CHAPTER XI.
Paula went up-stairs again, distressed and vexed with herself. Was itthe heat that had enervated her and robbed her of the presence of mindshe usually had at her command? She herself could not understand how itwas that she had not at once taken advantage of the opportunity to pleadto Haschim for her faithful retainer. The merchant might have interestedhimself for Hiram.
The slave at the gate had told her that he had not yet been taken; thetime to intercede, then, had not yet come. But she was resolved to doso, to draw the wrath of her relations down on herself, and, if needshould be, to relate all she had seen in the course of the night, tosave her devoted servant. It was no less than her duty: still, beforehumiliating Orion so deeply she would warn him. The thought of charginghim with so shameful a deed pained her like the need for inflicting aninjury on herself. She hated him, but she would rather have broken themost precious work of art than have branded him--him whose image stillreigned in her heart, supremely glorious and attractive.
Instead of following Mary to breakfast, or offering herself as usual toplay draughts with her uncle, she went back to the sick-room. To meetNeforis or Orion at this moment would have been painful, indeed odiousto her. It was long since she had felt so weary and oppressed. Aconversation with the physician might perhaps prove refreshing; afterthe various agitations of the last few hours she longed for something,be it what it might, that should revive her spirits and give a freshturn to her thoughts.
In the Masdakite's room the Sister coldly asked her what she wanted, andwho had given her leave to assist in tending the sufferers. The leech,who at that moment was moistening the bandage on the wounded man's head,at this turned to the nun and informed her decidedly that he desired theyoung girl's assistance in attending on both his patients. Then he ledthe way sitting-room, saying in subdued into the adjoining tones:
"For the present all is well. Let us rest here a little while."
She sat down on a divan, and he on a seat opposite, and Philippus began:
"You were seeking handsome Orion just now, but you must...."
"What?" she asked gravely. "And I would have you to know that the sonof the house is no more to me than his mother is. Your phrase 'HandsomeOrion' seems to imply something that I do not again wish to hear. But Imust speak to him, and soon, in reference to an important matter."
"To what, then, do I owe the pleasure of seeing you here again? Toconfess the truth I did not hope for your return."
"And why not?"
"Excuse me from answering. No one likes to hear unpleasant things. Ifone of my profession thinks any one is not well...."
"If that is meant for me," replied the girl, "all I can tell you is thatthe one thing on which I still can pride myself is my health. Say whatyou will--the very worst for aught I care. I want something to-day torouse me from lethargy, even if it should make me angry."
"Very well then," replied the leech, "though I am plunging into deepwaters!--As to health, as it is commonly understood, a fish might envyyou; but the higher health--health of mind: that I fear you cannot boastof."
"This is a serious beginning," said Paula. "Your reproof would seem toimply that I have done you or some one else a wrong."
"If only you had!" exclaimed he. "No, you have not sinned against us inany way.--'I am as I am' is what you think of yourself; and what do youcare for others?"
"That must depend on whom you mean by 'others!'"
"Nothing less than all and each of those with whom you live--here, inthis house, in this town, in this world. To you they are mere air--orless; for the air is a tangible thing that can fill a ship's sails anddrive it against the stream, whose varying nature can bring comfort orsuffering to your body."
"My world is within!" said Paula, laying her hand on her heart.
"Very true. And all creation may find room there; for what cannot thehuman heart, as it is called, contain! The more we require it to takeand keep, the more ready it is to hold it. It is unsafe to let thelock rust; for, if once it has grown stiff, when we want to open itno pulling and wrenching will avail. And besides--but I do not want togrieve you.--You have a habit of only looking backwards...."
"And what that is pleasurable lies before me? Your blame is harsh and atthe same time unjust.--Indeed, and how can you tell which way I look?"
"Because I have watched you with the eye of a friend. In truth, Paula,you have forgotten how to look around and forward. The life which liesbehind you and which you have lost is all your world. I once showedyou on a fragmentary papyrus that belonged to my foster father, HorusApollo, a heathen demon represented as going forwards, while his headwas turned on his neck so that the face and eyes looked behind him."
"I remember it perfectly."
