CHAPTER XI.
The unfortunate Paulus sat on a stone bench in front of the senator'sdoor, and shivered; for, as dawn approached, the night-air grew cooler,and he was accustomed to the warmth of the sheepskin, which he had nowgiven to Hermas. In his hand he held the key of the church, which he hadpromised the door-keeper to deliver to Petrus; but all was so still inthe senator's house, that he shrank from rousing the sleepers.
"What a strange night this has been!" he muttered to himself, as he drewhis short and tattered tunic closer together. "Even if it were warmer,and if, instead of this threadbare rag, I had a sack of feathers to wrapmyself in, still I should feel a cold shiver if the spirits of hell thatwander about here were to meet me again. Now I have actually seen onewith my own eyes. Demons in women's form rush up the mountain out of theoasis to tempt and torture us in our sleep. What could it have been thatthe goblin in a white robe and with flowing hair held in its arms?Very likely the stone with which the incubus loads our breast when hetorments us. The other one seemed to fly, but I did not see its wings.That side-building must be where the Gaul lives with his ungodly wife,who has ensnared my poor Hermas. I wonder whether she is really sobeautiful! But what can a youth who has grown up among rocks and cavesknow of the charms of women. He would, of course, think the first wholooked kindly at him the most enchanting of her sex. Besides she isfair, and therefore a rare bird among the sunburnt bipeds of the desert.The centurion surely cannot have found the sheepskin or all would notbe so still here; once since I have been here an ass has brayed, once acamel has groaned, and now already the first cock is crowing; but nota sound have I heard from human lips, not even a snore from the stoutsenator or his buxom wife Dorothea, and it would be strange indeed ifthey did not both snore."
He rose, went up to the window of Phoebicius dwelling, and listened atthe half open shutters, but all was still.
An hour ago Miriam had been listening under Sirona's room; afterbetraying her to Phoebicius she had followed him at a distance, and hadslipped back into the court-yard through the stables; she felt that shemust learn what was happening within, and what fate had befallen Hermasand Sirona at the hands of the infuriated Gaul. She was prepared foranything, and the thought that the centurion might have killed them bothwith the sword filled her with bitter-sweet satisfaction. Then, seeingthe light through the crack between the partly open wooden shutters, shesoftly pushed them farther apart, and, resting her bare feet against thewall, she raised herself to look in.
She saw Sirona sitting up upon her couch, and opposite to her the Gaulwith pale distorted features; at his feet lay the sheepskin; in hisright hand he held the lamp, and its light fell on the paved floor infront of the bed, and was reflected in a large dark red pool.
"That is blood," thought she, and she shuddered and closed her eyes.
When she reopened them she saw Sirona's face with crimson cheeks, turnedtowards her husband; she was unhurt--but Hermas?
"'That is his blood!" she thought with anguish, and a voice seemed toscream in her very heart, "I, his murderess, have shed it."
Her hands lost their hold of the shutters, her feet touched the pavementof the yard, and, driven by her bitter anguish of soul, she fled out bythe way she had come--out into the open and up to the mountain. Shefelt that rather would she defy the prowling panthers, the night-chill,hunger and thirst, than appear again before Dame Dorothea, the senator,and Marthana, with this guilt on her soul; and the flying Miriam was oneof the goblin forms that had terrified Paulus.
The patient anchorite sat down again on the stone seat. "The frostis really cruel," thought he, "and a very good thing is such a woollysheepskin; but the Saviour endured far other sufferings than these, andfor what did I quit the world but to imitate Him, and to endure to theend here that I may win the joys of the other world. There, where angelssoar, man will need no wretched ram's fell, and this time certainlyselfishness has been far from me, for I really and truly suffer foranother--I am freezing for Hermas, and to spare the old man pain. Iwould it were even colder! Nay, I will never, absolutely never again laya sheepskin over my shoulders."
Paulus nodded his head as if to signify assent to his own resolve;but presently he looked graver, for again it seemed to him that he waswalking in a wrong path.
