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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16720-8.txt b/16720-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..705bfec --- /dev/null +++ b/16720-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14314 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Marzio's Crucifix and Zoroaster, by F. Marion +Crawford + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Marzio's Crucifix and Zoroaster + + +Author: F. Marion Crawford + + + +Release Date: September 18, 2005 [eBook #16720] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARZIO'S CRUCIFIX AND ZOROASTER*** + + +E-text prepared by John Hagerson, Kevin Handy, Graeme Mackreth, and the +Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team +(https://www.pgdp.net/) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 16720-h.htm or 16720-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/2/16720/16720-h/16720-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/2/16720/16720-h.zip) + + + + + +The Novels of F. Marion Crawford +In Twenty-five Volumes, Authorized Edition + +MARZIO'S CRUCIFIX + +and + +ZOROASTER + +by + +F. MARION CRAWFORD + +With Frontispiece + +P.F. Collier & Son +New York + +1887 + + + + + + + +[Illustration: HE MOVED NOT THROUGH THE LONG HOURS OF DAY. +--_Zoroaster_.] + + + +[Illustration] + + + + + +MARZIO'S CRUCIFIX + + + +CHAPTER I + + +"The whole of this modern fabric of existence is a living lie!" cried +Marzio Pandolfi, striking his little hammer upon the heavy table with an +impatient rap. Then he dropped it and turning on his stool rested one +elbow upon the board while he clasped his long, nervous fingers together +and stared hard at his handsome apprentice. Gianbattista Bordogni looked +up from his work without relinquishing his tools, nodded gravely, stared +up at the high window, and then went on hammering gently upon his little +chisel, guiding the point carefully among the delicate arabesques traced +upon the silver. + +"Yes," he said quietly, after a few seconds, "it is all a lie. But what +do you expect, Maestro Marzio? You might as well talk to a stone wall as +preach liberty to these cowards." + +"Nevertheless, there are some--there are half a dozen--" muttered +Marzio, relapsing into sullen discontent and slowly turning the body of +the chalice beneath the cord stretched by the pedal on which he pressed +his foot. Having brought under his hand a round boss which was to become +the head of a cherub under his chisel, he rubbed his fingers over the +smooth silver, mechanically, while he contemplated the red wax model +before him. Then there was silence for a space, broken only by the +quick, irregular striking of the two little hammers upon the heads of +the chisels. + +Maestro Marzio Pandolfi was a skilled workman and an artist. He was one +of the last of those workers in metals who once sent their masterpieces +from Rome to the great cathedrals of the world; one of the last of the +artistic descendants of Caradosso, of Benvenuto Cellini, of Claude +Ballin, and of all their successors; one of those men of rare talent who +unite the imagination of the artist with the executive skill of the +practised workman. They are hard to find nowadays. Of all the twenty +chisellers of various ages who hammered from morning till night in the +rooms outside, one only--Gianbattista Bordogni--had been thought worthy +by his master to share the privacy of the inner studio. The lad had +talent, said Maestro Marzio, and, what was more, the lad had +ideas--ideas about life, about the future of Italy, about the future of +the world's society. Marzio found in him a pupil, an artist and a +follower of his own political creed. + +It was a small room in which they worked together. Plain wooden shelves +lined two of the walls from the floor to the ceiling. The third was +occupied by tables and a door, and in the fourth high grated windows +were situated, from which the clear light fell upon the long bench +before which the two men sat upon high stools. Upon the shelves were +numerous models in red wax, of chalices, monstrances, marvellous ewers +and embossed basins for the ablution of the priests' hands, crucifixes, +crowns, palm and olive branches--in a word, models of all those things +which pertain to the service and decoration of the church, and upon +which it has been the privilege of the silversmith to expend his art and +labour from time immemorial until the present day. There were some few +casts in plaster, but almost all were of that deep red, strong-smelling +wax which is the most fit medium for the temporary expression and study +of very fine and intricate designs. There is something in the very +colour which, to one acquainted with the art, suggests beautiful +fancies. It is the red of the Pompeian walls, and the rich tint seems to +call up the matchless traceries of the ancients. Old chisellers say that +no one can model anything wholly bad in red wax, and there is truth in +the saying. The material is old--the older the better; it has passed +under the hand of the artist again and again; it has taken form, served +for the model of a lasting work, been kneaded together in a lump, been +worked over and over by the boxwood tool. The workman feels that it has +absorbed some of the qualities of the master's genius, and touches it +with the certainty that its stiff substance will yield new forms of +beauty in his fingers, rendering up some of its latent capacity of shape +at each pressure and twist of the deftly-handled instrument. + +At the extremities of the long bench huge iron vices were fixed by +staples that ran into the ground. In one of these was fastened the long +curved tool which serves to beat out the bosses of hollow and +small-necked vessels. Each of the workmen had a pedal beneath his foot +from which a soft cord ascended, passed through the table, and pressed +the round object on which he was working upon a thick leather cushion, +enabling him to hold it tightly in its place, or by lifting his foot to +turn it to a new position. In pots full of sand were stuck hundreds of +tiny chisels, so that the workmen could select at a glance the exact +form of tool needful for the moment. Two or three half balls of heavy +stone stood in leathern collars, their flat surfaces upwards and covered +with a brown composition of pitch and beeswax an inch thick, in which +small pieces of silver were firmly embedded in position to be chiselled. + +The workshop was pervaded by a smell of wax and pitch, mingled with the +curious indefinable odour exhaled from steel tools in constant use, and +supplemented by the fumes of Marzio's pipe. The red bricks in the +portion of the floor where the two men sat were rubbed into hollows, but +the dust had been allowed to accumulate freely in the rest of the room, +and the dark corners were full of cobwebs which had all the air of being +inhabited by spiders of formidable dimensions. + +Marzio Pandolfi, who bent over his work and busily plied his little +hammer during the interval of silence which followed his apprentice's +last remark, was the sole owner and master of the establishment. He was +forty years of age, thin and dark. His black hair was turning grey at +the temples, and though not long, hung forward over his knitted eyebrows +in disorderly locks. He had a strange face. His head, broad enough at +the level of the eyes, rose to a high prominence towards the back, while +his forehead, which projected forward at the heavy brows, sloped +backwards in the direction of the summit. The large black eyes were deep +and hollow, and there were broad rings of dark colour around them, so +that they seemed strangely thrown into relief above the sunken, +colourless cheeks. Marzio's nose was long and pointed, very straight, +and descending so suddenly from the forehead as to make an angle with +the latter the reverse of the one most common in human faces. Seen in +profile, the brows formed the most prominent point, and the line of the +head ran back above, while the line of the nose fell inward from the +perpendicular down to the small curved nostrils. The short black +moustache was thick enough to hide the lips, though deep furrows +surrounded the mouth and terminated in a very prominent but pointed +chin. The whole face expressed unusual qualities and defects; the gifts +of the artist, the tenacity of the workman and the small astuteness of +the plebeian were mingled with an appearance of something which was not +precisely ideality, but which might easily be fanaticism. + +Marzio was tall and very thin. His limbs seemed to move rather by the +impulse of a nervous current within than by any development of normal +force in the muscles, and his long and slender fingers, naturally yellow +and discoloured by the use of tools and the handling of cements, might +have been parts of a machine, for they had none of that look of humanity +which one seeks in the hand, and by which one instinctively judges the +character. He was dressed in a woollen blouse, which hung in odd folds +about his emaciated frame, but which betrayed the roundness of his +shoulders, and the extreme length of his arms. His apprentice, +Gianbattista Bordogni, wore the same costume; but beyond his clothing he +bore no trace of any resemblance to his master. He was not a bad type +of the young Roman of his class at five-and-twenty years of age. His +thick black hair curled all over his head, from his low forehead to the +back of his neck, and his head was of a good shape, full and round, +broad over the brows and high above the orifice of the ear. His eyes +were brown and not over large, but well set, and his nose was slightly +aquiline, while his delicate black moustache showed the pleasant curve +of his even lips. There was colour in his cheeks, too--that rich colour +which dark men sometimes have in their youth. He was of middle height, +strong and compactly built, with large, well-made hands that seemed to +have more power in them, if less subtle skill, than those of Maestro +Marzio. + +"Remember what I told you about the second indentation of the acanthus," +said the elder workman, without looking round; "a light, light hand--no +holes in this work!" + +Gianbattista murmured a sort of assent, which showed that the warning +was not wanted. He was intent upon the delicate operation he was +performing. Again the hammers beat irregularly. + +"The more I think of it," said Marzio after the pause, "the more I am +beside myself. To think that you and I should be nailed to our stools +here, weekdays and feast-days, to finish a piece of work for a +scoundrelly priest--" + +"A cardinal," suggested Gianbattista. + +"Well! What difference is there? He is a priest, I suppose--a creature +who dresses himself up like a pulcinella before his altar--to--" + +"Softly!" ejaculated the young man, looking round to see whether the +door was closed. + +"Why softly?" asked the other angrily, though his annoyance did not seem +to communicate itself to the chisel he held in his hand, and which +continued its work as delicately as though its master were humming a +pastoral. "Why softly? An apoplexy on your softness! The papers speak as +loudly as they please--why should I hold my tongue? A dog-butcher of a +priest!" + +"Well," answered Gianbattista in a meditative tone, as he selected +another chisel, "he has the money to pay for what he orders. If he had +not, we would not work for him, I suppose." + +"If we had the money, you mean," retorted Marzio. "Why the devil should +he have money rather than we? Why don't you answer? Why should he wear +silk stockings--red silk stockings, the animal? Why should he want a +silver ewer and basin to wash his hands at his mass? Why would not an +earthen one do as well, such as I use? Why don't you answer? Eh?" + +"Why should Prince Borghese live in a palace and keep scores of +horses?" inquired the young man calmly. + +"Ay--why should he? Is there any known reason why he should? Am I not a +man as well as he? Are you not a man--you young donkey? I hate to think +that we, who are artists, who can work when we are put to it, have to +slave for such fellows as that--mumbling priests, bloated princes, a +pack of fools who are incapable of an idea! An idea! What am I saying? +Who have not the common intelligence of a cabbage-seller in the street! +And look at the work we give them--the creation of our minds, the labour +of our hands--" + +"They give us their money in return," observed Gianbattista. "The +ancients, whom you are so fond of talking about, used to get their work +done by slaves chained to the bench--" + +"Yes! And it has taken us two thousand years to get to the point we have +reached! Two thousand years--and what is it? Are we any better than +slaves, except that we work better?" + +"I doubt whether we work better." + +"What is the matter with you this morning?" cried Marzio. "Have you been +sneaking into some church on your way here? Pah! You smell of the +sacristy! Has Paolo been here? Oh, to think that a brother of mine +should be a priest! It is not to be believed!" + +"It is the irony of fate. Moreover, he gets you plenty of orders." + +"Yes, and no doubt he takes his percentage on the price. He had a new +cloak last month, and he asked me to make him a pair of silver buckles +for his shoes. Pretty, that--an artist's brother with silver buckles! I +told him to go to the devil, his father, for his ornaments. Why does he +not steal an old pair from the cardinal, his bondmaster? Not good +enough, I suppose--beast!" + +Marzio laid aside his hammer and chisel, and lit the earthen pipe with +the rough wooden stem that lay beside him. Then he examined the +beautiful head of the angel he had been making upon the body of the +ewer. He touched it lovingly, loosed the cord, and lifted the piece from +the pad, turning it towards the light and searching critically for any +defect in the modelling of the little face. He replaced it on the table, +and selecting a very fine-pointed punch, laid down his pipe for a moment +and set about putting the tiny pupils into the eyes. Two touches were +enough. He began smoking again, and contemplated what he had done. It +was the body of a large silver ewer of which Gianbattista was +ornamenting the neck and mouth, which were of a separate piece. Amongst +the intricate arabesques little angels'-heads were embossed, and on one +side a group of cherubs was bearing a "monstrance" with the sacred Host +through silver clouds. A hackneyed subject on church vessels, but which +had taken wonderful beauty under the skilled fingers of the artist, who +sat cursing the priest who was to use it, while expending his best +talents on its perfections. + +"It is not bad," he said rather doubtfully. "Come and look at it, +Tista," he added. The young man left his place and came and bent over +his master's shoulder, examining the piece with admiration. It was +characteristic of Marzio that he asked his apprentice's opinion. He was +an artist, and had the chief peculiarities of artists--namely, +diffidence concerning what he had done, and impatience of the criticism +of others, together with a strong desire to show his work as soon as it +was presentable. + +"It is a masterpiece!" exclaimed Gianbattista. "What detail! I shall +never be able to finish anything like that cherub's face!" + +"Do you think it is as good as the one I made last year, Tista?" + +"Better," returned the young man confidently. "It is the best you have +ever made. I am quite sure of it. You should always work when you are in +a bad humour; you are so successful!" + +"Bad humour! I am always in a bad humour," grumbled Marzio, rising and +walking about the brick floor, while he puffed clouds of acrid smoke +from his coarse pipe. "There is enough in this world to keep a man in a +bad humour all his life." + +"I might say that," answered Gianbattista, turning round on his stool +and watching his master's angular movements as he rapidly paced the +room. "I might abuse fate--but you! You are rich, married, a father, a +great artist!" + +"What stuff!" interrupted Marzio, standing still with his long legs +apart, and folding his arms as he spoke through his teeth, between which +he still held his pipe. "Rich? Yes--able to have a good coat for +feast-days, meat when I want it, and my brother's company when I don't +want it--for a luxury, you know! Able to take my wife to Frascati on the +last Thursday of October as a great holiday. My wife, too! A creature of +beads and saints and little books with crosses on them--who would leer +at a friar through the grating of a confessional, and who makes the +house hideous with her howling if I choose to eat a bit of pork on a +Friday! A good wife indeed! A jewel of a wife, and an apoplexy on all +such jewels! A nice wife, who has a face like a head from a tombstone in +the Campo Varano for her husband, and who has brought up her daughter to +believe that her father is condemned to everlasting flames because he +hates cod-fish--salt cod-fish soaked in water! A wife who sticks images +in the lining of my hat to convert me, and sprinkles holy water on me +Then she thinks I am asleep, but I caught her at that the other night--" + +"Indeed, they say the devil does not like holy water," remarked +Gianbattista, laughing. + +"And you want to many my daughter, you young fool," continued Marzio, +not heeding the interruption. "You do. I will tell you what she is like. +My daughter--yes!