"Well, you have long been just like him. 'All things move,' saysHeraclitus, so you are forced to float onwards with the great stream;or, to vary the image, you must walk forwards on the high-road of lifetowards the common goal; but your eye is fixed on what lies behind you,feasting on the prospect of a handsome and wealthy home, kindness andtenderness, noble and loving faces, and a happy, but alas! long-lostexistence. All the same, on you must go.--What must the result be?"
"I must stumble, you think, and fall?"
The physician's reproof had hit Paula all the harder because she couldnot conceal from herself that there was much truth in it. She had comehither on purpose to find encouragement, and these accusations troubledeven her sense of high health. Why should she submit to be taken to tasklike a school-girl by this man, himself still young? If this went on shewould let him hear.... But he was speaking again, and his reply calmedher, and strengthened her conviction that he was a true and well-meaningfriend.
"Not that perhaps," he said, "because--well, because nature has blessedyou with perfect balance, and you go forward in full self-possession asbecomes the daughter of a hero. We must not forget that it is of yoursoul that I am speaking; and that maintains its innate dignity offeeling among so much that is petty and mean."
"Then why need I fear to look back when it gives me so much comfort?"she eagerly enquired, as she gazed in his face with fresh spirit.
"Because it may easily lead you to tread on other people's feet! Thathurts them; then they are annoyed, and they get accustomed to thinkgrudgingly of you--you who are more lovable than they are."
"But quite unjustly; for I am not conscious of ever having intentionallygrieved or hurt any one in my whole life."
"I know that; but you have done so unintentionally a thousand times."
"Then it would be better I should quit them altogether."
"No, and a thousand times no! The man who avoids his kind and lives insolitude fancies he is doing some great thing and raising himself abovethe level of the existence he despises. But look a little closer: it isself-interest and egoism which drive him into the cave and the cloister.In any case he neglects his highest duty towards humanity--or let ussay merely towards the society he belongs to--in order to win what hebelieves to be his own salvation. Society is a great body, and everyindividual should regard himself as a member of it, bound to serve andsuccor it, and even, when necessary, to make sacrifices for it.The greatest are not too great. But those who crave isolation,--youyourself--nay, hear me out, for I may never again risk the danger ofincurring your wrath--desire to be a body apart. What Paula has knownand possessed, she keeps locked in the treasure-house of her memoryunder bolt and key; What Paula is, she feels she still must be--and forwhom? Again, for that same Paula. She has suffered great sorrow and onthat her soul lives; but this is evil nourishment, unwholesome and badfor her."
She was about to rise; but he bent forward, with a zealous convictionthat he must not allow himself to be interrupted, and lightly touchedher arm as though to prevent her quitting her seat, while he went onunhesitatingly:
"You feed on your old sorrows! Well and good. Many a time have I seenthat trial can elevate the soul. It can teach a brave heart to feel thewoes of others more deeply; it can rouse a desi
re to assuage the griefsof others with beautiful self-devotion. Those who have known pain andaffliction enjoy ease and pleasure with double satisfaction; suffererslearn to be grateful for even the smaller joys of life. But you?--Ihave long striven for courage to tell you so--you derive no benefit fromsuffering because you lock it up in your breast--as if a man were toenclose some precious seed in a silver trinket to carry about with him.It should be sown in the earth, to sprout and bear fruit! However, I donot blame you; I only wish to advise you as a true and devoted friend.Learn to feel yourself a member of the body to which your destiny hasbound you for the present, whether you like it or not. Try to contributeto it all that your capacities allow you achieve. You will find that youcan do something for it; the casket will open, and to your surpriseand delight you will perceive that the seed dropped into the soil willgerminate, that flowers will open and fruit will form of which you maymake bread, or extract from it a balm for yourself or for others! Thenyou will leave the dead to bury the dead, as the Bible has it, anddedicate to the living those great powers and gracious gifts which anillustrious father and a noble mother--nay, and a long succession ofdistinguished ancestors, have bequeathed to a descendant worthy of them.Then you will recover that which you have lost: the joy in existencewhich we ought both to feel and to diffuse, because it brings with itan obligation which it which is only granted to us once to fulfil. Kindfate has fitted you above a hundred thousand others for being loved;and if you do not forget the gratitude you owe for that, hearts willbe turned to you, though now they shun the tree which has beset itselfintentionally with thorns, and which lets its branches droop like theweeping-willows by the Nile. Thus you will lead a new and beautifullife, receiving and giving joy. The isolated and charmless existence youdrag through here, to the satisfaction of none and least of all to yourown, you can transform to one of fruition and satisfaction--breathingand moving healthily and beneficently in the light of day. It liesin your power. When you came up here to give your care to these poorinjured creatures, you took the first step in the new path I desire toshow you, to true happiness. I did not expect you, and I am thankfulthat you have come; for I know that as you entered that door you mayhave started on the road to renewed happiness, if you have the will towalk in it.--Thank God! That is said and over!"
