CHAPTER XV.
It was a splendid morning; not a cloud dimmed the sky which spreadhigh above desert, mountain, and oasis, like an arched tent of uniformdeep-blue silk. How delicious it is to breathe the pure, light, aromaticair on the heights, before the rays of the sun acquire their mid-daypower, and the shadows of the heated porphyry cliffs, growing shorterand shorter, at last wholly disappear!
With what delight did Sirona inhale this pure atmosphere, when aftera long night--the fourth that she had passed in the anchorite's dismalcave-she stepped out into the air. Paulus sat by the hearth, and was sobusily engaged with some carving, that he did not observe her approach.
"Kind good man!" thought Sirona, as she perceived a steaming pot on thefire, and the palm-branches which the Alexandrian had fastened up by theentrance to the cave, to screen her from the mounting sun. She knewthe way without a guide to the spring from which Paulus had brought herwater at their first meeting, and she now slipped away, and went downto it with a pretty little pitcher of burnt clay in her hand. Paulus didindeed see her, but he made as though he neither, saw nor heard, forhe knew she was going there to wash herself, and to dress and smartenherself as well as might be--for was she not a woman! When she returned,she looked not less fresh and charming than on that morning when she hadbeen seen and watched by Hermas. True, her heart was sore, true, she wasperplexed and miserable, but sleep and rest had long since effaced fromher healthy, youthful, and elastic frame all traces left by that fearfulday of flight; and fate, which often means best by us when it shows us ahostile face, had sent her a minor anxiety to divert her from her gravercares.
Her greyhound was very ill, and it seemed that in the ill-treatmentit had experienced, not only its leg had been broken, but that it hadsuffered some internal injury. The brisk, lively little creature felldown powerless when ever it tried to stand, and when she took it up tonurse it comfortably in her lap, it whined pitifully, and looked up ather sorrowfully, and as if complaining to her. It would take neitherfood nor drink; its cool little nose was hot; and when she left thecave, Iambe lay panting on the fine woollen coverlet which Paulus hadspread upon the bed, unable even to look after her.
Before taking the dog the water she had fetched in the gracefuljar--which was another gift from her hospitable friend--she went up toPaulus and greeted him kindly. He looked up from his work, thanked her,and a few minutes later, when she came out of the cave again, asked her,"How is the poor little creature?"
Sirona shrugged her shoulders, and said sadly, "She has drunk nothing,and does not even know me, and pants as rapidly as last evening--if Iwere to lose the poor little beast!--"
She could say no more for emotion, but Paulus shook his head.
"It is sinful," he said, "to grieve so for a beast devoid of reason."
"Iambe is not devoid of reason," replied Sirona. "And even if she were,what have I left if she dies? She grew up in my father's house, whereall loved me; I had her first when she was only a few days old, and Ibrought her up on milk on a little bit of sponge. Many a time, when Iheard the little thing whining for food, have I got out of bed at nightwith bare feet; and so she came to cling to me like a child, and couldnot do without me. No one can know how another feels about such things.My father used to tell us of a spider that beautified the life of aprisoner, and what is a dirty dumb creature like that to my clever,graceful little dog! I have lost my home, and here every one believesthe worst of me, although I have done no one any harm, and no one, noone loves me but Iambe."
"But I know of one who loves every one with a divine and equal love,"interrupted Paulus.
"I do not care for such a one," answered Sirona. "Iambe follows no onebut me; what good can a love do me that I must share with all theworld! But you mean the crucified God of the Christians? He is good andpitiful, so says Dame Dorothea; but he is dead--I cannot see him, norhear him, and, certainly, I cannot long for one who only shows me grace.I want one to whom I can count for something, and to whose life andhappiness I am indispensable."
A scarcely perceptible shudder thrilled through the Alexandrian as shespoke these words, and he thought, as he glanced at her face and figurewith a mingled expression of regret and admiration, "Satan, before hefell, was the fairest among the pure spirits, and he still has powerover this woman. She is still far from being ripe for salvation, and yetshe has a gentle heart, and even if she has erred, she is not lost."