--she has fine eyes, but she has the tongue of the--" + +"Of her father," suggested Gianbattista, suddenly frowning. + +"Yes--of her father, without her father's sense," cried Marzio angrily. +"With her eyes, those fine eyes!--those eyes!--you want to marry her. If +you wish to take her away, you may, and good riddance. I want no +daughter; there are too many women in the world already. They and the +priests do all the harm between them, because the priests know how to +think too well, and women never think at all. I wish you good luck of +your marriage and of your wife. If you were my son you would never have +thought of getting married. The mere idea of it made you send your +chisel through a cherub's eye last week and cost an hoax's time for +repairing. Is that the way to look at the great question of humanity? +Ah! if I were only a deputy in the Chambers, I would teach you the +philosophy of all that rubbish!" + +"I thought you said the other day that you would not have any deputies +at all," observed the apprentice, playing with his hammer. + +"Such as these are--no! A few of them I would put into the acid bath, as +I would a casting, to clean them before chiselling them down. They might +be good for something then. You must begin by knocking down, boy, if you +want to build up. You must knock down everything, raze the existing +system to the ground, and upon the place where it stood shall rise the +mighty temple of immortal liberty." + +"And who will buy your chalices and monstrances under the new order of +things?" inquired Gianbattista coldly. + +"The foreign market," returned Marzio. "Italy shall be herself again, as +she was in the days of Michael Angelo; of Leonardo, who died in the arms +of a king; of Cellini, who shot a prince from the walls of Saint Angelo. +Italy shall be great, shall monopolise the trade, the art, the greatness +of all creation!" + +"A lucrative monopoly!" exclaimed the young man. + +"Monopolies! There shall be no monopolies! The free artisan shall sell +what he can make and buy what he pleases. The priests shall be turned +out in chain gangs and build roads for our convenience, and the +superfluous females shall all be deported to the glorious colony of +Massowah! If I could but be absolute master of this country for a week I +could do much." + +"I have no doubt of it," answered Gianbattista, with a quiet smile. + +"I should think not," assented Marzio proudly; then catching sight of +the expression on the young man's face, he turned sharply upon him. "You +are mocking me, you good-for-nothing!" he cried angrily. "You are +laughing at me, at your master, you villain you wretch, you sickly +hound, you priest-ridden worm! It is intolerable! It is the first time +you have ever dared; do you think I am going to allow you to think for +yourself after all the pains I have taken to educate you, to teach you +my art, you ungrateful reptile?" + +"If you were not such a great artist I would have left you long ago," +answered the apprentice. "Besides, I believe in your principles. It is +your expression of them that makes me laugh now and then; I think you go +too far sometimes!" + +"As if any one had ever gone far enough" exclaimed Marzio, somewhat +pacified, for his moods were very quick. "Since there are still men who +are richer than others, it is a sign that we have not gone to the +end--to the great end in which we believe. I am sure you believe in it +too, Tista, don't you?" + +"Oh yes--in the end--certainly. Do not let us quarrel about the means, +Maestro Marzio. I must do another leaf before dinner." + +"I will get in another cherub's nose," said his master, preparing to +relight his pipe for a whiff before going to work again. "Body of a dog, +these priests!" he grumbled, as he attacked the next angel on the ewer +with matchless dexterity and steadiness. A long pause followed the +animated discourse of the chiseller. Both men were intent upon their +work, alternately holding their breath for the delicate strokes, and +breathing more freely as the chisel reached the end of each tiny curve. + +"I think you said a little while ago that I might marry Lucia," observed +Gianbattista, without looking up, "that is, if I would take her away!" + +"And if you take her away," retorted the other, "where will you get +bread?" + +"Where I get it now. I could live somewhere else and come here to work; +it seems simple enough." + +"It seems simple, but it is not," replied Marzio. "Perhaps you could try +and get Paolo's commissions away from me, and then set up a studio for +yourself; but I doubt whether you could succeed. I am not old yet, nor +blind, nor shaky, thank God!" + +"I did not catch the last words," said Gianbattista, hiding his smile +over his work. + +"I said I was not old, nor broken down yet, thanks to my strength," +growled the chiseller; "you will not steal my commissions yet awhile. +What is the matter with you to-day? You find fault with half I say, and +the other half you do not hear at all. You seem to have lost your head, +Tista. Be steady over those acanthus leaves; everybody thinks an +acanthus leaf is the easiest thing in the world, whereas it is one of +the most difficult before you get to figures. Most chisellers seem to +copy their acanthus leaves from the cabbage in their soup. They work as +though they had never seen the plant growing. When the Greeks began to +carve Corinthian capitals, they must have worked from real leaves, as I +taught you to model when you were a boy. Few things are harder than a +good acanthus leaf." + +"I should think women could do the delicate part of our work very well," +said the apprentice, returning to the subject from which Marzio was +evidently trying to lead him. "Lucia has such very clever fingers." + +"Idiot!" muttered Marzio between his teeth, not deigning to make any +further answer. + +The distant boom of a gun broke upon the silence that followed, and +immediately the bells of all the neighbouring churches rang out in quick +succession. It was midday. + +"I did not expect to finish that nose," said Marzio, rising from his +stool. He was a punctual man, who exacted punctuality in others, and in +spite of his thin frame and nervous ways, he loved his dinner. In five +minutes all the men had left the workshop, and Marzio and his apprentice +stood in the street, the former locking the heavy door with a lettered +padlock, while the younger man sniffed the fresh spring air that blew +from the west out of the square of San Carlo a Catenari down the Via dei +Falegnami in which the establishment of the silver-chiseller was +situated. + +As Marzio fumbled with the fastenings of the door, two women came up and +stopped. Marzio had his back turned, and Gianbattista touched his hat in +silence. The younger of the two was a stout, black-haired woman of +eight-and-thirty years, dressed in a costume of dark green cloth, which +fitted very closely to her exuberantly-developed bust, and was somewhat +too elaborately trimmed with imitation of jet and black ribands. A high +bonnet, decorated with a bunch of purple glass grapes and dark green +leaves, surmounted the lady's massive head, and though carefully put on +and neatly tied, seemed too small for the wearer. Her ears were adorned +by long gold earrings, in each of which were three large garnets, and +these trinkets dangled outside and over the riband of the bonnet, which +passed under her chin. In her large hands, covered with tight black +gloves, she carried a dark red parasol and a somewhat shabby little +black leather bag with steel fastenings. The stout lady's face was of +the type common among the Roman women of the lower class--very broad and +heavy, of a creamy white complexion, the upper lip shaded by a dark +fringe of down, and the deep sleepy eyes surmounted by heavy straight +eyebrows. Her hair, brought forward from under her bonnet, made smooth +waves upon her low forehead and reappeared in thick coils at the back of +her neck. Her nose was relatively small, but too thick and broad at the +nostrils, although it departed but little from the straight line of the +classic model. Altogether the Signora Pandolfi, christened Maria Luisa, +and wife to Marzio the silver-chiseller, was a portly and +pompous-looking person, who wore an air of knowing her position, and of +being sure to maintain it. Nevertheless, there was a kindly expression +in her fat face, and if her eyes looked sleepy they did not look +dishonest. + +Signora Pandolfi's companion was her old maid-of-all-work, Assunta, +commonly called Suntarella, without whom she rarely stirred abroad--a +little old woman, in neat but dingy-coloured garments, with a grey +woollen shawl drawn over her head like a cowl, instead of a bonnet. + +Marzio finished fastening the door, and then turned round. On seeing his +wife he remained silent for a moment, looking at her with an expression +of dissatisfied inquiry. He had not expected her. + +"Well?" he ejaculated at last. + +"It is dinner time," remarked the stout lady. + +"Yes, I heard the gun," answered Marzio drily. "It is the same as if you +had told me," he added ironically, as he turned and led the way across +the street. + +"A pretty answer!" exclaimed Maria Luisa, tossing her large head as she +followed her lord and master to the door of their house. Meanwhile +Assunta, the old servant, glanced at Gianbattista, rolled up her eyes +with an air of resignation, and spread out her withered hands for a +moment with a gesture of despair, instantly drawing them in again +beneath the folds of her grey woollen shawl. + +"Gadding!" muttered Marzio, as he entered the narrow door from which the +dark steps led abruptly upwards. "Gadding--always gadding! And who minds +the soup-kettle when you are gadding, I should like to know? The cat, I +suppose! Oh, these women and their priests! These priests and these +women!" + +"Lucia is minding the soup-kettle," gasped Maria Luisa, as she puffed up +stairs behind her thin and active husband. + +"Lucia!" cried Marzio angrily, a flight of steps higher. "I suppose you +will bring her up to be woman of all work? Well, she could earn her +living then, which is more than you do! After all, it is better to mind +a soup-kettle than to thump a piano and to squeal so that I can hear her +in the shop opposite, and it is better than hanging about the church all +the morning, or listening to Paolo's drivelling talk. By all means keep +her in the kitchen." + +It was hard to say whether Signora Pandolfi was puffing or sighing as +she paused for breath upon the landing, but there was probably something +of both in the labour of her lungs. She was used to Marzio. She had +lived with him for twenty years, and she knew his moods and his ways, +and detected the coming storm from afar. Unfortunately, or perhaps +fortunately, for her, there was little variety in the sequence of his +ideas. She was accustomed to his beginning at the grumbling stage before +dinner, and proceeding by a crescendo movement to the pitch of rage, +which was rarely reached until he had finished his meal, when he +generally seized his hat and dragged Gianbattista away with him, +declaring loudly that women were not fit for human society. The daily +excitement of this comedy had long lost its power to elicit anything +more than a sigh from the stout Maria Luisa, who generally bore Marzio's +unreasonable anger with considerable equanimity, waiting for his +departure to eat her boiled beef and salad in peace with Lucia, while +old Assunta sat by the table with the cat in her lap, putting in a word +of commiseration alternately with a word of gossip about the lodgers on +the other side of the landing. The latter were a young and happy pair: +the husband, a chorus singer at the Apollo, who worked at glove cleaning +during the day time; his wife, a sempstress, who did repairs upon the +costumes of the theatre. Their apartments consisted of two rooms and a +kitchen, while Marzio and his family occupied the rest of the floor, and +entered their lodging by the opposite door. + +Maria Luisa envied the couple in her sleepy fashion. Her husband was +indeed comparatively rich, and though economical in his domestic +arrangements, he had money in the bank enough to keep him comfortably +for the rest of his days. His violence did not extend beyond words and +black looks, and he was not miserly about a few francs for dress, or a +dinner at the Falcone two or three times a year. But in the matter of +domestic peace his conduct left much to be desired. He was a sober man, +but his hours were irregular, for he attended the meetings of a certain +club which Maria Luisa held in abhorrence, and brought back opinions +which made her cross herself with her fat fingers, shuddering at the +things he said. As for Gianbattista Bordogni, who lived with them, and +consequently received most of his wages in the shape of board and +lodging, he loved Lucia Pandolfi, his master's daughter, and though he +shared Marzio's opinions, he held his tongue in the house. He understood +how necessary to him the mother's sympathy must be, and, with subtle +intelligence, he knew how to create a contrast between himself and his +master by being reticent at the right moment. + +Lucia opened the door in answer to the bell her father had rung, and +stood aside in the narrow way to let members of the household pass by, +one by one. Lucia was seventeen years old, and probably resembled her +mother as the latter had looked at the same age. She was slight, and +tall, and dark, with a quantity of glossy black hair coiled behind her +head. Her black eyes had not yet acquired that sleepy look which +advancing life and stoutness had put into her mother's, as a sort of +sign of the difficulty of quick motion. Her figure was lithe, though she +was not a very active girl, and one might have predicted that at forty +she, too, would pay her debt to time in pounds of flesh. There are thin +people who look as though they could never grow stout, and there are +others whose leisurely motion and deliberate step foretells increase of +weight. But Gianbattista had not studied these matters of physiological +horoscopy. It sufficed him that Lucia Pandolfi was at present a very +pretty girl, even beautiful, according to some standards. Her thick +hair, low forehead, straight classic features, and severe mouth +fascinated the handsome apprentice, and the intimacy which had developed +between the two during the years of his residence under Marzio's roof, +from the time when Lucia was a little girl to the present day, had +rendered the transition from friendship to love almost imperceptible to +them both. Gianbattista was the last of the party to enter the lodging, +and as he paused to shut the door, Lucia was still lingering at the +threshold. + +"Hist! They will see!" she protested under her breath. + +"What do I care!" whispered the apprentice, as he kissed her cheek in +the dusky passage. Then they followed the rest. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +That evening Marzio finished the last cherub's head on the ewer before +he left the shop. He had sent Gianbattista home, and had dismissed the +men who were working at a huge gilded grating ordered by a Roman prince +for a church he was decorating. Marzio worked on by the light of a +strong lamp until the features were all finished and he had indicated +the pupils of the eyes with the fine-pointed punch. Then he sat some +time at his bench with the beautiful piece of workmanship under his +fingers, looking hard at it and straining his eyes to find imperfections +that did not exist. At last he laid it down tenderly upon the stuffed +leather pad and stared at the green shade of the lamp, deep in thought. + +The man's nature was in eternal conflict with itself, and he felt as +though he were the battle-ground of forces he could neither understand +nor control. A true artist in feeling, in the profound cultivation of +his tastes, in the laborious patience with which he executed his +designs, there was an element in his character and mind which was in +direct contradiction with the essence of what art is. If art can be said +to depend upon anything except itself, that something is religion. The +arts began in religious surroundings, in treating religious subjects, +and the history of the world from the time of the early Egyptians has +shown that where genius has lost faith in the supernatural, its efforts +to produce great works of lasting beauty in the sensual and material +atmosphere of another century have produced comparatively insignificant +results. The science of silver-chiselling began, so far as this age is +concerned, in the church. The tastes of Francis the First directed the +attention of the masters of the art to the making of ornaments for his +mistresses, and for a time the men who had made chalices for the Vatican +succeeded in making jewelry for Madame de Chateaubriand, Madame +d'Etampes, and Diane de Poitiers. But the art itself remained in the +church, and the marvels of _repoussé_ gold and silver to be seen in the +church of Notre Dame des Victoires, the masterpieces of Ossani of Rome, +could not have been produced by any goldsmith who made jewelry for a +living. + +Marzio Pandolfi knew all this better than any one, and he could no more +have separated himself from his passion for making chalices and +crucifixes than he could have changed the height of his stature or the +colour of his eyes. But at the same time he hated the church, the +priests, and every one who was to use the beautiful things over which he +spent so much time and labour. Had he been indifferent, a careless, +good-natured sceptic, he would have been a bad artist. As it was, the +very violence of his hatred lent spirit and vigour to his eye and hand. +He was willing to work upon the figure, perfecting every detail of +expression, until he fancied he could feel and see the silver limbs of +the dead Christ suffering upon the cross under the diabolical skill of +his long fingers. The monstrous horror of the thought made him work +marvels, and the fancied realisation of an idea that would startle even +a hardened unbeliever, lent a feverish impulse to this strange man's +genius. + +As for the angels on the chalices, he did not hate them; on the +contrary, he saw in them the reflection of those vague images of +loveliness and innocence which haunt every artist's soul at times, and +the mere manual skill necessary to produce expression in things so +minute, fascinated a mind accustomed to cope with difficulties, and so +inured to them as almost to love them. + +Nevertheless, when a man is constantly a prey to strong emotions, his +nature cannot long remain unchanged. The conviction had been growing in +Marzio's mind that it was his duty, for the sake of consistency, to +abandon his trade. The thought saddened him, but the conclusion seemed +inevitable. It was absurd, he repeated to himself, that one who hated +the priests should work for them. Marzio was a fanatic in his theories, +but he had something of the artist's simplicity in his idea of the way +they should be carried out. He would have thought it no harm to kill a +priest, but it seemed to him contemptible to receive a priest's money +for providing the church with vessels which were to serve in a worship +he despised. + +Moreover, he was not poor. Indeed, he was richer than any one knew, and +the large sums paid for his matchless work went straight from the +workshop to the bank, while Marzio continued to live in the simple +lodgings to which he had first brought home his wife, eighteen years +before, when he was but a young partner in the establishment he now +owned. As he sat at the bench, looking from his silver ewer to the green +lampshade, he was asking himself whether he should not give up this life +of working for people he hated and launch into that larger work of +political agitation, for which he fancied himself so well fitted. He +looked forward into an imaginary future, and saw himself declaiming in +the Chambers against all that existed, rousing the passions of a +multitude to acts of destruction--of justice, as he called it in his +thoughts--and leading a vast army of angry men up the steps of the +Capitol to proclaim himself the champion of the rights of man against +the rights of kings. His eyelids contracted and the concentrated light +of his eyes was reduced to two tiny bright specks in the midst of the +pupils; his nervous hand went out and the fingers clutched the jaws of +the iron vice beside him as he would have wished to grapple with the +jaws of the beast oppression, which in his dreams seemed ever tormenting +the poor world in which he lived. + +There was something lacking in his face, even in that moment of secret +rage as he sat alone in his workroom before the lamp. There was the +frenzy of the fanatic, the exaltation of the dreamer, clearly expressed +upon his features, but there was something wanting. There was everything +there except the force to accomplish, the initiative which oversteps the +bank of words, threats, and angry thoughts, and plunges boldly into the +stream, ready to sacrifice itself to lead others. The look of power, of +stern determination, which is never absent from the faces of men who +change their times, was not visible in the thin dark countenance of the +silver-chiseller. Marzio was destined never to rise above the common +howling mob which he aspired to lead. + +This fact asserted itself outwardly as he sat there. After a few minutes +the features relaxed, a smile that was almost weak--the smile that shows +that a man lacks absolute confidence--passed quickly over his face, the +light in his eyes went out, and he rose from his stool with a short, +dissatisfied sigh, which was repeated once or twice as he put away his +work and arranged his tools. He made the rounds of the workshop, looked +to the fastenings of the windows, lighted a taper, and then extinguished +the lamp. He threw a loose overcoat over his shoulders without passing +his arms through the sleeves, and went out into the street. Glancing up +at the windows of his house opposite, he saw that the lights were +burning brightly, and he guessed that his wife and daughter were waiting +for him before sitting down to supper. + +"Let them wait," he muttered with a surly grin, as he put out the taper +and went down the street in the opposite direction. + +He turned the street corner by the dark Palazzo Antici Mattei, and +threaded the narrow streets towards the Pantheon and the Piazza Sant' +Eustachio. The weather had changed, and the damp south-east wind was +blowing fiercely behind him. The pavement was wet and slippery with the +strange thin coating of greasy mud which sometimes appears suddenly in +Rome even when it has not rained. The insufficient gas lamps flickered +in the wind as though they would go out, and the few pedestrians who +hurried along clung closely to the wall as though it offered them some +protection from the moist scirocco. The great doors of the palaces were +most of them closed, but here and there a little red light announced a +wine-shop, and as Marzio passed by he could see through the dirty panes +of glass dark figures sitting in a murky atmosphere over bottles of +coarse wine. The streets were foul with the nauseous smell of decaying +vegetables and damp walls which the south-east wind brings out of the +older parts of Rome, and while few voices were heard in the thick air, +the clatter of horses' hoofs on the wet stones rattled loudly from the +thoroughfares which lead to the theatres. It was a dismal night, but +Marzio Pandolfi felt that his temper was in tune with the weather as he +tramped along towards the Pantheon. + +The streets widened as he neared his destination, and he drew his +overcoat more closely about his neck. Presently he reached a small door +close to Sant' Eustachio, one of the several entrances to the ancient +Falcone, an inn which has existed for centuries upon the same spot, in +the same house, and which affords a rather singular variety of +accommodation. Down stairs, upon the square, is a modern restaurant with +plate-glass windows, marble floor, Vienna cane chairs, and a general +appearance of luxury. A flight of steps leads to an upper story, where +there are numerous rooms of every shape and dimension, furnished with +old-fashioned Italian simplicity, though with considerable cleanliness. +Thither resort the large companies of regular guests who have eaten +their meals there during most of their lives. But there is much more +room in the house than appears. The vast kitchen on the ground floor +terminates in a large space, heavily vaulted and lighted by oil lamps, +where rougher tables are set and spread, and where you may see the +well-to-do wine-carter eating his supper after his journey across the +Campagna, in company with some of his city acquaintances of a similar +class. In dark corners huge wine-casks present their round dusty faces +to the doubtful light, the smell of the kitchen pervades everything, +tempered by the smell of wine from the neighbouring cellars; the floor +is of rough stone worn by generations of cooks, potboys, and guests. +Beyond this again a short flight of steps leads to a narrow doorway, +passing through which one enters the last and most retired chamber of +the huge inn. Here there is barely room for a dozen persons, and when +all the places are full the bottles and dishes are passed from the door +by the guests themselves over each other's heads, for there is no room +to move about in the narrow space. The walls are whitewashed and the +tables are as plain as the chairs, but the food and drink that are +consumed there are the best that the house affords, and the society, +from the point of view of Marzio Pandolfi and his friends, is of the +most agreeable. + +The chiseller took his favourite seat in the corner furthest from the +window. Two or three men of widely different types were already at the +table, and Marzio exchanged a friendly nod with each. One was a florid +man of large proportions, dressed in the height of the fashion and with +scrupulous neatness. He was a jeweller. Another, a lawyer with a keen +and anxious face, wore a tightly-buttoned frock coat and a black tie. +Immense starched cuffs covered his bony hands and part of his fingers. +He was supping on a salad, into which he from time to time poured an +additional dose of vinegar. A third man, with a round hat on one side of +his head, and who wore a very light-coloured overcoat, displaying a +purple scarf with a showy pin at the neck, held a newspaper in one hand +and a fork in the other, with which he slowly ate mouthfuls of a ragout +of wild boar. He was a journalist on the staff of an advanced radical +paper. + +"Halloa, Sor Marzio!" cried this last guest, suddenly looking up from +the sheet he was reading, "here is news of your brother." + +"What?" asked Marzio briefly, but as though the matter were utterly +indifferent to him. "Has he killed anybody, the assassin?" The +journalist laughed hoarsely at the jest. + +"Not so bad as that," he answered. "He is getting advancement. They are +going to make him a canon of Santa Maria Maggiore. It is in the +_Osservatore Romano_ of this evening." + +"He is good for nothing else," growled Marzio. "It is just like him not +to have told me anything about it." + +"With the sympathy which exists between you, I am surprised," said the +journalist. "After all, you might convert him, and then he would be +useful. He will be an archdeacon next, and then a bishop--who +knows?