The leech rose and wiped his forehead, looking uneasily at Paula whohad remained seated; her breath came fast, and she was more confused andundecided than he had ever seen her. She clasped her hand over her brow,and gazed, speechless, into her lap as though she wished to smother somepain.
The young physician beat his arms together, like a laborer in the winterwhen his hands are frozen, and exclaimed with distressful emotion: "Yes,I have spoken, and I cannot regret having done so; but what I foresawhas come to pass: The greatest happiness that ever sweetened my dailylife is gone out of it! To love Plato is a noble rule, but greater thanPlato is the truth; and yet, those who preach it must be prepared tofind that truth scares away friends from the unpleasing vicinity of itsill-starred Apostles!"
At this Paula rose, and following the impulse of her generous heart,offered the leech her hand in all sincerity; he grasped it in both his,pressing it so tightly that it almost hurt her, and his eyes glistenedwith moisture as he exclaimed: "That is as I hoped; that is splendid,that is noble! Let me but be your brother, high-souled maiden!--Now,come. That poor, crazy, lovely girl will heal of her death-wound underyour hands if under any!"
"I will come!" she replied heartily; and there was something healthy andcheerful in her manner as they entered the sick-room; but her expressionsuddenly changed, and she asked pensively:
"And supposing we restore the unhappy girl--what good will she get byit?"
"She will breathe and see the sunshine," replied the leech; "she willbe grateful to you, and finally she will contribute what she can to thewhole body. She will be alive in short, she will live. For life--feelit, understand it as I do--life is the best thing we have." Paula gazedwith astonishment in the man's unlovely but enthusiastic face. Howradiantly joyful!
No one could have called it ugly at this moment, or have said that itlacked charm.
He believed what he had asserted with such fervent feeling, though itwas in contradiction to a view he had held only yesterday and oftendefended: that life in itself was misery to all who could not grasp itof their own strength, and make something of it worth making. At thismoment he really felt that it was the best gift.
Paula went forward, and his eyes followed her, as the gaze of the piouspilgrim is fixed on the holy image he has travelled to see, over seasand mountains, with bruised feet.
They went up to the sick girl's bed. The nun drew back, making her ownreflections on the physician's altered mien, and his childlike, beamingcontentment, as he explained to Paula what particular peril threatenedthe sufferer, and by what treatment he hoped to save her; how to makethe bandages and give the medicines, and how necessary it was to acceptthe poor crazy girl's fancies and treat them as rational ideas so longas the fever lasted.
At last he was forced to go and attend to other patients. Paula remainedsitting at the head of the bed and gazing at the face of the sufferer.
How fair it was! And Orion had snatched this rose in the bud, andtrodden it under foot! She had, no doubt, felt for him what Paulaherself felt. And now? Did she feel nothing but hatred of him, or couldher heart, in spite of her indignation and scorn, not altogether castoff the spell that had once bound it?
What weakness was this! She was, she must, she would be his foe!
Her thoughts went back to the idle and futile life that she had led forso many years. The physician had hit the mark; and he had been tooeasy rather than severe. Yes, she would begin to make good use ofher powers--but how, in what way, here and among these people? Howtransfigured poor Philippus had seemed when she had given him her hand;with what energy had he poured forth his words.
"And how false," she mused, "is the saying that the body is the mirrorof the soul! If it were so, Philippus would have the face of Orion, andOrion that of Philippus." But could Orion's heart be wholly reprobate?Nay, that was impossible; her every impulse resisted the belief. Shemust either love him or hate him, there was no third alternative; but asyet the two passions were struggling within her in a way that was quiteintolerable.