Sirona's eyes had met his, and she said with a sigh, "You look at me socompassionately--if only Iambe were well, and if I succeeded in reachingAlexandria, my destiny would perhaps take a turn for the better."
Paulus had risen while she spoke, and had taken the pot from the hearth;he now offered it to his guest, saying:
"For the present we will trust to this broth to compensate to you forthe delights of the capital; I am glad that you relish it. But tell menow, have you seriously considered what danger may threaten a beautiful,young, and unprotected woman in the wicked city of the Greeks? Would itnot be better that you should submit to the consequences of your guilt,and return to Phoebicius, to whom unfortunately you belong?"
Sirona, at these words, had set down the vessel out of which she waseating, and rising in passionate haste, she exclaimed:
"That shall never, never be!--And when I was sitting up there half-dead,and took your step for that of Phoebicius, the gods showed me a way toescape from him, and from you or anyone who would drag me back to him.When I fled to the edge of the abyss, I was raving and crazed, but whatI then would have done in my madness, I would do now in cold blood--assurely as I hope to see my own people in Arelas once more! What was Ionce, and to what have I come through Phoebicius! Life was to me a sunnygarden with golden trellises and shady trees and waters as bright ascrystal, with rosy flowers and singing birds; and he, he has darkenedits light, and fouled its springs, and broken down its flowers. All nowseems dumb and colorless, and if the abyss is my grave, no one will missme nor mourn for me."
"Poor woman!" said Paulus. "Your husband then showed you very littlelove."
"Love," laughed Sirona, "Phoebicius and love! Only yesterday I told you,how cruelly he used to torture me after his feasts, when he was drunkor when he recovered from one of his swoons. But one thing he did to me,one thing which broke the last thread of a tie between us. No one yethas ever heard a word of it from me; not even Dorothea, who often blamedme when I let slip a hard word against my husband. It was well for herto talk--if I had found a husband like Petrus I might perhaps have beenlike Dorothea. It is a marvel, which I myself do not understand, thatI did not grow wicked with such a man, a man who--why should I concealit--who, when we were at Rome, because he was in debt, and because hehoped to get promotion through his legate Quintillus, sold me--me--tohim. He himself brought the old man--who had often followed meabout--into his house, but our hostess, a good woman, had overheard thematter, and betrayed it all to me. It is so base, so vile--it seems toblacken my soul only to think of it! The legate got little enough inreturn for his sesterces, but Phoebicius did not restore his wages ofsin, and his rage against me knew no bounds when he was transferred tothe oasis at the instigation of his betrayed chief. Now you know all,and never advise me again to return to that man to whom my misfortunehas bound me.
"Only listen how the poor little beast in there is whining. It wants tocome to me, and has not the strength to move."
Paulus looked after her sympathetically as she disappeared under theopening in the rock, and he awaited her return with folded arms. Hecould not see into the cave, for the space in which the bed stood wasclosed at the end by the narrow passage which formed the entrance, andwhich joined it at an angle as the handle of a scythe joins the blade.She remained a long time, and he could hear now and then a tender wordwith which she tried to comfort the suffering creature. Suddenly hewas startled by a loud and bitter cry from Sirona; no doubt, the poorwoman's affectionate little companion was dead, and in the dim twilightof the cave she had seen its dulled eye, and felt the stiffness of deat
hoverspreading and paralyzing its slender limbs. He dared not go intothe cavern, but he felt his eyes fill with tears, and he would willinglyhave spoken some word of consolation to her.
At last she came out, her eyes red with weeping. Paulus had guessedrightly for she held the body of little Iambe in her arms.
"How sorry I am," said Paulus, "the poor little creature was so pretty."
Sirona nodded, sat down, and unfastened the prettily embroidered bandfrom the dog's neck, saying half to herself, and half to Paulus, "Mylittle Agnes worked this collar. I myself had taught her to sew, andthis was the first piece of work that was all her own." She held thecollar up to the anchorite. "This clasp is of real silver," she went on,"and my father himself gave it to me. He was fond of the poor little dogtoo. Now it will never leap and spring again, poor thing."