"Aye! Man achieves a handful of good, and forthwith his heart swellswith a camel-load of pride. What though my teeth are chattering, I amnone the less a most miserable creature. How it tickled my vanity, inspite of all my meditations and scruples, when they came from Raithu andoffered me the office of elder; I felt more triumphant the first timeI won with the quadriga, but I was scarcely more puffed up with pridethen, than I was yesterday. How many who think to follow the Lordstrive only to be exalted as He is; they keep well out of the way of Hisabasement. Thou, O Thou Most High, art my witness that I earnestly seekit, but so soon as the thorns tear my flesh the drops of blood turn toroses, and if I put them aside, others come and still fling garlands inmy way. I verily believe that it is as hard here on earth to find painwithout pleasure, as pleasure without pain."
While thus he meditated his teeth chattered with cold, but suddenlyhis reflections were interrupted, for the dogs set up a loud barking.Phoebicius was knocking at the senator's door.
Paulus rose at once, and approached the gate-way. He could hearevery word that was spoken in the court-yard; the deep voice was thesenator's, the high sharp tones must be the centurion's.
Phoebicius was demanding his wife back from Petrus, as she had hidden inhis house, while Petrus positively declared that Sirona had not crossedhis threshold since the morning of the previous day.
In spite of the vehement and indignant tones in which his lodger spoke,the senator remained perfectly calm, and presently went away to ask hiswife whether she by chance, while he was asleep, had opened the house tothe missing woman. Paulus heard the soldier's steps as he paced up anddown the court-yard, but they soon ceased, for Dame Dorothea appearedat the door with her husband, and on her part emphatically declared thatshe knew nothing of Sirona.
"Your son Polykarp then," interrupted Phoebicius, "will be betterinformed of her whereabouts."
"My son has been since yesterday at Raithu on business," said Petrusresolutely but evasively; "we expect him home to-day only."
"It would seem that he has been quick, and has returned much sooner,"retorted Phoebicius. "Our preparations for sacrificing on the mountainwere no secret, and the absence of the master of the house is theopportunity for thieves to break in--above all, for lovers who throwroses into their ladies' windows. You Christians boast that you regardthe marriage tie as sacred, but it seems to me that you apply the ruleonly to your fellow-believers. Your sons may make free to take theirpleasure among the wives of the heathen; it only remains to be provedwhether the heathen husbands will be trifled with or not. So far as I amconcerned, I am inclined for anything rather than jesting. I would haveyou to understand that I will never let Caesar's uniform, which I wear,be stained by disgrace, and that I am minded to search your house, andif I find my undutiful wife and your son within its walls, I will carrythem and you before the judge, and sue for my rights."
"You will seek in vain," replied Petrus, commanding himself withdifficulty. "My word is yea or nay, and I repeat once more no, weharbor neither her nor him. As for Dorothea and myself--neither of usis inclined to interfere in your concerns, but neither will we permitanother--be he whom he may--to interfere in ours. This threshold shallnever be crossed by any but those to whom I grant permission, or by theemperor's judge, to whom I must yield. You, I forbid to enter. Sirona isnot here, and you would do better to seek her elsewhere than to fritteraway your time here."
"I do not require your advice!" cried the centurion wrathfully.
"And I," retorted Petrus, "do not feel myself called upon to arrangeyour matrimonial difficulties. Besides you can get back Sirona withoutour help, for it is always more difficult to keep a wife safe in thehouse, than to fetch her back when she has run away."
"You shall learn whom you have to deal with!" threatened the centurion,and he threw a glance round at the slaves, who had collected in thecourt, and who had been joined by the senator's eldest son. "I shallcall my people together at once, and if you have the seducer among youwe will intercept his escape."
"Only wait an hour," said Dorothea, now taking up the word, while shegently touched her husband's hand, for his self-control was almostexhausted, "I and you will see Polykarp ride home on his father's horse.Is it only from the roses that my son threw into your wife's window,that you suppose him to be her seducer--she plays so kindly with allhis brothers and sisters--or are there other reasons, which move you toinsult and hurt us with so heavy an accusation?"
Often when wrathful men threaten to meet with an explosion, like blackthunder-clouds, a word from the mouth of a sensible woman gives thempause, and restrains them like a breath of soft wind.
Phoebicius had no mind to listen to any speech from Polykarp's mother,but her question suggested to him for the first time a rapid retrospectof all that had occurred, and he could not conceal from himself that hissuspicions rested on weak grounds. And at the same time he now said tohimself, that if indeed Sirona had fled into the desert instead of tothe senator's house he was wasting time, and letting the start, whichshe had already gained, increase in a fatal degree.