The physician had spoken of being a brother to her, and she could nothelp smiling at the idea. She could, she thought, live very happily andcalmly with him, with her nurse Betta, and with the learned old friendwho shared his home, and of whom he had often talked to her; she couldjoin him in his studies, help him in his calling, and discuss manythings well worth knowing. Such a life, she told herself, would bea thousand times preferable to this, with Neforis. In him she hadcertainly found a friend; and her glad recognition of the fact was thefirst step towards the fulfilment of his promise, since it showed thather heart was still ready to go forth to the kindness of another.
Amid these meditations, however, her anxiety for Hiram constantlyrecurred to her, and it was clear to her mind that, if she and Orionshould come to extremities, she could no longer dwell under thegovernor's roof. Often she had longed for nothing so fervently as to beable to quit it; but to-day it filled her with dread, for parting fromher uncle necessarily involved parting from his son. She hated him;still, to lose sight of him altogether would be very hard to bear. To gowith Philippus and live with him as his sister would never do; nay, itstruck her as something inconceivable, strangely incongruous.
Meanwhile she listened to Mandane's breathing and treated her inobedience to the leech's orders, longing for his return; presentlyhowever, not he but the nun came to the bed-side, laid her hand on thegirl's forehead, and without paying any heed to Paula, whispered kindly:"That is right child, sleep away; have a nice long sleep. So long as shecan be kept quiet; if only she goes on like this!--Her head is cooler.Philippus will certainly say there is scarcely any fever. Thank God, theworst danger is over!"
"Oh, how glad I am!" cried Paula, and s
he spoke with such warmth andsincerity that the nun gave her a friendly nod and left the sick girl toher care, quite satisfied.
It was long since Paula had felt so happy. She fancied that her presencehad had a good affect on the sufferer, that Mandane had already beenbrought by her nursing to the threshold of a new life. Paula, whobut just now had regarded herself as a persecuted victim of Fate, nowbreathed more freely in the belief that she too might bring joy to someone. She looked into Mandane's more than pretty face with real joy andtenderness, laid the bandage which had slipped aside gently over herears, and breathed a soft kiss on her long silken lashes.
She rapidly grew in favor with the shrewd nun; when the hour for prayercame round, the sister included in her petitions--Paula--the orphanunder a stranger's roof, the Greek girl born, by the inscrutable decreesof God, outside the pale of her saving creed. At length Philippusreturned; he was rejoiced at his new friend's brightened aspect, anddeclared that Mandane had, under her care, got past the first and worstdanger, and might be expected to recover, slowly indeed, but completely.
After Paula had renewed the compress--and he intentionally left her todo it unaided, he said encouragingly:
"How quickly you have learnt your business.--Now, the patient is asleepagain; the Sister will keep watch, and for the present we can be of nouse to the girl; sleep is the best nourishment she can have. But withus--or at any rate with me, it is different. We have still two hours towait for the next meal: my breakfast is standing untouched, and yoursno doubt fared the same; so be my guest. They always send up enough tosatisfy six bargemen."
Paula liked the proposal, for she had long been hungry. The nun wasdesired to hasten to fetch some more plates, of drinking-vessels therewas no lack--and soon the new allies were seated face to face, each ata small table. He carved the duck and the roast quails, put the saladbefore her and some steaming artichokes, which the nun had brought upat the request of the cook whose only son the physician had saved; heinvited her attention to the little pies, the fruits and cakes whichwere laid ready, and played the part of butler; and then, while theyheartily enjoyed the meal, they carried on a lively conversation.
Paula for the first time asked Philippus to tell her something of hisearly youth; he began with an account of his present mode of life, as apartner in the home of the singular old priest of Isis, Horus Apollo,a diligent student; he described his strenuous activity by day and hisquiet studies by night, and gave everything such an amusing aspect thatoften she could not help laughing. But presently he was sad, as he toldher how at an early age he had lost his father and mother, and wasleft to depend solely on himself and on a very small fortune, having norelations; for his father had been a grammarian, invited to Alexandriafrom Athens, who had been forced to make a road for himself throughlife, which had lain before him like an overgrown jungle of papyrusand reeds. Every hour of his life was devoted to his work, for a rough,outspoken Goliath, such as he, never could find it easy to meet withhelpful patrons. He had managed to live by teaching in the high schoolsof Alexandria, Athens, and Caesarea, and by preparing medicines fromchoice herbs--drinking water instead of wine, eating bread and fruitinstead of quails and pies; and he had made a friend of many a good man,but never yet of a woman--it would be difficult with such a face as his!