She looked sadly down at the dead dog. Then she collected herself, andsaid hurriedly, "Now I will go away from here. Nothing--nothing keepsme any longer in this wilderness, for the senator's house, where I havespent many happy hours, and where everyone was fond of me, is closedagainst me, and must ever be so long as he lives there. If you have notbeen kind to me only to do me harm in the end, let me go today, and helpme to reach Alexandria."
"Not to-day, in any case not to-day," replied Paulus. "First I must findout when a vessel sails for Klysma or for Berenike, and then I have manyother things to see to for you. You owe me an answer to my question,as to what you expect to do and to find in Alexandria. Poor child--theyounger and the fairer you are--"
"I know all you would say to me," interrupted Sirona. "Wherever I havebeen, I have attracted the eyes of men, and when I have read in theirlooks that I pleased them, it has greatly pleased me--why should I denyit? Many a one has spoken fair words to me or given me flowers, and sentold women to my house to win me for them, but even if one has happenedto please me better than another, still I have never found it hard tosend them home again as was fitting."
"Till Hermas laid his love at your feet," said Paulus. "He is a boldlad--"
"A pretty, inexperienced boy," said Sirona, "neither more nor less. Itwas a heedless thing, no doubt, to admit him to my rooms, but no vestalneed be ashamed to own to such favor as I showed him. I am innocent,and I will remain so that I may stand in my father's presence withouta blush when I have earned money enough in the capital for the longjourney."
Paulus looked in her face astonished and almost horrified.
Then he had in fact taken on himself guilt which did not exist, andperhaps the senator would have been slower to condemn Sirona, if it hadnot been for his falsely acknowledging it. He stood before her, feelinglike a child that would fain put together some object of artisticworkmanship, and who has broken it to pieces for want of skill. At thesame time he could not doubt a word that she said, for the voice withinhim had long since plainly told him that this woman was no commoncriminal.
For some time he was at a loss for words; at last he said timidly:
"What do you purpose doing in Alexandria?"
"Polykarp says, that all good work finds a purchaser there," sheanswered. "And I can weave particularly well, and embroider withgold-thread. Perhaps I may find shelter under some roof where there arechildren, and I would willingly attend to them during the day. In myfree time and at night I could work at my frame, and when I have scrapedenough together I shall soon find a ship that will carry me to Gaul, tomy own people. Do you not see that I cannot go back to Phoebicius, andcan you help me?"
"Most willingly, and better perhaps than you fancy," said Paulus. "Icannot explain this to you just now; but you need not request me, butmay rather feel that you have a good right to demand of me that I shouldrescue you."
She looked at him in surprised enquiry, and he continued:
"First let me carry away the little dog, and bury it down there. I willput a stone over the grave, that you may know where it lies. It mustbe so, the body cannot be here any longer. Take the thing, which liesthere. I had tried before to cut it out for you, for you complainedyesterday that your hair was all in a tangle because you had not a comb,so I tried to carve you one out of bone. There were none at the shopin the oasis, and I am myself only a wild creature of the wilderness, asorry, foolish animal, and do not use one.
"Was that a stone that fell? Aye, certainly, I hear a man's step; goquickly into the cave and do not stir till I call you."
Sirona withdrew into her rock-dwelling, and Paulus took the body ofthe dog in his arms to conceal it from the man who was approaching.He looked round, undecided, and seeking a hiding-place for it, but twosharp eyes had already detected him and his small burden from the heightabove him; before he had found a suitable place, stones were rolling andcrashing down from the cliff to the right of the cavern, and at the sametime a man came springing down with rash boldness from rock to rock, andwithout heeding the warning voice of the anchorite, flung himself downthe slope, straight in front of him, exclaiming, while he struggled forbreath and his face was hot with hatred and excitement:
"That--I know it well-that is Sirona's greyhound--where is its mistress?Tell me this instant, where is Sirona--I must and will know."