But few seconds were needed for these reflections, and as he wasaccustomed when need arose to control himself, he said:
"We must see--some means must be found--" and then without any greetingto his host, he slowly returned to his own house. But he had not reachedthe door, when he heard hoofs on the road, and Petrus called after him,"Grant us a few minutes longer, for here comes Polykarp, and he canjustify himself to you in his own person."
The centurion paused, the senator signed to old Jethro to open the gate;a man was heard to spring from his saddle, but it was an Amalekite--andnot Polykarp--who came into the court.
"What news do you bring?" asked the senator, turning half to themessenger and half to the centurion. "My lord Polykarp, your son,"replied the Amalekite--a dark brown man of ripe years with supple limbs,and a sharp tongue--"sends his greetings to you and to the mistress, andwould have you to know that before mid-day he will arrive at home witheight workmen, whom he has engaged in Raithu. Dame Dorothea must be goodenough to make ready for them all and to prepare a meal."
"When did you part from my son?" inquired Petrus.
"Two hours before sundown."
Petrus heaved a sigh of relief, for he had not till now been perfectlyconvinced of his son's innocence; but, far from triumphing or makingPhoebicius feel the injustice he had done him, he said kindly--for hefelt some sympathy with the Gaul in his misfortune:
"I wish the messenger could also give some news of your wife's retreat;she found it hard to accommodate herself to the dull life here in theoasis, perhaps she has only disappeared in order to seek a town whichmay offer more variety to such a beautiful young creature than thisquiet spot in the desert."
Phoebicius waved his hand with a negative movement, implying that heknew better, and said, "I will show you what your nice night-bird leftin my nest. It may be that you can tell me to whom it belongs."
Just as he hastily stepped across the court-yard to his own dwellingPaulus entered by the now open gate; he greeted the senator and hisfamily, and offered Petrus the key of the church.
The sun meanwhile had risen, and the Alexandrian blushed to show himselfin Dame Dorothea's presence in his short and ragged under-garment, whichwas quite inefficient to cover the still athletic mould of his limbs.Petrus had heard nothing but good of Paulus, and yet he measured himnow with no friendly eye, for all that wore the aspect of extravagancerepelled his temperate and methodical nature. Paulus was made consciousof what was passing in the senator's mind when, without vouchsafinga single word, he took the key from his hand. It was not a matter ofindifference to him, that this man should think ill of him, and he said,with some embarrassment:
"We do not usually go among people without a sheepskin, but I have lostmine."
Hardly had he uttered the words, when Phoebicius came back with Hermas'sheepskin in his hand, and cried out to Petrus:
"This I found on my return home, in our sleeping-room."
"And when have you ever seen Polykarp in such a mantle?" asked Dorothea.
"When the gods visit the daughters of men," replied the centurion, "theyhave always made choice of strange disguises. Why should not a perfumedAlexandrian gentleman transform himself for once into one of those roughfools on the mountain? However, even old Homer sometimes nodded--and Iconfess that I was in error with regard to your son. I meant no offence,senator! You have lived here longer than I; who can have made me apresent of this skin, which still seems to be pretty new--horns andall."
Petrus examined and felt the skin, "This is an anchorite's garment," hesaid; "the penitents on the mountain are all accustomed to wear such."
"It is one of those rascals then that has found his way into my house!"exclaimed the centurion. "I bear Caesar's commission, and I am toexterminate ill vagabonds that trouble the dwellers in the oasis, ortravellers in the desert. Thus run the orders which I brought with mefrom Rome. I will drive the low fellows together like deer for hunting,for they are all rogues and villains, and I shall know how to torturethem until I find the right one."
"The emperor will ill-requite you for that," replied Petrus. "They arepious Christians, and you know that Constantine himself--"
"Constantine!" exclaimed the centurion scornfully. "Perhaps he will lethimself be baptized, for water can hurt no one, and he cannot, like thegreat Diocletian, exterminate the masses who run after the crucifiedmiracle-monger, without depopulating the country. Look at these coins;here is the image of Caesar, and what is this on the other side? Is thisyour Nazarene, or is it the old god, the immortal and invincible sun?And is that man one of your creed, who in Constantinople adores Tycheand the Dioscuri Castor and Pollux? The water he is baptized with to-dayhe will wipe away to-morrow, and the old gods will be his defenders, ifin more peaceful times he maintains them against your superstitions."