"Then I am the first?" said Paula, who felt deep respect for the man whohad made his way by his own energy to the eminent position which hehad long held, not merely in Memphis, but among Egyptian physiciansgenerally.
He nodded, and with such a blissful smile that she felt as though asunbeam had shone into her very soul. He noticed this at once, raisedhis goblet, and drank to her, exclaiming with a flush on his cheek:
"The joy that comes to others early has come to me late; but then thewoman I call my friend is matchless!"
"Well, it is to be hoped she may not prove to be so wicked as you justnow described her.--If only our alliance is not fated to end soon andabruptly."
"Ah!" cried the physician, "every drop of blood in my veins...."
"You would be ready to shed it for me," Paula broke in, with a patheticgesture, borrowed from a great tragedian she had seen at the theatre inDamascus. "But never fear: it will not be a matter of life and death--atworst they will but turn me out of the house and of Memphis."
"You?" cried Philippus startled, "but who would dare to do so?"
"They who still regard me as a stranger.--You described the caseadmirably. If they have their way, my dear new friend, our fate will belike that of the learned Dionysius of Cyrene."
"Of Cyrene?"
"Yes. It was my father who told me the story. When Dionysius sent hisson to the High School at Athens, he sat down to write a treatise forhim on all the things a student should do and avoid. He devoted himselfto the task with the utmost diligence; but when, at the end of fouryears, he could write on the last leaf of the roll. 'Here this book hatha happy ending,' the young man whose studies it was intended to guidecame home to Cyrene, a finished scholar."
"And we have struck up a friendship...?"
"And made a treaty of alliance, only to be parted ere long."
Philippus struck his fist vehemently on the little table in front of hiscouch and exclaimed: "That I will find means to prevent!--But now, tellme in confidence, what has last happened between you and the familydown-stairs?"
"You will know quite soon enough."
"Whichever of them fancies that you can be turned out of doorswithout more ado and there will be an end between us, may find himselfmistaken!" cried the physician with an angry sparkle in his eyes. "Ihave a right to put in a word in this house. It has not nearly come tothat yet, and what is more, it never shall. You shall quit it certainly;but of your own free will, and holding your head high...."
As he spoke the door of the outer room was hastily opened and the nextinstant Orion was standing before them, looking with great surprise atthe pair who had just finished their meal. He said coldly:
"I am disturbing you, I see."
"Not in the least," replied the leech; and the young man, perceivingwhat bad taste it would be and how much out of place to give expressionto his jealous annoyance, said, with a smile: "If only it had beengranted to a third person to join in this symposium!"
"We found each other all-sufficient company," answered Philippus.
"A man who could believe in all the doctrines of the Church as readilyas in that statement would be assured of salvation," laughed Orion. "Iam no spoilsport, respected friends; but I deeply regret that I must,on the present occasion, disturb your happiness. The matter inquestion...." And he felt he might now abandon the jesting tone which solittle answered to his mood, "is a serious one. In the first instance itconcerns your freedman, my fair foe."
"Has Hiram come back?" asked Paula, feeling herself turn pale.
"They have brought him in," replied Orion. "My father at once summonedthe court of judges. Justice has a swift foot here with us; I am sorryfor the man, but I cannot prevent its taking its course. I must beg ofyou to appear at the examination when you are called."
"The whole truth shall be told!" said Paula sternly and firmly.
"Of course," replied Orion. Then turning to the physician, he added: "Iwould request you, worthy Esculapius, to leave me and my cousin togetherfor a few minutes. I want to give her a word of counsel which willcertainly be to her advantage."
Philippus glanced enquiringly at the girl; she said with clear decision:"You and I can have no secrets. What I may hear, Philippus too mayknow."
Orion, with a shrug, turned to leave the room:
On the threshold he paused, exclaiming with some excitement and genuinedistress:
"If you will not listen to me for your own sake, do so at least,whatever ill-feeling you may bear me, because I implore you not torefuse me this favor. It is a matter of life or death to one humanbeing, of joy or misery to another. Do not refuse me.--I ask nothingunreasonable, Philippus. Do as I entreat you and leave us for a momentalone."