--perhaps a cardinal!" + +"You might as well talk of converting the horses on Monte Cavallo as of +making Paolo change his mind," replied Pandolfi, beginning to sip the +white wine he had ordered. "You don't know him--he is an angel, my +brother! Oh, quite an angel! I wish somebody would send him to heaven, +where he is so anxious to be!" + +"Look out, Marzio!" exclaimed the lawyer, glancing from the vinegar +cruet towards the door and then at his friend. + +"No such luck," returned the chiseller. "Nothing ever happens to those +black-birds. When we get as far as hanging them, my dear brother will +happen to be in Paris instead of in Rome. You might as well try to catch +a street cat by calling to it _micio, micio_! as try and catch a priest. +You may as well expect to kill a mule by kicking it as one of those +animals, Burn the Vatican over their heads and think you have destroyed +them like a wasps' nest, they will write you a letter from Berlin the +next day saying that they are alive and well, and that Prince Bismarck +protests against your proceedings." + +"Bravo, Sor Marzio!" cried the journalist. "I will put that in the paper +to-morrow--it is a fine fulmination. You always refresh my ideas--why +will you not write an article for us in that strain? I will publish it +as coming from a priest who has given up his orders, married, and opened +a wine-shop in Naples. What an effect! Magnificent! Do go on!" + +Marzio did not need a second invitation to proceed upon his favourite +topic. He was soon launched, and as the little room filled, his pale and +sunken cheeks grew red with excitement, his tongue was unloosed, and he +poured out a continuous stream of blasphemous ribaldry such as would +have shocked the ears of a revolutionist of the year '89 or of a +_pétroleuse_ of the nineteenth century. It seemed as though the spring +once opened would never dry. His eyes flashed, his fingers writhed +convulsively on the table, and his voice rang out, ironical and cutting, +with strange intonations that roused strange feelings in his hearers. It +was the old subject, but he found something new to say upon it at each +meeting with his friends, and they wondered where he got the imagination +to construct his telling phrases and specious, virulent arguments. + +We have all wondered at such men. They are the outcome of this age and +of no previous time, as it is also to be hoped that their like may not +arise hereafter. They are found everywhere, these agitators, with their +excited faces, their nervous utterances, and their furious hatred of all +that is. They find their way into the parliaments of the world, into the +dining-rooms of the rich, into the wine-shops of the working men, into +the press even, and some of their works are published by great houses +and read by great ladies, if not by great men. Suddenly, when we least +expect it, a flaming advertisement announces a fiery tirade against all +that the great mass of mankind hold in honour, if not in reverence. +Curiosity drives thousands to read what is an insult to humanity, and +even though the many are disgusted, some few are found to admire a +rhetoric which exalts their own ignorance to the right of judging God. +And still the few increase and grow to be a root and send out shoots and +creepers like an evil plant, so that grave men say among themselves that +if there is to be a universal war in our times or hereafter it will be +fought by Christians of all denominations defending themselves against +those who are not Christians. + +Marzio sat long at his table, and his modest pint of wine was enough to +moisten his throat throughout the time during which he held forth. When +the liquor was finished he rose, took down his overcoat from the peg on +which it hung, pushed his soft hat over his eyes, and with a sort of +triumphant wave of the hand, saluted his friends and left the room. He +was a perfectly sober man, and no power would have induced him to +overstep the narrow limit he allowed to his taste. Indeed, he did not +care for wine itself, and still less for any excitement it produced in +his brain. He ordered his half-litre as a matter of respect for the +house, as he called it, and it served to wet his throat while he was +talking. Water would have done as well. Consumed by the intensity of his +hatred for the things he attacked, he needed no stimulant to increase +his exaltation. + +When he was gone, there was silence in the room for some few minutes. +Then the journalist burst into a loud laugh. + +"If we only had half a dozen fellows like that in the Chambers, all +talking at once!" he cried. + +"They would be kicked into the middle of Montecitorio in a quarter of an +hour," answered the thin voice of the lawyer. "Our friend Marzio is +slightly mad, but he is a good fellow in theory. In practice that sort +of thing must be dropped into public life a little at a time, as one +drops vinegar into a salad, on each leaf. If you don't, all the vinegar +goes to the bottom together, and smells horribly sour." + +While Marzio was holding forth to his friends, the family circle in the +Via dei Falegnami was enjoying a very pleasant evening in his absence. +The Signora Pandolfi presided at supper in a costume which lacked +elegance, but ensured comfort--the traditional skirt and white cotton +jacket of the Italian housewife. Lucia wore the same kind of dress, but +with less direful effects upon her appearance. Gianbattista, as usual +after working hours, was arrayed in clothes of fashionable cut, aiming +at a distant imitation of the imaginary but traditional English tourist. +A murderous collar supported his round young chin, and a very +stiffly-constructed pasteboard-lined tie was adorned by an exquisite +silver pin of his own workmanship--the only artistic thing about him. + +Besides these members of the family, there was a fourth person at +supper, the person whom, of all others, Marzio detested, Paolo Pandolfi, +his brother the priest, commonly called Don Paolo. He deserves a word of +description, for there was in his face a fleeting resemblance to Marzio, +which might easily have led a stranger to believe that there was a +similarity between their characters. Tall, like his brother, the priest +was a little less thin, and evidently far less nervous. The expression +of his face was thoughtful, and the deep, heavily-ringed eyes were like +Marzio's, but the forehead was broader, and the breadth ascended higher +in the skull, which was clearly defined by the short, closely-cropped +hair and the smooth tonsure at the back. The nose was larger and of more +noble shape, and Paolo's complexion was less yellow than his brother's; +the features were not surrounded by furrows or lines, and the leanness +of the priest's face threw them into relief. The clean shaven upper lip +showed a kind and quiet mouth, which smiled easily and betrayed a sense +of humour, but was entirely free from any suggestion of cruelty. Don +Paolo was scrupulous of his appearance, and his cassock and mantle were +carefully brushed, and his white collar was immaculately clean. His +hands were of the student type--white, square at the tips, lean, and +somewhat knotty. + +Marzio, in his ill-humour, had no doubt flattered himself that his +family would wait for him for supper. But his family had studied him and +knew his ways. When he was not punctual, he seldom came at all, and a +quarter of an hour was considered sufficient to decide the matter. + +"What are we waiting to do?" exclaimed Maria Luisa, in the odd Italian +idiom. "Marzio is in his humours--he must have gone to his friends. Ah! +those friends of his!" she sighed. "Let us sit down to supper," she +added; and, from her tone, the idea of supper seemed to console her for +her husband's absence. + +"Perhaps he guessed that I was coming," remarked Don Paolo, with a +smile. "In that case he will be a little nervous with me when he comes +back. With your leave, Maria Luisa," he added, by way of announcing that +he would say grace. He gave the short Latin benediction, during which +Gianbattista never looked away from Lucia's face. The boy fancied she +was never so beautiful as when she stood with her hands folded and her +eyes cast down. + +"Marzio does not know what I have come for," began Don Paolo again, as +they all sat down to the square table in the little room. "If he knew, +perhaps he might have been here--though perhaps he would not care very +much after all. You all ask what it is? Yes; I will tell you. His +Eminence has obtained for me the canonry that was vacant at Santa Maria +Maggiore--" + +At this announcement everybody sprang up and embraced Don Paolo, and +overwhelmed him with congratulations, reproaching him at the same time +for having kept the news so long to himself. + +"Of course, I shall continue to work with the Cardinal," said the +priest, when the family gave him time to speak. "But it is a great +honour. I have other news for Marzio--" + +"I imagine that you did not count upon the canonry as a means of +pleasing him," remarked the Signora, Pandolfi, with a smile. + +"No, indeed," laughed Lucia. "Poor papa--he would rather see you sent to +be a curate in Cività Lavinia!" + +"Dear me! I fear so," answered Don Paolo, with a shade of sadness. "But +I have a commission for him. The Cardinal has ordered another crucifix, +which he desires should be Marzio's masterpiece--silver, of course, and +large. It must be altogether the finest thing he has ever made, when it +is finished." + +"I daresay he will be very much pleased," said Maria Luisa, smiling +comfortably. + +"I wish he could make the figure solid, cast and chiselled, instead of +_repoussé_," remarked Gianbattista, whose powerful hands craved heavy +work by instinct. + +"It would be a pity to waste so much silver; and besides, the effects +are never so light," said Lucia, who, like most artists' daughters, knew +something of her father's work. + +"What is a little silver, more or less, to the Cardinal?" asked +Gianbattista, with a little scorn; but as he met the priest's eye his +expression instantly became grave. + +The apprentice was very young; he was not beyond that age at which, to +certain natures, it seems a fine thing to be numbered among such men as +Marzio's friends. But at the same time he was not old enough, nor +independent enough, to exhibit his feelings on all occasions. Don Paolo +exercised a dominant influence in the Pandolfi household. He had the +advantage of being calm, grave, and thoroughly in earnest, not easily +ruffled nor roused to anger, any more than he was easily hurt. By +character sensitive, he bore all small attacks upon himself with the +equanimity of a man who believes his cause to be above the need of +defence against little enemies. The result was that he dominated his +brother's family, and even Marzio himself was not free from a certain +subjection which he felt, and which was one of the most bitter elements +in his existence. Don Paolo imposed respect by his quiet dignity, while +Marzio asserted himself by speaking loudly and working himself +voluntarily into a state of half-assumed anger. In the contest between +quiet force and noisy self-assertion the issue is never doubtful. Marzio +lacked real power, and he felt it. He could command attention among the +circle of his associates who already sympathised with his views, but in +the presence of Paolo he was conscious of struggling against a superior +and incomprehensible obstacle, against the cool and unresentful +disapprobation of a man stronger than himself. It was many years since +he had ventured to talk before his brother as he talked when he was +alone with Gianbattista, and the latter saw the change that came over +his master's manner before the priest, and guessed that Marzio was +morally afraid. The somewhat scornful allusion to the Cardinal's +supposed wealth certainly did not constitute an attack upon Don Paolo, +but Gianbattista nevertheless felt that he had said something rather +foolish, and made haste to ignore his words. The influence could not be +escaped. + +It was this subtle power that Marzio resented, for he saw that it was +exerted continually, both upon himself and the members of his household. +The chiseller acknowledged to himself that in a great emergency his +wife, his daughter, and even Gianbattista Bordogni, would most likely +follow the advice of Don Paolo, in spite of his own protests and +arguments to the contrary. He fancied that he himself alone was a free +agent. He doubted Gianbattista, and began to think that the boy's +character would turn out a failure. This was the reason why he no longer +encouraged the idea of a marriage between his daughter and his +apprentice, a scheme which, somewhat earlier, had been freely discussed. +It had seemed an admirable arrangement. The young man promised to turn +out a freethinker after Marzio's own heart, and showed a talent for his +profession which left nothing to be desired. Some one must be ready to +take Marzio's place in the direction of the establishment, and no one +could be better fitted to undertake the task than Gianbattista. Lucia +would inherit her father's money as the capital for the business, and +her husband should inherit the workshop with all the stock-in-trade. +Latterly, however, Marzio had changed his mind, and the idea no longer +seemed so satisfactory to him as at first. Gianbattista was evidently +falling under the influence of Don Paolo, and that was a sufficient +reason for breaking off the match. Marzio hardly realised that as far as +his outward deportment in the presence of the priest was concerned, the +apprentice was only following his master's example. + +Marzio had been looking about him for another husband for his daughter, +and he had actually selected one from among his most intimate friends. +His choice had fallen upon the thin lawyer--by name Gasparo +Carnesecchi--who, according to the chiseller's views, was in all +respects a most excellent match. A true freethinker, a practising lawyer +with a considerable acquaintance in the world of politics, a discreet +man not far from forty years of age, it seemed as though nothing more +were required to make a model husband. Marzio knew very well that +Lucia's dowry would alone have sufficed to decide the lawyer to marry +her, and an interview with Carnesecchi had almost decided the matter. Of +course, he had not been able to allude to the affair this evening at the +inn, when so many others were present, but the preliminaries were +nearly settled, and Marzio had made up his mind to announce his +intention to his family at once. He knew well enough what a storm he +would raise, and, like many men who are always trying to seem stronger +than they really are, he had determined to choose a moment for making +the disclosure when he should be in a thoroughly bad humour. As he +walked homewards from the old inn he felt that this moment had arrived. +The slimy pavement, the moist wind driving through the streets and round +every corner, penetrating to the very joints, contributed to make him +feel thoroughly vicious and disagreeable; and the tirade in which he had +been indulging before his audience of friends had loosed his tongue, +until he was conscious of being able to face any domestic disturbance or +opposition. + +The little party had adjourned from supper, and had been sitting for +some time in the small room which served as a place of meeting. +Gianbattista was smoking a cigarette, which he judged to be more in +keeping with his appearance than a pipe when he was dressed in civilised +garments, and he was drawing an elaborate ornament of arabesques upon a +broad sheet of paper fixed on a board. Lucia seated at the table was +watching the work, while Don Paolo sat in a straight-backed chair, his +white hands folded on his knee, from time to time addressing a remark +to Maria Luisa. The latter, being too stout to recline in the deep +easy-chair near the empty fireplace, sat bolt upright, with her feet +upon the edge of a footstool, which was covered by a tapestry of +worsted-work, displaying an impossible nosegay upon a vivid green +ground. + +They had discussed the priest's canonry, and the order for the crucifix. +They had talked about the weather. They had made some remarks upon +Marzio's probable disposition of mind when he should come home, and the +conversation was exhausted so far as the two older members were +concerned. Gianbattista and Lucia conversed in a low tone, in short, +enigmatic phrases. + +"Do you know?" said the apprentice. + +"What?" inquired Lucia. + +"I have spoken of it to-day." Both glanced at the Signora Pandolfi. She +was sitting up as straight as ever, but her heavy head was slowly +bending forward. + +"Well?" asked the young girl + +"He was in a diabolical humour. He said I might take you away." +Gianbattista smiled as he spoke, and looked into Lucia's eyes. She +returned his gaze rather sadly, and only shook her head and shrugged her +shoulders for a reply. + +"If we took him at his word," suggested Gianbattista. + +"Just so--it would be a fine affair!" exclaimed Lucia ironically. + +"After all, he said so," argued the young man. "What does it matter +whether he meant it?" + +"Things are going badly for us," sighed his companion. "It was different +a year ago. You must have done something to displease him, Tista. I wish +I knew!" Her dark eyes suddenly assumed an angry expression, and she +drew in her red lips. + +"Wish you knew what?" inquired the apprentice, in a colder tone. + +"Why he does not think about it as he used to. He never made any +objections until lately. It was almost settled." + +Gianbattista glanced significantly at Don Paolo, shrugged his shoulders, +and went on drawing. + +"What has that to do with it?" asked Lucia impatiently. + +"It is enough for your father that it would please his brother. He would +hate a dog that Don Paolo liked." + +"What nonsense!" exclaimed the girl. "It is something else. Papa sees +something--something that I do not see. He knows his own affairs, and +perhaps he knows yours too, Tista. I have not forgotten the other +evening." + +"I!" ejaculated the young man, looking up angrily. + +"You know very well where I was--at the Circolo Artistico. How do you +dare to think--" + +"Why are you so angry if there is no one else in the case?" asked Lucia, +with a sudden sweetness, which belied the jealous glitter in her eyes. + +"It seems to me that I have a right to be angry. That you should suspect +me after all these years! How many times have I sworn to you that I went +nowhere else?" + +"What is the use of your swearing? You do not believe in anything--why +should you swear? Why should I believe you?" + +"Oh--if you talk like that, I have finished!" answered Gianbattista. +"But there--you are only teasing me. You believe me, just as I believe +you. Besides, as for swearing and believing in something besides +you--who knows? I love you--is not that enough?" + +Lucia's eyes softened as they rested on the young man's face. She knew +he loved her. She only wanted to be told so once more. + +"There is Marzio," said Don Paolo, as a key rattled in the latch of the +outer door. + +"At this hour!" exclaimed the Signora Pandolfi, suddenly waking up and +rubbing her eyes with her fat fingers. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Marzio, having divested himself of his heavy coat and hat, appeared at +the door of the sitting-room. + +Everybody looked at him, as though to discern the signs of his temper, +and no one was perceptibly reassured by the sight of his white face and +frowning forehead. + +"Well, most reverend canon," he began, addressing Don Paolo, "I am in +time to congratulate you, it seems. It was natural that I should be the +last to hear of your advancement, through the papers." + +"Thank you," answered Don Paolo quietly. "I came to tell you the news." + +"You are very considerate," returned Marzio. "I have news also; for you +all." He paused a moment, as though to give greater effect to the +statement he was about to make. "I refer," he continued very slowly, "to +the question of Lucia's marriage." + +"Indeed!" exclaimed the priest. "I am glad if it is to be arranged at +last." + +The other persons in the room held their breath. The young girl blushed +deeply under her white skin, and Gianbattista grew pale as he laid aside +his pencil and shaded his eyes with his hands. The Signora Pandolfi +panted with excitement and trembled visibly as she looked at her +husband. His dark figure stood out strongly from the background of the +shabby blue wall paper, and the petroleum lamp cast deep shadows in the +hollows of his face. + +"Yes," he continued, "I talked yesterday with Gasparo Carnesecchi--you +know, he is the lawyer I always consult. He is a clever fellow and +understands these matters. We talked of the contract; I thought it +better to consult him, you see, and he thinks the affair can be arranged +in a couple of weeks. He is so intelligent. A marvel of astuteness; we +discussed the whole matter, I say, and it is to be concluded as soon as +possible. So now, my children--" + +Gianbattista and Lucia, seated side by side at the table, were looking +into each other's eyes, and as Marzio fixed his gaze upon them, their +hands joined upon the drawing-board, and an expression of happy surprise +overspread their faces. Marzio smiled too, as he paused before +completing the sentence. + +"So that now, my children," he continued, speaking very slowly, "you may +as well leave each other's hands and have done with all this nonsense." + +The lovers looked up suddenly with a puzzled air, supposing that Marzio +was jesting. + +"I am in earnest," he went on. "You see, Tista, that it will not be +proper for you to sit and hold Lucia's hand when she is called Signora +Carnesecchi, so you may as well get used to it." + +For a moment there was a dead silence in the room. Then Lucia and +Gianbattista both sprang to their feet. + +"What!" screamed the young girl in an agony of terror. "Carnesecchi! +what do you mean?" + +"_Infame!_ Wretch!" shouted Gianbattista, beside himself with rage as he +sprang forward to grasp Marzio in his hands. + +But the priest had risen too, and placed himself between the young man +and Marzio to prevent any struggle. "No violence!" he cried in a tone +that dominated the angry voices and the hysterical weeping of Maria +Luisa, who sat rocking herself in her chair. Gianbattista stepped back +and leaned against the wall, choking with anger. Lucia fell back into +her seat and covered her face with her hands. + +"Violence? Who wants violence?" asked Marzio in contemptuous tones. "Do +you suppose I am afraid of Tista? Let him alone, Paolo; let us see +whether he will strike me." + +The priest now turned his back on the apprentice, and confronted Marzio. +He was not pale like the rest, for he was not afraid of the chiseller, +and the generous flush of a righteous indignation mounted to his calm +face. + +"You are mad," he said, meeting his brother's gaze fearlessly. + +"Not in the least," returned Marzio. "Lucia shall marry Gasparo +Carnesecchi at once, or she shall not marry any one; what am I saying? +She shall have no choice. She must and she shall marry the man I have +chosen. What have you to do with it? Have you come here to put yourself +between me and my family? I advise you to be careful. The law protects +me from such interference, and fellows of your cloth are not very +popular at present." + +"The law," answered the priest, controlling his wrath, "protects +children against their parents. The law which you invoke provides that a +father shall not force his daughter to marry against her will, and I +believe that considerable penalties are incurred in such cases." + +"What do you know of law, except how to elude it?" inquired Marzio +defiantly. + +Not half an hour had elapsed since he had been haranguing the admiring +company of his friends, and his words came easily. Moreover, it was a +long time since he had broken through the constraint he felt in Don +Paolo's presence, and the opportunity having presented itself was not to +be lost. + +"Who are you that should teach me?" he repeated, raising his voice to a +strained key and gesticulating fiercely. "You, your very existence is a +lie, and you are the server of lies, and you and your fellow liars would +have created them if they didn't already exist, you love them so. You +live by a fraud, and you want to drag everybody into the comedy you play +every day in your churches, everybody who is fool enough to drop a coin +into your greedy palm! What right have you to talk to men? Do you work? +Do you buy? Do you sell? You are worse than those fine gentlemen who do +nothing because their fathers stole our money, for you live by stealing +it yourselves! And you set yourselves up as judges over an honest man to +tell him what he is to do with his daughter? You fool, you thing in +petticoats, you deceiver of women, you charlatan, you mountebank, go! Go +and perform your antics before your altars, and leave hardworking men +like me to manage their families as they can, and to marry their +daughters to whom they will!" + +Marzio had rolled off his string of invective in such a tone, and so +rapidly, that it had been impossible to interrupt him. The two women +were sobbing bitterly. Gianbattista, pale and breathing hard, looked as +though he would throttle Marzio if he could reach him, and Don Paolo +faced the angry artist, with reddening forehead, folding his arms and +straining his muscles to control himself. When Marzio paused for breath, +the priest answered him with an effort. + +"You may insult me if it pleases you," he said, "it is nothing to me. I +cannot prevent your uttering your senseless blasphemies. I speak to you +of the matter in hand. I tell you simply that in treating these two, who +love each other, as you are treating them, you are doing a thing +unworthy of a man. Moreover, the law protects your daughter, and I will +see that the law does its duty." + +"Oh, to think that I should have such a monster for a husband," groaned +the fat Signora Pandolfi, still rocking herself in her chair, and hardly +able to speak through her sobs. + +"You will do a bad day's work for yourself and your art when you try to +separate us," said Gianbattista between his teeth. + +Marzio laughed hoarsely, and turned his back on the rest, beginning to +fill his pipe at the chimney-piece. Don Paolo heard the apprentice's +words, and understood their meaning. He went and laid his hand on the +young man's shoulder. + +"Do not let us have any threats, Tista," he said quietly. "Sor Marzio +will never do this thing--believe me, he cannot if he would." + +"Go on," cried Marzio, striking a match. "Go on--sow the seeds of +discord, teach them all to disobey me. I am listening, my dear Paolo." + +"All the better, if you are," answered the priest, "for I assure you I +am in earnest. You will have time to consider this thing. I have a +matter of business with you, Marzio. That is what I came for this +evening. If you have done, we will speak of it." + +"Business?" exclaimed Marzio in loud ironical tones. "This is a good +time for talking of business--as good as any other! What is it?" + +"The Cardinal wants another piece of work done, a very fine piece of +work." + +"The Cardinal? I will not make any more chalices for your cardinals. I +am sick of chalices, and monstrances, and such stuff." + +"It is none of those," answered Don Paolo quietly. "The Cardinal wants a +magnificent silver crucifix. Will you undertake it? It must be your +greatest work, if you do it at all." + +"A crucifix?" repeated Marzio, in a changed tone. The angry gleam faded +from his eyes, and a dreamy look came into them as he let the heavy lids +droop a little, and remained silent, apparently lost in thought. The +women ceased sobbing, and watched his altered face, while Gianbattista +sank down into a chair and absently fingered the pencil that had fallen +across the drawing-board. + +"Will you do it?" asked Don Paolo, at last. + +"A crucifix," mused the artist. "Yes, I will make a crucifix. I have +made many, but I have never made one to my mind. Yes, tell the Cardinal +that I will make it for him, if he will give me time." + +"I do not think he will need it in less than three or four months," +answered Don Paolo. + +"Four months--that is not a long time for such a work. But I will try." + +Thereupon Marzio, whose manner had completely changed, puffed at his +pipe until it burned freely, and then approached the table, glancing at +Gianbattista and Lucia as though nothing had happened. He drew the +drawing-board which the apprentice had been using towards him, and, +taking the pencil from the hand of the young man, began sketching heads +on one corner of the paper. + +Don Paolo looked at him gravely. After the words Marzio had spoken, it +had gone against the priest's nature to communicate to him the +commission for the sacred object. He had hesitated a moment, asking +himself whether it was right that such a man should be allowed to do +such work. Then the urgency of the situation, and his knowledge of his +brother's character, had told him that the diversion might avert some +worse catastrophe, and he had quickly made up his mind. Even now he +asked himself whether he had done right. It was a question of theology, +which it would have taken long to analyse, and Don Paolo had other +matters to think of in the present, so he dismissed it from his mind. He +wanted to be gone, and he only stayed a few minutes to see whether +Marzio's mind would change again. He knew his brother well, and he was +sure that no violence was to be feared from him, except in his speech. +Such scenes as he had just witnessed were not uncommon in the Pandolfi +household, and Don Paolo did not believe that any consequence was to be +expected after he had left the house. He only felt that Marzio had been +more than usually unreasonable, and that the artist could not possibly +mean seriously what he had proposed that evening. + +The priest did not indeed think that Gianbattista was altogether good +enough for Lucia. The boy was occasionally a little wild in his speech, +and though he was too much in awe of Don Paolo to repeat before him any +of the opinions he had learned from his master, his manner showed +occasionally that he was inclined to take the side of the latter in most +questions that arose. But the habit of controlling his feelings in order +not to offend the man of the church, and especially in order not to hurt +Lucia's sensitive nature, had begun gradually to change and modify the +young man's character. From having been a devoted admirer of Marzio's +political creed and extreme free thought, Gianbattista had fallen, into +the way of asking questions of the chiseller, to see how he would answer +them; and the answers had not always satisfied him. Side by side with +his increasing skill in his art, which led him to compare himself with +his teacher, there had grown up in the apprentice the habit of comparing +himself with Marzio from the intellectual point of view as well as from +the artistic. The comparison did not appear to him advantageous to the +elder man, as he discovered, in his way of thinking, a lack of logic on +the one hand, and a love of frantic exaggeration on