Paulus had frequently seen, from the penitent's room in the church, thesenator and his family in their places near the altar, and he was muchastonished to recognize in the daring leaper, who rushed upon him likea mad man with dishevelled hair and fiery eyes, Polykarp, Petrus' secondson.
The anchorite found it difficult to preserve his calm, and composeddemeanor, for since he had been aware that he had accused Sirona falselyof a heavy sin, while at the same time he had equally falsely confessedhimself the partner of her misdeed, he felt an anxiety that amounted toanguish, and a leaden oppression checked the rapidity of his thoughts.He at first stammered out a few unintelligible words, but his opponentwas in fearful earnest with his question; he seized the collar of theanchorite's coarse garment with terrible violence, and cried in a huskyvoice, "Where did you find the dog? Where is--?"
But suddenly he left go his hold of the Alexandrian, looked at him fromhead to foot, and said softly and slowly:
"Can it be possible? Are you Paulus, the Alexandrian?"
The anchorite nodded assent. Polykarp laughed loud and bitterly, pressedhis hand to his forehead, and exclaimed in a tone of the deepest disgustand contempt:
"And is it so, indeed! and such a repulsive ape too! But I will notbelieve that she even held out a hand to you, for the mere sight of youmakes me dirty." Paulus felt his heart beating like a hammer within hisbreast; and there was a singing and roaring in his ears. When once morePolykarp threatened him with his fist he involuntarily took the postureof an athlete in a wrestling match, he stretched out his arms to tryto get a good hold of his adversary, and said in a hollow, deep tone ofangry warning, "Stand back, or something will happen to you that willnot be good for your bones."
The speaker was indeed Paulus--and yet--not Paulus; it was Menander, thepride of the Palaestra, who had never let pass a word of his comradesthat did not altogether please him. And yet yesterday in the oasis hehad quietly submitted to far worse insults than Polykarp had offeredhim, and had accepted them with contented cheerfulness. Whence thento-day this wild sensitiveness and eager desire to fight?
When, two days since, he had gone to his old cave to fetch the last ofhis hidden gold pieces, he had wished to greet old Stephanus, but theEgyptian attendant had scared him off like an evil spirit with angrycurses, and had thrown stones after him. In the oasis he had attemptedto enter the church in spite of the bishop's prohibition, there to putup a prayer; for he thought that the antechamber, where the spring wasand in which penitents were wont to tarry, would certainly not be closedeven to him; but the acolytes had driven him away with abusive words,and the door-keeper, who a short time since had trusted him with thekey, spit in his face, and yet he had not found it difficult to turn hisback on his persecutors without anger or complaint.
At the counter of the dealer of whom he had bought the woollen coverlet,the li
ttle jug, and many other things for Sirona, a priest had passedby, had pointed to his money, and had said, "Satan takes care of hisown."
Paulus had answered him nothing, had returned to his charge with anuplifted and grateful heart, and had heartily rejoiced once more in theexalted and encouraging consciousness that he was enduring disgrace andsuffering for another in humble imitation of Christ. What was it thenthat made him so acutely sensitive with regard to Polykarp, and oncemore snapped those threads, which long years of self-denial had twinedinto fetters for his impatient spirit? Was it that to the man, whomortified his flesh in order to free his soul from its bonds it seemeda lighter matter to be contemned as a sinner, hated of God, than tolet his person and his manly dignity be treated with contempt? Was hethinking of the fair listener in the cave, who was a witness to hishumiliation? Had his wrath blazed up because he saw in Polykarp, not somuch an exasperated fellow-believer, as merely a man who with bold scornhad put himself in the path of another man?
The lad and the gray-bearded athlete stood face to face like mortalenemies ready for the fight, and Polykarp did not waver, although he,like most Christian youths, had been forbidden to take part in thewrestling-games in the Palaestra, and though he knew that he had to dealwith a strong and practised antagonist.
He himself was indeed no weakling, and his stormy indignation added tohis desire to measure himself against the hated seducer.