Again
the physician's eyes consulted the young girl's; this time shesaid: "Go!" and he immediately quitted the room.
Orion closed the door.
"What have I done, Paula," he began with panting breath, "that sinceyesterday you have shunned me like a leper--that you are doing yourutmost to bring me to ruin?"
"I mean to plead for the life of a trusty servant; nothing more," shesaid indifferently.
"At the risk of disgracing me!" he retorted bitterly.
"At that risk, no doubt, if you are indeed so base as to throw your ownguilt on the shoulders of an honest man."
"Then you watched me last night?"
"The merest chance led me to see you come out of the tablinum...."
"I do not ask you now what took you there so late," he interrupted, "forit revolts me to think anything of you but the best, the highest.--Butyou? What have you experienced at my hands but friendship--nay, forconcealment or dissimulation is here folly--but what a lover...?"
"A lover!" cried Paula indignantly. "A lover? Dare you utter the word,when you have offered your heart and hand to another--you...."
"Who told you so?" asked Orion gloomily.
"Your own mother."
"That is it; so that is it?" cried the young man, clasping his handsconvulsively. "Now I begin to see, now I understand. But stay. For ifit is indeed that which has roused you to hate me and persecute me, youmust love me, Paula--you do love me, and then, noblest and sweetest...."He held out his hand; but she struck it aside, exclaiming in a tremulousvoice:
"Be under no delusion. I am not one of the feeble lambs whom you havebeguiled by the misuse of your gifts and advantages; and who then areeager to kiss your hands. I am the daughter of Thomas; and anotherwoman's betrothed, who craves my embraces on the way to his wedding,will learn to his rueing that there are women who scorn his disgracefulsuit and can avenge the insult intended them. Go--go to your judges!You, a false witness, may accuse Hiram, but I will proclaim you, you theson of this house, as the thief! We shall see which they believe."
"Me!" cried Orion, and his eyes flashed as wrathfully and vindictivelyas her own. "The son of the Mukaukas! Oh, that you were not a woman!I would force you to your knees and compel you to crave my pardon. Howdare you point your finger at a man whose life has hitherto been asspotless as your own white raiment? Yes, I did go to the tablinum--Idid tear the emerald from the hanging; but I did it in a fit ofrecklessness, and in the knowledge that what is my father's is mine. Ithrew away the gem to gratify a mere fancy, a transient whim. Cursed bethe hour when I did it!--Not on account of the deed itself, but of theconsequences it may entail through your mad hatred. Jealousy, petty,unworthy jealousy is at the bottom of it! And of whom are you jealous?"
"Of no one; not even of your betrothed, Katharina," replied Paula withforced composure. "What are you to me that, to spare you humiliation,I should risk the life of the most honest soul living? I have said: Thejudges shall decide between you."
"No, they shall not!" stormed Orion. "At least, not as you intend!Beware, beware, I say, of driving me to extremities! I still see in youthe woman I loved; I still offer you what lies within my power: to leteverything end for the best for you...."
"For me! Then I, too, am to suffer for your guilt?"
"Did you hear the barking of hounds just now?"
"I heard dogs yelping."
"Very well.--Your freedman has been brought in, the pack got on hisscent and have now been let into the house close to the tablinum. Thedogs would not stir beyond the threshold and on the white marble step,towards the right-hand side, the print of a man's foot was found inthe dust. It is a peculiar one, for instead of five toes there are butthree. Your Hiram was fetched in, and he was found to have the samenumber of toes as the mark on the marble, neither more nor less. A horsetrod on his foot, in your father's stable, and two of his toes had tobe cut off: we got this out of the stammering wretch with somedifficulty.--On the other side of the door-way there was a smallerprint, but though the dogs paid no heed to that I examined it, andassured myself--how, I need not tell you--that it was you who had stoodthere. He, who has no business whatever in the house, must have made hisway last night into the tablinum, our treasury. Now, put yourself in thejudges' place. How can such facts be outweighed by the mere word of agirl who, as every one knows, is on anything rather than good terms withmy mother, and who will leave no stone unturned to save her servant."
"Infamous!" cried Paula. "Hiram did not steal the gem, as you must knowwho stole it. The emerald he sold was my property; and were those stonesreally so much alike that even the seller..."
