisis to her credit--turn her head away. She had desired to see her rivalhumiliated, but that horrible sight shocked her; some sense of theircommon womanhood for the moment touched her pity. Only Simbri, who, Ithink, knew what to expect, and Oros remained quite unmoved; indeed, inthat ghastly silence the latter spoke, and ever afterwards I loved himfor his words.
"What of the vile vessel, rotted in the grave of time? What of the fleshthat perishes?" he said. "Look through the ruined lamp to the eternallight which burns within. Look through its covering carrion to theinextinguishable soul."
My heart applauded these noble sentiments. I was of one mind with Oros,but oh, Heaven! I felt that my brain was going, and I wished that itwould go, so that I might hear and see no more.
That look which gathered on Ayesha's mummy face? At first there had beena little hope, but the hope died, and anguish, anguish, _anguish_ tookits place.
Something must be done, this could not endure. My lips clave together,no word would come; my feet refused to move.
I began to contemplate the scenery. How wonderful were that sheet offlame, and the ripples which ran up and down its height. How awesome itsbillowy crest. It would be warm lying in yonder red gulf below with thedead Rassen, but oh! I wished that I shared his bed and had finishedwith these agonies.
Thank Heaven, Atene was speaking. She had stepped to the side of thenaked-headed Thing, and stood by it in all the pride of her rich beautyand perfect womanhood.
"Leo Vincey, or Kallikrates," said Atene, "take which name thou wilt;thou thinkest ill of me perhaps, but know that at least I scorn to mocka rival in her mortal shame. She told us a wild tale but now, a taletrue or false, but more false than true, I think, of how I robbeda goddess of a votary, and of how that goddess--Ayesha's selfperchance--was avenged upon me for the crime of yielding to the man Iloved. Well, let goddesses--if such indeed there be--take their way andwork their will upon the helpless, and I, a mortal, will take mineuntil the clutch of doom closes round my throat and chokes out life andmemory, and I too am a goddess--or a clod.
"Meanwhile, thou man, I shame not to say it before all these witnesses,I love thee, and it seems that this--this woman or goddess--loves theealso, and she has told us that now, _now_ thou must choose between usonce and for ever. She has told us too that if I sinned against Isis,whose minister be it remembered she declares herself, herself she sinnedyet more. For she would have taken thee both from a heavenly mistressand from an earthly bride, and yet snatch that guerdon of immortalitywhich is hers to-day. Therefore if I am evil, she is worse, nor does theflame that burns within the casket whereof Oros spoke shine so very pureand bright.
"Choose thou then Leo Vincey, and let there be an end. I vaunt notmyself; thou knowest what I have been and seest what I am. Yet I cangive thee love and happiness and, mayhap, children to follow after thee,and with them some place and power. What yonder witch can give thee thoucanst guess. Tales of the past, pictures on the flame, wise maxims andhoneyed words, and after thou art dead once more, promises perhaps, ofjoy to come when that terrible goddess whom she serves so closely shallbe appeased. I have spoken. Yet I will add a word:
"O thou for whom, if the Hesea's tale be true, I did once lay down myroyal rank and dare the dangers of an unsailed sea; O thou whom in agesgone I would have sheltered with my frail body from the sorceries ofthis cold, self-seeking witch; O thou whom but a little while ago at myown life's risk I drew from death in yonder river, choose, choose!"
To all this speech, so moderate yet so cruel, so well-reasoned andyet so false, because of its glosses and omissions, the huddled Ayeshaseemed to listen with a fierce intentness. Yet she made no answer, nota single word, not
a sign even; she who had said her say and scorned toplead her part.
I looked at Leo's ashen face. He leaned towards Atene, drawn perhaps bythe passion shining in her beauteous eyes, then of a sudden straightenedhimself, shook his head and sighed. The colour flamed to his brow, andhis eyes grew almost happy.
"After all," he said, thinking aloud rather than speaking, "I have to donot with unknowable pasts or with mystic futures, but with the thingsof my own life. Ayesha waited for me through two thousand years; Atenecould marry a man she hated for power's sake, and then could poison him,as perhaps she would poison me when I wearied her. I know not what oathsI swore to Amenartas, if such a woman lived. I remember the oaths Iswore to Ayesha. If I shrink from her now, why then my life is a lie andmy belief a fraud; then love will not endure the touch of age and nevercan survive the grave.
"Nay, remembering what Ayesha was I take her as she is, in faith andhope of what she shall be. At least love is immortal and if it must, whylet it feed on memory alone till death sets free the soul."
Then stepping to where stood the dreadful, shrivelled form, Leo kneltdown before it and kissed her on the brow.
Yes, he kissed the trembling horror of that wrinkled head, and I thinkit was one of the greatest, bravest acts ever done by man.
"Thou hast chosen," said Atene in a cold voice, "and I tell thee, LeoVincey, that the manner of thy choice makes me mourn my loss the more.Take now thy--thy bride and let me hence."
But Ayesha still said no word and made no sign, till presently she sankupon her bony knees and began to pray aloud. These were the words ofher prayer, as I heard them, though the exact Power to which it wasaddressed is not very easy to determine, as I never discovered who orwhat it was that she worshipped in her heart--"O Thou minister of thealmighty Will, thou sharp sword in the hand of Doom, thou inevitable Lawthat art named Nature; thou who wast crowned as Isis of the Egyptians,but art the goddess of all climes and ages; thou that leadest the manto the maid, and layest the infant on his mother's breast, that bringestour dust to its kindred dust, that givest life to death, and into thedark of death breathest the light of life again; thou who causest theabundant earth to bear, whose smile is Spring, whose laugh is the rippleof the sea, whose noontide rest is drowsy Summer, and whose sleep isWinter's night, hear thou the supplication of thy chosen child andminister:
"Of old thou gavest me thine own strength with deathless days, andbeauty above every daughter of this Star. But I sinned against theesore, and for my sin I paid in endless centuries of solitude, in thevileness that makes me loathsome to my lover's eyes, and for its diademof perfect power sets upon my brow this crown of naked mockery. Yet inthy breath, the swift essence that brought me light, that brought megloom, thou didst vow to me that I who cannot die should once more pluckthe lost flower of my immortal loveliness from this foul slime of shame.
"Therefore, merciful Mother that bore me, to thee I make my prayer.Oh, let his true love atone my sin; or, if it may not be, then give medeath, the last and most blessed of thy boons!"