"Come on--come on!" he cried; his eyes flashing, and leaning forwardwith his neck out-stretched and ready on his part for the struggle."Grip hold! you were a gladiator, or something of the kind, before youput on that filthy dress that you might break into houses at night, andgo unpunished. Make this sacred spot an arena, and if you succeed inmaking an end of me I will thank you, for what made life worth having tome, you have already ruined whether or no. Only come on. Or perhapsyou think it easier to ruin the life of a woman than to measure yourstrength against her defender? Clutch hold, I say, clutch hold, or--"
"Or you will fall upon me," said Paulus, whose arms had dropped by hisside during the youth's address. He spoke in a quite altered tone ofindifference. "Throw yourself upon me, and do with me what you will; Iwill not prevent you. Here I shall stand, and I will not fight, foryou have so far hit the truth--this holy place is not an arena. Butthe Gaulish lady belongs neither to you nor to me, and who gives you aclaim--?"
"Who gives me a right over her?" interrupted Polykarp, stepping close upto his questioner with sparkling eyes. "He who permits the worshipperto speak of his God. Sirona is mine, as the sun and moon and stars aremine, because they shed a beautiful light on my murky path. My life ismine--and she was the life of my life, and therefore I say boldly, andwould say, if there were twenty such as Phoebicius here, she belongsto me. And because I regarded her as my own, and so regard her still, Ihate you and fling my scorn in your teeth--you are like a hungry sheepthat has got into the gardener's flower-bed, and stolen from the stemthe wonderful, lovely flower that he has nurtured with care, and thatonly blooms once in a hundred years--like a cat that has sneaked intosome marble hall, and that to satisfy its greed has strangled some rareand splendid bird that a traveller has brought from a distant land. Butyou! you hypocritical robber, who disregard your own body with beastlypride, and sacrifice it to low brutality--what should you know of themagic charm of beauty--that daughter of heaven, that can touch eventhoughtless children, and before which the gods themselves do homage!I have a right to Sirona; for hide her where you will--or even if thecenturion were to find her, and to fetter her to himself with chains andrivets of brass--still that which makes her the noblest work of the MostHigh--the image of her beauty--lives in no one, in no one as it lives inme. This hand has never even touched your victim--and yet God has givenSirona to no man as he has given her wholly to me, for to no man canshe be what she is to me, and no man can love her as I do! She has thenature of an angel, and the heart of a child; she is without spot, andas pure as the diamond, or the swan's breast, or the morning-dew in thebosom of a rose. And though she had let you into her house a thousandtimes, and though my father even, and my own mother, and every one,every one pointed at her and condemned her, I would never cease tobelieve in her purity. It is you who have brought her to shame; it isyou--"
"I kept silence while all condemned her," said Paulus with warmth, "forI believed that she was guilty, just as you believe that I am, just asevery one that is bound by no ties of love is more ready to believe evilthan good, Now I know, aye, know for certain, that we did the poor womanan injustice. If the splendor of the lovely dream, that you call Sirona,has been clouded by my fault--"
"Clouded? And by you?" laughed Polykarp. "Can the toad that plunges intothe sea, cloud its shining blue, can the black bat that flits across thenight, cloud the pure light of the full-moon?"
An emotion of rage again shot through the anchorite's heart, but he wasby this time on his guard against himself, and he only said bitterly,and with hardly-won composure:
"And how was it then with the flower, and with the bird, that weredestroyed by beasts without understanding? I fancy you meant no absentthird person by that beast, and yet now you declare that it is notwithin my power even to throw a shadow over your day-star! You seeyou contradict yourself in your anger, and the son of a wise man, whohimself has not long since left the school of rhetoric, should try toavoid that. You might regard me with less hostility, for I will notoffend you; nay, I will repay your evil words with good--perhaps thevery best indeed that you ever heard in your life. Sirona is a worthyand innocent woman, and at the time when Phoebicius came out to seekher, I had never even set eyes upon her nor had my ears ever heard aword pass her lips."