the other, which +tended to throw a doubt upon the whole system of ideas which had +produced these defects. The result was that the young man's mental +position was unbalanced, and he was inclined to return to a more normal +condition of thought. Don Paolo did not know all this, but he saw that +Gianbattista had grown more quiet during the last year, and he hoped +that his marriage with Lucia would complete the change. To see her +thrown into the arms of a man like Gasparo Carnesecchi was more than the +priest's affection for his niece could bear. He hardly believed that +Marzio would seriously think again of the scheme, and he entertained a +hope that the subject would not even be broached for some time to come. + +Marzio continued to draw in silence, and after a few minutes, Don Paolo +rose to take his leave. The chiseller did not look up from his pencil. + +"Good-night, Marzio--let it be a good piece of work," said Paolo. + +"Good-night," growled the artist, his eyes still fixed on the paper. His +brother saluted the rest and left the room to go home to his lonely +lodgings at the top of an old palace, in the first floor of which dwelt +the Cardinal, whom he served as secretary. When he was gone, Lucia rose +silently and went to her room, leaving her father and mother with +Gianbattista. The Signora Pandolfi hesitated as to whether she should +follow her daughter or stay with the two men. Her woman's nature feared +further trouble, and visions of drawn knives rose before her swollen +eyes, so that, after making as though she would rise twice, she finally +remained in her seat, her fat hands resting idly upon her knees, staring +at her husband and Gianbattista. The latter sat gloomily watching the +paper on which his master was drawing. + +"Marzio, you do not mean it?" said Maria Luisa, after a long interval of +silence. The good woman did not possess the gift of tact. + +"Do you not see that I have an idea?" asked her husband crossly, by way +of an answer, as he bent his head over his work. + +"I beg your pardon," said the Signora Pandolfi, in a humble tone, +looking piteously at Gianbattista. The apprentice shook his head, as +though he meant that nothing could be done for the present. Then she +rose slowly, and with a word of good-night as she turned to the door, +she left the room. The two men were alone. + +"Now that nobody hears us, Sor Marzio, what do you mean to do?" asked +Gianbattista in a low voice. Marzio shrugged his shoulders. + +"What I told you," he answered, after a few seconds. "Do you suppose +that rascally priest of a brother has made me change my mind?" + +"No, I did not expect that, but I am not a priest; nor am I a boy to be +turned round your fingers and put off in this way--sent to the wash like +dirty linen. You must answer to me for what you said this evening." + +"Oh, I will answer as much as you please," replied the artist, with an +evil smile. + +"Very well. Why do you want to turn me out, after promising for years +that I should marry Lucia with your full consent when she was old +enough?" + +"Why? because you have turned yourself out, to begin with. Secondly, +because Carnesecchi is a better match for my daughter than a beggarly +chiseller. Thirdly, because I please; and fourthly, because I do not +care a fig whether you like it or not. Are those reasons sufficient or +not?" + +"They may satisfy you," answered Gianbattista. "They leave something to +be desired in the way of logic, in my humble opinion." + +"Since I have told you that I do not care for your opinion--" + +"I will probably find means to make you care for it," retorted the young +man. "Don Paolo is quite right, in the first place, when he tells you +that the thing is simply impossible. Fathers do not compel their +daughters to marry in this century. Will you do me the favour to explain +your first remark a little more clearly? You said I had turned myself +out--how?" + +"You have changed, Tista," said Marzio, leaning back to sharpen his +pencil, and staring at the wall. "You change every day. You are not at +all what you used to be, and you know it. You are going back to the +priests. You fawn on my brother like a dog." + +"You are joking," answered the apprentice. "Of course I would not want +to make trouble in your house by quarrelling with Don Paolo, even if I +disliked him. I do not dislike him. This evening he showed that he is a +much better man than you." + +"Dear Gianbattista," returned Marzio in sour tones, "every word you say +convinces me that I have done right. Besides, I am busy--you see--you +disturb my ideas. If you do not like my house, you can leave it. I will +not keep you. I daresay I can educate another artist before I die. You +are really only fit to swing a censer behind Paolo, or at the heels of +some such animal." + +"Perhaps it would be better to do that than to serve the mass you sing +over your work-bench every day," said Gianbattista. "You are going too +far, Sor Marzio. One may trifle with women and their feelings. You had +better not attempt it with men." + +"Such as you and Paolo? There was once a mule in the Pescheria Vecchia; +when he got half-way through he did not like the smell of the fish, and +he said to his leader, 'I will turn back.' The driver pulled him along. +Then said the mule, 'Do not trifle with me. I will turn round and kick +you.' But there is not room for a mule to turn round in the Pescheria +Vecchia. The mule found it out, and followed the man through the fish +market after all. I hope that is clear? It means that you are a fool." + +"What is the use of bandying words?" cried the apprentice angrily. "I +will offer you a bargain, Sor Marzio. I will give you your choice. +Either I will leave the house, and in that case I will carry off Lucia +and marry her in spite of you. Or else I will stay here--but if Lucia +marries any one else, I will cut your throat. Is that a fair bargain?" + +"Perfectly fair, though I cannot see wherein the bargain consists," +answered Marzio, with a rough laugh. "I prefer that you should stay +here. I will run the risk of being murdered by you, any day, and you may +ran the risk of being sent to the galleys for life, if you choose. You +will be well cared for there, and you can try your chisel on +paving-stones for a change from silver chalices." + +"Never mind what becomes of me afterwards, in that case," said the young +man. "If Lucia is married to some one else, I do not care what happens. +So you have got your warning!" + +"Thank you. If you had remained what you used to be, you might have +married her without further difficulty. But to have you and Lucia and +Maria Luisa and Paolo all conspiring against me from morning till night +is more than I can bear. Good-night, and the devil be with you, you +fool!" + +"_Et cum spiritu tuo_," answered Gianbattista as he left the room. + +When Marzio was alone he returned to the head he was drawing--a head of +wonderful beauty, inclined downwards and towards one side, bearing a +crown of thorns, the eyelids drooped and shaded in death. He glanced at +it with a bitter smile and threw aside the pencil without making another +stroke upon the paper. + +He leaned back, lighted another pipe, and began to reflect upon the +events of the evening. He was glad it was over, for a strange weakness +in his violent nature made it hard for him to face such scenes unless he +were thoroughly roused. Now, however, he was satisfied. For a long time +he had seen with growing distrust the change in Gianbattista's manner, +and in the last words he had spoken to the apprentice he had uttered +what was really in his heart. He was afraid of being altogether +overwhelmed by the majority against him in his own house. He hated Paolo +with his whole soul, and he had hated him all his life. This calm, +obliging brother of his stood between him and all peace of mind. It was +not the least of his grievances that he received most of his commissions +through the priest who was constantly in relation with the cardinal and +rich prelates who were the patrons of his art. The sense of obligation +which he felt was often almost unbearable, and he longed to throw it +off. The man whom he hated for his own sake and despised for his +connection with the church, was daily in his house; at every turn he met +with Paolo's tacit disapprobation or outspoken resistance. For a long +time Paolo had doubted whether the marriage between the two young people +would turn out well, and while he expressed his doubts Marzio had +remained stubborn in his determination. Latterly, and doubtless owing to +the change in Gianbattista's character, Paolo had always spoken of the +marriage with favour. This sufficed at first to rouse Marzio's +suspicions, and ultimately led to his opposing with all his might what +he had so long and so vigorously defended; he resolved to be done with +what he considered a sort of slavery, and at one stroke to free himself +from his brother's influence, and to assure Lucia's future. During +several weeks he had planned the scene which had taken place that +evening, waiting for his opportunity, trying to make sure of being +strong enough to make it effective, and revolving the probable answers +he might expect from the different persons concerned. It had come, and +he was satisfied with the result. + +Marzio Pandolfi's intelligence lacked logic. In its place he possessed +furious enthusiasm, an exaggerated estimate of the value of his social +doctrines, and a whole vocabulary of terms by which to describe the +ideal state after which he hankered. But though he did not possess a +logic of his own, his life was itself the logical result of the +circumstances he had created. As, in the diagram called the +parallelogram of forces, various conflicting powers are seen to act at a +point, producing an inevitable resultant in a fixed line, so in the plan +of Marzio's life, a number of different tendencies all acted at a +centre, in his overstrained intelligence, and continued to push him in a +direction he had not expected to follow, and of which even now he was +far from suspecting the ultimate termination. + +He had never loved his brother, but he had loved his wife with all his +heart. He had begun to love Lucia when she was a child. He had felt a +sort of admiring fondness for Gianbattista Bordogni, and a decided pride +in the progress and the talent of the apprentice. By degrees, as the +prime mover, his hatred for Paolo, gained force, it had absorbed his +affection for Maria Luisa, who, after eighteen years of irreproachable +wifehood, seemed to Marzio to be nothing better than an accomplice and a +spy of his brother's in the domestic warfare. Next, the lingering love +for his child had been eaten up in the same way, and Marzio said to +himself that the girl had joined the enemy, and was no longer worthy of +his confidence. Lastly, the change in Gianbattista's character and ideas +seemed to destroy the last link which bound the chiseller to his family. +Henceforth, his hand was against each one of his household, and he +fancied that they were all banded together against himself. + +Every step had followed as the inevitable consequence of what had gone +before. The brooding and suspicious nature of the artist had persisted +in seeing in each change in himself the blackest treachery in those who +surrounded him. His wife was an implacable enemy, his daughter a spy, +his apprentice a traitor, and as for Paolo himself, Marzio considered +him the blackest of villains. For all this chain of hatreds led +backwards, and was concentrated with tenfold virulence in his great +hatred for his brother. Paolo, in his estimation, was the author of all +the evil, the sole ultimate cause of domestic discord, the arch enemy of +the future, the representative, in Marzio's sweeping condemnation, not +only of the church and of religion, but of that whole fabric of existing +society which the chiseller longed to tear down. + +Marzio's socialism, for so he called it, had one good feature. It was +sincere of its kind, and disinterested. He was not of the common herd, a +lazy vagabond, incapable of continuous work, or of perseverance in any +productive occupation, desiring only to be enriched by impoverishing +others, one of the endless rank and file of Italian republicans, to whom +the word "republic" means nothing but bread without work, and the +liberty which consists in howling blasphemies by day and night in the +public streets. His position was as different from that of a private in +the blackguard battalion as his artistic gifts and his industry were +superior to those of the throng. He had money, he had talent, and he had +been very successful in his occupation. He had nothing to gain by the +revolutions he dreamed of, and he might lose much by any upsetting of +the existing laws of property. He was, therefore, perfectly sincere, so +far as his convictions went, and disinterested to a remarkable degree. +These conditions are often found in the social position of the true +fanatic, who is the more ready to run to the greatest length, because he +entertains no desire to better his own state. Marzio's real weakness lay +in the limited scope of his views, and in a certain timid prudence which +destroyed his power of initiative. He was an economical man, who +distrusted the future; and though such a disposition produces a good +effect in causing a man to save money against the day of misfortune, it +is incompatible with the career of the true enthusiast, who must be +ready to risk everything at any moment. The man who would move other +men, and begin great changes, must have an enormous belief in himself, +an unbounded confidence in his cause, and a large faith in the future, +amounting to the absolute scorn of consequence. + +These greater qualities Marzio did not possess, and through lack of them +the stupendous results of which he was fond of talking had diminished to +a series of domestic quarrels, in which he was not always victorious. +His hatred of the church was practically reduced to the detestation of +his brother, and to an unreasoning jealousy of his brother's influence +in his home. His horror of social distinctions, which speculated freely +upon the destruction of the monarchy, amounted in practice to nothing +more offensive than a somewhat studious rudeness towards the few +strangers of high position who from time to time visited the workshop in +the Via dei Falegnami. In the back room of his inn, Marzio could find +loud and cutting words in which to denounce the Government, the +monarchy, the church, and the superiority of the aristocracy. In real +fact, Marzio took off his hat when he met the king in the street, paid +his taxes with a laudable regularity, and increased the small fortune he +had saved by selling sacred vessels to the priests against whom he +inveighed. Instead of burning the Vatican and hanging the College of +Cardinals to the pillars of the Colonnade, Marzio Pandolfi felt a very +unpleasant sense of constraint in the presence of the only priest with +whom he ever conversed, his brother Paolo. When, on very rare occasions, +he broke out into angry invective, and ventured to heap abuse upon the +calm individual who excited his wrath, he soon experienced the +counter-shock in the shape of a strong