"Yes, indeed. He could not tell one from the other. Evil spirits havebeen at work all through, devilish, malignant demons. It would be enoughto turn one's brain, if life were not so full of enigmas! You yourselfare the greatest.--Did you give the Syrian your emerald to sell in orderto fly from this house with the money?--You are silent? Then I amright. What can my father be to you--you do not love my mother--and theson!--Paula, Paula, you are perhaps doing him an injustice--you hatehim, and it is a pleasure to you to injure him."
"I do not wish to hurt you or any one," replied the girl. "And you haveguessed wrongly. Your father refused me the means of seeking mine."
"And you wanted to procure money to search for one who is long sincedead!--Even my mother admits that you speak the truth; if she is right,and you really take no pleasure in doing me a mischief, listen to me,follow my advice, and grant my prayer! I do not ask any great matter."
"Speak on then."
"Do you know what a man's honor is to him? Need I tell you that I am alost and despised man if I am found guilty of this act of the maddestfolly by the judges of my own house? It may cost my father his lifeif he hears that the word 'guilty' is pronounced on me; and I--I--whatwould become of me I cannot foresee!--I--oh God, oh God, preserve mefrom frenzy!--But I must be calm; time presses.... How different it isfor your servant; he seems ready even now to take the guilt on himself,for, whatever he is asked, he still keeps silence. Do you do the same;and if the judges insist on knowing what you had to do with the Syrianlast night--for the dogs traced the scent to your staircase--hazarda conjecture that the faithful fellow stole the emerald in order togratify your desire to search for your father, his beloved master. Ifyou can make up your mind to so great a sacrifice--oh, that I shouldhave to ask it of you!--I swear to you by all I hold sacred, by yourselfand by my father's head, I will set Hiram free within three days,unbeaten and unhurt, and magnificently indemnified; and I will myselfhelp him on the way whither he may desire to go, or you to send him,in search of your father.--Be silent; remain neutral in the background;that is all I ask, and I will keep my word--that, at any rate, you donot doubt?" She had listened to him with bated breath; she pitied himdeeply as he stood there, a suppliant in bitter anguish of soul, acriminal who still could not understand that he was one, and who reliedon the confidence that, only yesterday, he still had had the right toexact from all the world. He appeared before her like a fine proud treestruck by lightning, whose riven trunk, trembling to its fall, must becrushed to the earth by the first storm, unless the gardener props itup. She longed to be able to forget all he had brought upon her and tograsp his hand in friendly consolation; but her deeply aggrieved pridehelped her to preserve the cold and repellent manner she had so farsucceeded in assuming.
With much hesitation and reserve she consented to be silent as long ashe kept his promise. It was for his father's sake, rather than his own,that she would so far become his accomplice: at the same time everythingelse was at an end between them, and she should bless the hour whichmight see her severed from him and his for ever.
The end of her speech was in a strangely hard and repellent tone; shefelt she must adopt it to disguise how deeply she was touched by hisunhappiness and by the extinction of the sunshine in him which had oncewarmed her own heart too with bliss. To him it seemed that an icy rigorbreathed in her words--bitter contempt and hostile revulsion. He hadsome difficulty in keeping him
self from breaking out again in violentwrath. He was almost sorry that he had trusted her with his secret andbegged her for mercy, instead of leaving things to run their course, andif it had come to the worst, dragging her to perdition with him. Soonerwould he forfeit honor and peace than humble himself again before thispitiless and cold-hearted foe. At this moment he really hated her, andonly wished it were possible to fight her, to break her pride, to seeher vanquished and crying for quarter at his feet. It was with a greateffort--with tingling cheeks and constrained utterance that he said:
"Severance from you is indeed best for us all.--Be ready: the judgeswill send for you soon."
"Very well," she replied. "I will be silent; you have only to providefor the Syrian's safety. You have given me your word."
"And so long as you keep yours I will keep mine. Or else..." the wordswould come from his quivering lips--"or else war to the knife!"
"War to the knife!" she echoed with flashing eyes. "But one thing more.I have proof that the emerald which Hiram sold belonged to me. By allthe saints--proof!"
"So much the better for you," he said. "Woe to us both, if you force meto forget that you are a woman!"
And he left the room with a rapid step.