"But it will be a good while till then," said Perrus coolly. "For thepresent, at least, Constantine is the protector of the Christians. Iadvise you to put your affair into the hands of Bishop Agapitus."
"That he may serve me up a dish of your doctrine, which is bad even forwomen," said the centurion laughing; "and that I may kiss my enemies'feet? They are a vile rabble up there, I repeat it, and they shall betreated as such till I have found my man. I shall begin the hunt thisvery day."
"And this very day you may end it, for the sheepskin is mine."
It was Paulus who spoke these words in a loud and decided tone; all eyeswere at once turned on him and on the centurion.
Petrus and the slaves had frequently seen the anchorite, but neverwithout a sheepskin similar to that which Phoebicius held in his hand.The anchorite's self-accusation must have appeared incredible, andindeed scarcely possible, to all who knew Paulus and Sirona; andnevertheless no one, not even the senator, doubted it for an instant.Dame Dorothea only shook her head incredulously, and though she couldfind no explanation for the occurrence, she still could not but say toherself, that this man did not look like a lover, and that Sirona wouldhardly have forgotten her duty for his sake. She could not indeed bringherself to believe in Sirona's guilt at all, for she was heartily welldisposed towards her; besides--though it, no doubt, was not right--hermotherly vanity inclined her to believe that if the handsome youngwoman had indeed sinned, she would have preferred her fine tallPolykarp--whose roses and flaming glances she blamed in allsincerity--to this shaggy, wild-looking graybeard.
Quite otherwise thought the centurion. He was quite ready to believein the anchorite's confession, for the more unworthy the man for whomSirona had broken faith, the greater seemed her guilt, and the moreunpardonable her levity; and to his man's vanity it seemed to himeasier--particularly in the presence of suc
h witnesses as Petrus andDorothea--to bear the fact that his wife should have sought varietyand pleasure at any cost, even at that of devoting herself to a raggedbeggar, than that she should have given her affections to a younger,handsomer, and worthier man than himself. He had sinned much againsther, but all that lay like feathers on his side of the scales, whilethat which she had done weighed down hers like a load of lead. He beganto feel like a man who, in wading through a bog, has gained firm groundwith one foot, and all these feelings gave him energy to walk up to theanchorite with a self-control, of which he was not generally master,excepting when on duty at the head of his soldiers.
He approached the Alexandrian with an assumption of dignity and ademeanor which testified to his formerly having taken part in therepresentations of tragedies in the theatres of great cities. Paulus,on his part, did not retreat by a single step, but looked at him witha smile that alarmed Petrus and the rest of the bystanders. The law putthe anchorite absolutely into the power of the outraged husband, butPhoebicius did not seem disposed to avail himself of his rights, andnothing but contempt and loathing were perceptible in his tone, as hesaid:
"A man who takes hold of a mangy dog in order to punish him, onlydirties his hand. The woman who betrayed me for your sake, and you--youdirty beggar--are worthy of each other. I could crush you like a flythat can be destroyed by a blow of my hand if I chose, but my swordis Caesar's, and shall never be soiled by such foul blood as yours;however, the beast shall not have cast off his skin for nothing, it isthick, and so you have only spared me the trouble of tearing it off youbefore giving you your due. You shall find no lack of blows. Confesswhere your sweetheart has fled to and they shall be few, but if you areslow to answer they will be many. Lend me that thing there, fellow!"
With these words he took a whip of hippopotamus hide out of acamel-driver's band, went close up to the Alexandrian, and asked: "Whereis Sirona?"
"Nay, you may beat me," said Paulus. "However hard your whip may fall onme, it cannot be heavy enough for my sins; but as to where your wife ishiding, that I really cannot tell you--not even if you were to tear mylimbs with pincers instead of stroking me with that wretched thing."
There was something so genuinely honest in Paulus' voice and tone, thatthe centurion was inclined to believe him; but it was not his way tolet a threatened punishment fail of execution, and this strange beggarshould learn by experience that when his hand intended to hit hard, itwas far from "stroking." And Paulus did experience it, without utteringa cry, and without stirring from the spot where he stood.
When at last Phoebicius dropped his weary arm and breathlessly repeatedhis question, the ill-used man replied, "I told you before I do notknow, and therefore I cannot reveal it."