conviction that he had injured +his position rather than bettered it, and the melancholy conclusion +forced itself upon him that by abusing Paolo he himself lost influence +in his own house, and not unfrequently called forth the contempt of +those he had sought to terrify. + +The position was galling in the extreme; for, like many artists who are +really remarkable in their profession, Marzio was very vain of his +intellectual superiority in other branches. It may be a question whether +vanity is not essential to any one who is forced to compete in +excellence with other gifted men. Vanity means emptiness, and in the +case of the artist it means that emptiness which craves to be filled +with praise. The artist may doubt his own work, but he is bitterly +disappointed if other people doubt it also. Marzio had his full share of +this kind of vanity, which, as in most cases, extended beyond the sphere +of his art. How often does one hear two or three painters or sculptors +who are gathered together in a studio, laying down the law concerning +Government, society, and the distribution of wealth. And yet, though +they make excellent statues and paint wonderful pictures, there are very +few instances on record of artists having borne any important part in +the political history of their times. Not from any want of a desire to +do so, in many cases, but from the real want of the power; and yet many +of them believe themselves far more able to solve political and social +questions than the men who represent them in the Parliament of their +country, or the persons who by innate superiority of tact have made +themselves the arbiters of society. + +Marzio's vanity suffered terribly, for he realised the wide difference +that existed between his aims and the result actually produced. For this +reason he had determined to bring matters to a point of contention in +his household, in order to assert once and for all the despotic +authority which he believed to be his right. He knew well enough that in +proposing the marriage of Lucia with Carnesecchi, he had hit upon a plan +which Paolo would oppose with all his might. It seemed as though he +could not have selected a question more certain to produce a hot +contention. He had brought forward his proposal boldly, and had not +hesitated to make a most virulent personal attack on his brother when +the latter had shown signs of opposition. And yet, as he sat over his +drawing board, staring at the clouds of smoke that rose from his pipe, +he was unpleasantly conscious that he had not been altogether +victorious, that he had not played the part of the despot to the end, as +he had intended to do, that he had suddenly felt his inferiority to +Paolo's calmness, and that upon hearing of the proposition concerning +the crucifix he had acted as though he had received a bribe to be quiet. +He bit his thin lips as he reflected that all the family must have +supposed his silence from that moment to have been the effect of the +important commission which Paolo had communicated to him; for it seemed +impossible that they should understand the current of his thoughts. + +As he glanced at the head he had drawn he understood himself better than +others had understood him, for he saw on the corner of the paper the +masterly sketch of an ideal Christ he had sought after for years without +ever reaching it. He knew that that ideal had presented itself to his +mind at the very moment when Paolo had proposed the work to him--the +result perhaps, of the excitement under which he laboured at the moment. +From that instant he had been able to think of nothing. He had been +impelled to draw, and the expression of his thought had driven +everything else out of his mind. Paolo had gained a fancied victory by +means of a fancied bribe. Marzio determined to revenge himself for the +unfair advantage his brother had then taken, by showing himself +inflexible in his resolution concerning the marriage. It was but a small +satisfaction to have braved Gianbattista's boyish threats, after having +seemed to accept the bribe of a priest. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +On the following morning, Marzio left the house earlier than usual +Gianbattista had not finished his black coffee, and was not in a humour +to make advances to his master, after the scene of the previous evening. +So he did not move from the table when the chiseller left the room, nor +did he make any remark upon the hour. The door that led to the stairs +had hardly closed after Marzio, when Lucia put her head into the room +where Gianbattista was seated. + +"He is gone," said the young man; "come in, we can talk a few minutes." + +"Tista," began, Lucia, coming forward and laying her fingers on his +curly hair, "what did all that mean last night? Have you understood?" + +"Who understands that lunatic!" exclaimed Gianbattista, passing his arm +round the girl's waist, and drawing her to him. "I only understand one +thing, we must be married as soon as possible and be done with it. Is it +not true, Lucia?" + +"I hope so," answered his companion, with a blush and a sigh. "But I am +so much afraid." + +"Do not be afraid, leave it all to me, I will protect you, my darling," +replied the young man, tapping his breast with the ready gesture of an +Italian, as though to prove his courage. + +"Oh, I am sure of that! But how can it be managed? Of course he cannot +force me to marry Carnesecchi, as Uncle Paolo explained to him. But he +will try, and he is so bad!" + +"Let him try, let him try," repeated Gianbattista. "I made a bargain +with him last night after you had gone to bed. Do you know what I told +him? I told him that I would stay with him, but that if you married any +one but me, I would cut his throat--Sor Marzio's throat, do you +understand?" + +"Oh, Tista!" cried Lucia. "How did you ever have the courage to tell him +such a thing? Besides, you know, you would not do it, would you?" + +"Do not trouble yourself, he saw I was in earnest, and he will think +twice about it. Besides, he said yesterday that I might have you if I +would take you away." + +"A nice thing for a father to say of his daughter!" exclaimed the girl +angrily. "And what did you answer him then, my love?" + +"Oh! I said that I had not the slightest objection to the proceeding. +And then he tried to prove to me that we should starve without him, and +then he swore at me like a Turk. What did it matter? He said I was +changed. By Diana! Any man would change, just for the sake of not being +like him!" + +"How do you mean that you are changed, dear?" asked Lucia anxiously. + +"Who knows? He said I fawned on Don Paolo like a dog, instead of hating +the priests as I used to do. What do you think, love?" + +"I think Uncle Paolo would laugh at the idea," answered the girl, +smiling herself, but rather sadly. "I am afraid you are as bad as ever, +in that way." + +"I am not bad, Lucia. I begin to think I like Don Paolo. He was splendid +last night. Did you see how he stared your father out of countenance, +and then turned him into a lamb with the order for the crucifix? Don +Paolo has a much stronger will than Sor Marzio, and a great deal more +sense. He will make your father change his mind." + +"Of course it would be for the better if we could be married without any +objection, and I am very glad you are growing fond of Uncle Paolo. But I +have seen it for some time. He is so good!" + +"Yes. That is the truth," answered Gianbattista in meditative tone. "He +is too good. It is not natural. And then he has a way of making me feel +it. Now, I would have strangled Sor Marzio last night if your uncle had +not been there, but he prevented me. Of course he was right. Those +people always are. But one hates to be set right by a priest. It is +humiliating!" + +"Well, it is better than not to be set right at all," said Lucia. "You +see, if you had strangled poor papa, it would have been dreadful! Oh, +Tista, promise me that you will not do anything violent! Of course he is +very unkind, I know. But it would be terrible if you were to be angry +and hurt him. You will not, Tista? Tell me you will not?" + +"We shall see; we shall see, my love!" + +"You do not love me if you will not promise." + +"Oh, if that is all, my love, I will promise never to lay a finger on +him until you are actually married to some one else. But then--" +Gianbattista made the gesture which means driving the knife into an +enemy. + +"Then you may do anything you please," answered Lucia, with a laugh. "He +will never make me marry any one but you. You know that, my heart!" + +"In that case we ought to be married very soon," argued the young man. +"We need not live here, you know. Indeed, it would be out of the +question. We will take one of those pretty little places in the new +quarter--" + +"That is so far away," interrupted the girl. + +"Yes, but there is the tramway, and there are omnibuses. It only takes a +quarter of an hour." + +"But you would be so far from me all day, my love. I could not run into +the studio at all hours, and you would not come home for dinner. Oh! I +could not bear it!" + +"Very well, we will try and find something near here," said +Gianbattista, yielding the point. "We will get a little apartment near +the Minerva, where there is sun." + +"And we will have a terrace on the top of the house, with pots of +carnations." + +"And red curtains on rings, that we can draw; it is such a pretty light +when the sun shines through them." + +"And green wall paper with blue furniture," suggested Lucia. "It is so +gay." + +"Or perhaps the furniture of the same colour as the paper--you know they +have it so in all fashionable houses." + +"Well, if it is really the fashion, I suppose we must," assented the +girl rather regretfully. + +"Yes, it is the fashion, my heart, and you must have everything in the +fashion. But I must be going," added the young man, rising from his seat. + +"Already? It is early, Tista--" she hesitated, "Dear Tista," she began +again, her dark eyes resting anxiously on his face, "what will you say +to him in the workshop? You will tell him that I would rather die than +marry Carnesecchi, that we are solemnly promised, that nothing shall +part us! You will make him see reason, Tista, will you not? I cannot go +to him, or I would; and mamma, poor mamma, is so afraid of him when he +is in his humours. There are only you and Uncle Paolo to manage him; and +after the way he insulted Uncle Paolo last night, it will be all the +harder. Think of it, Tista, while you are at work, and bring me word +when you come to dinner." + +"Never fear, love," replied Gianbattista confidently; "what else should +I think of while I am hammering away all day? A little kiss, to give me +courage." + +In a moment he was gone, and his quick step resounded on the stairs as +he ran down, leaving Lucia at the door above, to catch the last good-bye +he called up to her when he reached the bottom. His fresh voice came up +to her mingled with the rattle of the lumbering carts in the street. She +answered the cry and went in. + +Just then the sleepy Signora Pandolfi emerged from her chamber, clad in +the inevitable skirt and white cotton jacket, her heavy black hair +coiled in an irregular mass on the top of her head, and held in place +by hair-pins that seemed to be on the point of dropping out. + +"Ah, Lucia, my darling! Such a night as I have passed!" she moaned, +sinking into a chair beside the table, on which the coffee-pot and the +empty cups were still standing. "Such a night, my dear! I have not +closed an eye. I am sure it is the last judgment! And this scirocco, +too, it is enough to kill one!" + +"Courage, mamma," answered Lucia gaily. "Things are never so bad as they +seem." + +"Oh, that monster, that monster!" groaned the fat lady. "He would make +an angel lose his patience! Imagine, my dear, he insists that you shall +be married in a fortnight, and he has left me money to go and buy things +for your outfit! Oh dear! What are we to do? I shall go mad, my dear, +and you will all have to take me to Santo Spirito! Oh dear! Oh dear! +This scirocco!" + +"I think papa will go mad first," said Lucia. "I never heard of such an +insane proposition in my life. All in a moment too--I think I am to +marry Tista--papa gets into a rage and--_patatunfate!_ a new +husband--like a conjuror's trick, such a comedy! I expected to see the +door open at every minute, Pulcinella walk in and beat everybody with a +blown bladder! But Uncle Paolo did quite as well." + +"Oh, my head!" complained the Signora Pandolfi. "I have not slept a +wink!" + +"And then it was shameful to see the way papa grew quiet and submissive +when Uncle Paolo gave him the order for the crucifix! If it had been +anybody but papa, I should have said that a miracle had been performed. +But poor papa! No--the miracle of the soldi--that is the truth. I would +like to catch sight of the saint who could work a miracle on papa! +Capers, what a saint he would have to be!" + +"Bacchus!" ejaculated Maria Luisa, "San Filippo Neri would be nowhere! +The Holy Father would have to make a saint on purpose to convert that +monster! A saint who should have nothing else to do. Oh, how hot it is! +My head is splitting. What are we to do, Lucia, my heart? Tell me a +little what we are to do--two poor women--all alone--oh dear!" + +"In the first place, it needs courage, mamma," answered Lucia, "and a +cup of coffee. It is still hot, and you have not had any--" + +"Coffee! Who thinks of coffee?" cried the Signora Pandolfi, taking the +cup from her daughter's hands, and drinking the liquid with more +calmness than might have been anticipated. + +"That is right," continued the girl. "Drink, mamma, it will do you good. +And then, and then--let me see. And then you must talk to Suntarella +about the dinner. That old woman has no head--" + +"Dinner!" cried the mother, "who thinks of dinner at such a time? And he +left me the money for the outfit, too! Lucia, my love, I have the +fever--I will go to bed." + +"Eh! What do you suppose? That is a way out of all difficulties," +answered Lucia philosophically. + +"But you cannot go out alone--" + +"I will stay at home in that case." + +"And then he will come to dinner, and ask to see the things--" + +"There will be no things to show him," returned the young girl. + +"Well? And then where should we be?" inquired the Signora Pandolfi. "I +see him, my husband, coming back and finding that nothing has been done! +He would tear his hair! He would kill us! He would bring his broomstick +of a lawyer here to marry you this very afternoon, and what should we +have gained then? It needs judgment, Lucia, my heart--judgment, +judgment!" repeated the fat lady, tapping her forehead. + +"Eh! If you have not enough for two, mamma, I do not know what we shall +do." + +"At the same time, something must be done," mused Maria Luisa. "My head +is positively bursting! We might go out and buy half a dozen +handkerchiefs, just to show him that we have begun. Do you think a few +handkerchiefs would quiet him, my love? You could always use them +afterwards--a dozen would be too many--" + +"Bacchus!" exclaimed Lucia, "I have only one nose." + +"It is a pity," answered her mother rather irrelevantly. "After all, +handkerchiefs