At these words Polykarp's threatening manner changed, and feeling atonce incapable of understanding the matter, and anxious to believe, heeagerly exclaimed:
"But yet the sheepskin was yours, and you let yourself be thrashed byPhoebicius without defending yourself."
"So filthy an ape," said Paulus, imitating Polykarp's voice, "needsmany blows, and that day I could not venture to defend myselfbecause--because--But that is no concern of yours. You must subdue yourcuriosity for a few days longer, and then it may easily happen that theman whose very aspect makes you feel dirty--the bat, the toad--"
"Let that pass now," cried Polykarp. "Perhaps the excitement which thesight of you stirred up in my bruised and wounded heart, led me to useunseemly language. Now, indeed, I see that your matted hair sits rounda well featured countenance. Forgive my violent and unjust attack. I wasbeside myself, and I opened my whole soul to you, and now that you knowhow it is with me, once more I ask you, where is Sirona?"
Polykarp looked Paulus in the face with anxious and urgent entreaty,pointing to the dog as much as to say, "You must know, for here is theevidence."
The Alexandrian hesitated to answer; he glanced by chance at theentrance of the cave, and seeing the gleam of Sirona's white robe behindthe palm-branches, he said to himself that if Polykarp lingered muchlonger, he could not fail to discover her--a consummation to be avoided.
There were many reasons which might have made him resolve to stand inthe way of a meeting between the lady and the young man, but not one ofthem occurred to him, and though he did not even dream that a feelingakin to jealousy had begun to influence him, still he was conscious thatit was his lively repugnance to seeing the two sink into each other'sarms before his very eyes, that prompted him to turn shortly round, totake up the body of the little dog, and to say to the enquirer:
"It is true, I do know where she is hiding, and when the time comes youshall know it too. Now I must bury the animal, and if you will you canhelp me."
Without waiting for any objection on Polykarp's part, he hurried fromstone to stone up to the plateau on the precipitous edge of which he hadfirst seen Sirona. The younger man followed him breathlessly, and onlyjoined him when he had already begun to dig out the earth with hishands at the foot of a cliff. Polykarp was now standing close to theanchorite, and repeated his question with v
ehement eagerness, but Paulusdid not look up from his work, and only said, digging faster and faster:
"Come to this place again to-morrow, and then it may perhaps be possiblethat I should tell you."
"You think to put me off with that," cried the lad. "Then you aremistaken in me, and if you cheat me with your honest-sounding words, Iwill--"
But he did not end his threat, for a clear longing cry distinctly brokethe silence of the deserted mountain: "Polykarp--Polykarp." It soundednearer and nearer, and the words had a magic effect on him for whose earthey were intended.
With his head erect and trembling in every limb, the young man listenedeagerly. Then he cried out, "It is her voice! I am coming, Sirona, Iam coming." And without paying any heed to the anchorite, he was on thepoint of hurrying off to meet her. But Paulus placed himself close infront of him, and said sternly: "You stay here."
"Out of my way," shouted Polykarp beside himself. "She is calling to meout of the hole where you are keeping her--you slanderer--you cowardlyliar! Out of the way I say! You will not? Then defend yourself, youhideous toad, or I will tread you down, if my foot does not fear to besoiled with your poison."
Up to this moment Paulus had stood before the young man with out-spreadarms, motionless, but immovable as an oak-tree; now Polykarp first hithim. This blow shattered the anchorite's patience, and, no longer masterof himself, he exclaimed, "You shall answer to me for this!" and beforea third and fourth call had come from Sirona's lips, he had grasped theartist's slender body, and with a mighty swing he flung him backwardsover his own broad and powerful shoulders on to the stony ground.
After this mad act he stood over his victim with out-stretched legs,folded arms, and rolling eyes, as if rooted to the earth. He waited tillPolykarp had picked himself up, and, without looking round, but pressinghis hands to the back of his head, had tottered away like a drunken man.
Paulus looked after him till he disappeared over the cliff at the edgeof the level ground; but he did not see how Polykarp fell senseless tothe ground with a stifled cry, not far from the very spring whence hisenemy had fetched the water to refresh Sirona's parched lips.