Up to this moment Petrus, though he had felt strongly impelled to rushto the rescue of his severely handled fellow-believer, had neverthelessallowed the injured husband to have his way, for he seemed disposedto act with unusual mildness, and the Alexandrian to be worthy of allpunishment; but at this point Dorothea's request would not have beenneeded to prompt him to interfere.
He went up to the centurion, and said to him in an undertone, "You havegiven the evil-doer his due, and if you desire that he should undergoa severer punishment than you can inflict, carry the matter--I say oncemore--before the bishop. You will gain nothing more here. Take my wordfor it, I know the man and his fellow-men; he actually knows nothingof where your wife is hiding, and you are only wasting the time andstrength which you would do better to save, in order to search forSirona. I fancy she will have tried to reach the sea, and to get toEgypt or possibly to Alexandria; and there--you know what the Greek cityis--she will fall into utter ruin."
"And so," laughed the Gaul, "find what she seeks--variety, and everykind of pleasure. For a young thing like that, who loves amusement,there is no pleasant occupation but vice. But I will spoil her game; youare right, it is not well to give her too long a start. If she has foundthe road to the sea, she may already--Hey, here Talib!" He beckoned toPolykarp's Amalekite messenger. "You have just come from Raithu; did youmeet a flying woman on the way, with yellow hair and a white face?"
The Amalekite, a free man with sharp eyes, who was highly esteemed inthe senator's house, and even by Phoebicius himself, as a trustworthyand steady man, had expected this question, and eagerly replied:
"At two stadia beyond el Heswe I met a large caravan from Petra, whichrested yesterday in the oasis here; a woman, such as you describe, wasrunning with it. When I heard what had happened here I wanted to speak,but who listens to a cricket while it thunders?"
"Had she a lame greyhound with her?" asked Phoebicius, full ofexpectation.
"She carried something in her arms," answered the Amalekite. "In themoonlight I took it for a baby. My brother, who was escorting thecaravan, told me the lady was no doubt running away, for she hadpaid the charge for the escort not in ready money, but with a goldsignet-ring."
The Gaul remembered a certain gold ring with a finely carved onyx, whichlong years ago he had taken from Glycera's finger, for she had anotherone like it, and which he had given to Sirona on the day of theirmarriage.
"It is strange!" thought he, "what we give to women to bind them to usthey use as weapons to turn against us, be it to please some otherman, or to smooth the path by which they escape from us. It was with abracelet of Glycera's that I paid the captain of the ship that broughtus to Alexandria; but the soft-hearted fool, whose dove flew after me,and I are men of a different stamp; I will follow my flown bird, andcatch it again." He spoke the last words aloud, and then desired one ofthe senator's slaves to give his mule a good feed and drink, for his owngroom, and the superior decurion who during his absence must take hisplace, were also worshippers of Mithras, and had not yet returned fromthe mountain.
Phoebicius did not doubt that the woman who had joined thecaravan--which he himself had seen yesterday--was his fugitive wife, andhe knew that his delay might have reduced his earnest wish to overtakeher and punish her to the remotest probability; but he was a Romansoldier, and would rather have laid violent hands on himself than haveleft his post without a deputy. When at last his fellow-worshippers camefrom their sacrifice and worship of the rising sun, his preparations forhis long journey were completed.
Phoebicius carefully impressed on the decurion all he had to do duringhis absence, and how he was to conduct himself; then he delivered thekey of his house into Petrus' keeping as well as the black slave-woman,who wept loudly and passionately over the flight of her mistress; herequested the senator to bring the anchorite's misdeed to the knowledgeof the bishop, and then, guided by the Amalekite Talib, who rode beforehim on his dromedary, he trotted hastily away in pursuit of the caravan,so as to reach the sea, if possible, before its embarkation.
As the hoofs of the mule sounded fainter and fainter in the distance,Paulus also quitted the senator's courtyard; Dorothea pointed after himas he walked towards the mountain. "In truth, husband," said she, "thishas been a strange morning; everything that has occurred looks as clearas day, and yet I cannot understand it all. My heart aches when I thinkwhat may happen to the wretched Sirona if her enraged husband overtakesher. It seems to me that there are two sorts of marriage; one wasinstituted by the most loving of the angels, nay, by the All-mercifulHimself, but the other it is not to be thought of! How can those twolive together for the future? And that under our roof! Their closedhouse looks to me as though ruined and burnt-out, and we have alreadyseen the nettles spring up which grow everywhere among the ruins ofhuman dwellings."