are the cheapest things, and if we spread them out, all +six, on the green sofa, they will make a certain effect--these men! One +must deceive them, my child." + +"Suppose we did another thing," began Lucia, looking out of the window. +"We might get some things--in earnest, good things. They will always do +for the wedding with Tista. Meanwhile, papa will of course have to +change his mind, and then it will be all right." + +"What genius!" cried the Signora Pandolfi. "Oh, Lucia! You have found +it! And then we can just step into the workshop on our way--that will +reassure your father." + +"Perhaps, after all, it would be better to go and tell him the truth," +said Lucia, beginning to walk slowly up and down the room. "He must know +it, sooner or later." + +"Are you mad, Lucia?" exclaimed her mother, holding up her hands in +horror. "Just think how he would act if you went and faced him!" + +"Then why not go and find Uncle Paolo?" suggested the girl. "He will +know what is best to be done, and will help us, you may be sure. Of +course, he expected to see us before anything was done in the matter. +But I am not afraid to face papa all alone. Besides, Tista is talking to +him at this very minute. I told him all he was to say, and he has so +much courage!" + +"I wish I had as much," moaned the Signora Pandolfi, lapsing into +hesitation. + +"Come, mamma, I will decide for you," said Lucia. "We will go and find +Uncle Paolo, and we will do exactly as he advises." + +"After all, that is best," assented her mother, rising slowly from her +seat. + +Half an hour later they left the house upon their errand, but they did +not enter the workshop on their way. Indeed, if they had, they would +have been surprised to find that Marzio was not there, and that +Gianbattista was consequently not talking to him as Lucia had supposed. + +When Gianbattista reached the workshop, he was told that Marzio had only +remained five minutes, and had gone away so soon as everybody was at +work. He hesitated a moment, wondering whether he might not go home +again and spend another hour in Lucia's company; but it was not possible +to foretell whether Marzio would be absent during the whole morning, and +Gianbattista decided to remain. Moreover, the peculiar smell of the +studio brought with it the idea of work, and with the idea came the love +of the art, not equal, perhaps, to the love of the woman but more +familiar from the force of habit. + +All men feel such impressions, and most of all those who follow a fixed +calling, and are accustomed to do their work in a certain place every +day. Théophile Gautier confessed in his latter days that he could not +work except in the office of the _Moniteur_--elsewhere, he said, he +missed the smell of the printers' ink, which brought him ideas. Artists +know well the effect of the atmosphere of the studio. Five minutes of +that paint-laden air suffice to make the outer world a mere dream, and +to recall the reality of work. There was an old dressing-gown to which +Thackeray was attached as to a friend, and which he believed +indispensable to composition. Balzac had his oval writing-room, when he +grew rich, and the creamy white colour of the tapestries played a great +part in his thoughts. The blacksmith loves the smoke of the forge and +the fumes of hot iron on the anvil, and the chiseller's fingers burn to +handle the tools that are strewn on the wooden bench. + +Gianbattista stood at the door of the studio, and had he been master +instead of apprentice, he could not have resisted the desire to go to +his place and take up the work he had left on the previous evening. In a +few minutes he was hammering away as busily as though there were no such +thing as marriage in the world, and nothing worth living for but the +chiselling of beautiful arabesques on a silver ewer. His head was bent +over his hands, his eyes followed intently the smallest movements of the +tool he held, he forgot everything else, and became wholly absorbed in +his occupation. + +Nevertheless, much of a chiseller's work is mechanical, and as the +smooth iron ran in and out of the tiny curves under the gentle tap of +the hammer, the young man's thoughts went back to the girl he had left +at the top of the stairs a quarter of an hour earlier; he thought of +her, as he did daily, as his promised wife, and he fell to wondering +when it would be, and how it would be. They often talked of the place in +which they would live, as they had done that morning; and as neither of +them was very imaginative, there was a considerable similarity between +the speculations they indulged in at one time and at another. It was +always to be a snug home, high up, with a terrace, pots of carnations, +and red curtains. Their only difference of opinion concerned the colour +of the walls and furniture. Like most Italians, they had very little +sense of colour, and thought only of having everything gay, as they +called it; that is to say, the upholstery was to be chosen of the most +vivid hues, probably of those horrible tints known as aniline. Italians, +as a rule, and especially those who belong to the same class as the +Pandolfi family, have a strong dislike for the darker and softer tones. +To them anything which is not vivid is sad, melancholy, and depressing +to the senses. Gianbattista saw in his mind's eye a little apartment +after his own heart, and was happy in the idea. But, as he followed the +train of thought, it led him to the comparison of the home to which he +proposed to take his wife with the one in which they now lived under her +father's roof, and suddenly the scene of the previous evening rose +clearly in the young man's imagination. He dropped his hammer, and +stared up at the grated windows. + +He went over the whole incident, and perhaps for the first time realised +its true importance, and all the danger there might be in the future +should Marzio attempt to pursue his plan to the end. Gianbattista had +only once seen the lawyer who was thus suddenly thrust into his place. +He remembered a thin, cadaverous man, in a long and gloomy black coat, +but that was all. He did not recall his voice, nor the expression of his +face; he had only seen him once, and had thought little enough of the +meeting. It seemed altogether impossible, and beyond the bounds of +anything rational, that this stranger should ever really be brought +forward to be Lucia's husband. + +For a moment the whole thing looked like an evil dream, and Gianbattista +smiled as he looked down again at his work. Then the reality of the +occurrence rose up again and confronted him stubbornly. He was not +mistaken, Marzio had actually pronounced those words, and Don Paolo had +sprung forward to prevent Gianbattista from attacking his master then +and there. The young man looked at his work, holding his tools in his +hands, but hesitating to lay the point of the chisel on the silver, as +he hesitated to believe the evidence of his memory. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +Marzio had risen early that morning, as has been said, and had left the +house before any one but Gianbattista was up. He was in reality far from +inclined to drink his coffee in the company of his apprentice, and would +have avoided it, if possible. Nor did he care to meet Lucia until he had +found time and occasion to refresh his anger. His wife was too sleepy to +quarrel, and hardly seemed to understand him when he gave her money and +bade her look to Lucia's outfit, adding that the wedding was to take +place immediately. + +"Will you not let me sleep in peace, even in the morning?" she groaned. + +"Magari! I wish you would sleep, and for ever!" growled Marzio, as he +left the room. + +He drank his coffee in silence, and went out. After looking into the +workshop he walked slowly away in the direction of the Capitol. The damp +morning air was pleasant to him, and the gloomy streets through which he +passed were agreeable to his state of feeling. He wished Home might +always wear such a dismal veil of dampness, scirocco, and cloud. + +A man in a bad humour will go out of his way to be rained upon and blown +against by the weather. We would all like to change our surroundings +with our moods, to fill the world with sunshine when we are happy, and +with clouds when we have stumbled in the labyrinths of life. Lovers wish +that the whole earth might be one garden, crossed and recrossed by +silent moonlit paths; and when love has taken the one and left the +other, he who stays behind would have his garden changed to an angry +ocean, and the sweet moss banks to storm-beaten rocks, that he may drown +in the depths, or be dashed to pieces by the waves, before he has had +time to know all that he has lost. + +As we grow older, life becomes the expression of a mood, according to +the way we have lived. He who seeks peace will find that with advancing +age the peaceful moment, that once came so seldom, returns more readily, +and that at last the moments unite to make hours, and the hours to build +up days and years. He who stoops to petty strife will find that the +oft-recurring quarrel has power to perpetuate the discontented weakness +out of which it springs, and that it can make all life a hell. He who +rejoices in action will learn that activity becomes a habit, and at last +excludes the possibility of rest, and the desire for it; and his lot is +the best, for the momentary gladness in a great deed well done is worth +a millennium of sinless, nerveless tranquillity. The positive good is as +much better than the negative "non-bad," as it is better to save a life +than not to destroy a life. But whatever temper of mind we choose will +surely become chronic in time, and will be known to those among whom we +live as our temper, our own particular temper, as distinguished from the +tempers of other people. + +Marzio had begun life in a bad humour. He delighted in his imaginary +grievances, and inflicted his anger on all who came near him, only +varying the manifestation of it to suit the position in which he chanced +to find himself. With his wife he was overbearing; with his brother he +was insolent; with his apprentice he was sullen; and with his associates +at the old Falcone he played the demagogue. The reason of these phases +was very simple. His wife could not oppose him, Don Paolo would not +wrangle with him, Gianbattista imposed upon him by his superior calm and +strength of character, and, lastly, his socialist friends applauded him +and nattered his vanity. It is impossible for a weak man to appear +always the same, and his weakness is made the more noticeable when he +affects strength. The sinews of goodness are courage, moral and +physical, a fact which places all really good men and women beyond the +reach of ridicule and above the high-water mark of the world's +contempt. + +Marzio lacked courage, and his virulence boiled most hotly when he had +least to fear for his personal safety. It was owing to this innate +weakness that such a combination of artistic sensitiveness and spasmodic +arrogance was possible. The man's excitable imagination apprehended +opposition where there was none, and his timidity made him fear a +struggle, and hate himself for fearing it. As soon as he was alone, +however, his thoughts generally returned to his art, and found +expression in the delicate execution of the most exquisite fancies. +Under other circumstances his character might have developed in a widely +different way; his talent would still have been the same. There is a +sort of nervous irritability which acts as a stimulant upon the +faculties, and makes them work faster. With Marzio this unnatural state +was chronic, and had become so because he had given himself up to it. It +is a common disease in cities, where a man is forced to associate with +his fellow-men, and to compete with them, whether he is naturally +inclined to do so or not. If Marzio could have exercised his art while +living as a hermit on the top of a lonely mountain he might have been a +much better man. + +He almost understood this himself as he walked slowly through the Via +delle Botteghe Oscure--"the street of dark shops"--in the early +morning. He was thinking of the crucifix he was to make, and the +interest he felt in it made him dread the consequences of the previous +night's domestic wrangling. He wanted to be alone, and at the same time +he wanted to see places and things which should suggest thoughts to him. +He did not care whither he went so long as he kept out of the new Rome. +When he reached the little garden in front of San Marco he paused, +looked at the deep doorway of the church, remembered the barbarous +mosaics within, and turned impatiently into a narrow street on the +right--the beginning of the Via di Marforio. + +The network of by-ways in this place is full of old-time memories. Here +is the Via Giulio Romano, where the painter himself once lived; here is +the Macel dei Corvi, where Michael Angelo once lodged; hard by stood the +statue of Marforio, christened by the mediæval Romans after _Martis +Forum_, and famous as the interlocutor of Pasquino. The place was a +centre of artists and scholars in those days. Many a simple question was +framed here, to fit the two-edged biting answer, repeated from mouth to +mouth, and carefully written down among Pasquino's epigrams. First of +all the low-born Roman hates all that is, and his next thought is to +express his hatred in a stinging satire without being found out. + +Like every real Roman, Marzio thought of old Marforio as he strolled up +the narrow street towards the Capitol, and regretted the lawless days of +conspiracy and treacherous deeds when every man's hand was against his +fellow. He wandered on, his eyes cast down, and his head bent. Some one +jostled against him, walking quickly in the opposite direction. He +looked up and recognised Gasparo Carnesecchi's sallow face and long +nose. + +"Eh! Sor Marzio--is it you?" asked the lawyer. + +"I think so," answered the artist. "Excuse me, I was thinking of +something." + +"No matter. Of what were you thinking, then? Of Pasquino?" + +"Why not? But I was thinking of something else. You are in a hurry, I am +sure. Otherwise we would speak of that affair." + +"I am never in a hurry when there is business to be treated," replied +Carnesecchi, looking down the street and preparing to listen. + +"You know what I mean," Marzio began. "The matter we spoke of two days +ago--my plans for my daughter." + +The lawyer glanced quickly at his friend and assumed an indifferent +expression. He was aware that his position, was socially superior to +that of the silver-chiseller, in spite of Marzio's great talent. But he +knew also that Lucia was to have a dowry, and that she would ultimately +inherit all her father possessed. A dowry covers a multitude of sins in +the eyes of a man to whom money is the chief object in life. +Carnesecchi, therefore, meant to extract as many thousands of francs +from Marzio as should be possible, and prepared himself to bargain. The +matter was by no means settled, in spite of the chiseller's instructions +to his wife concerning the outfit. + +"We must talk," said Carnesecchi. "Not that I should be altogether +averse to coming easily to an understanding, you know. Bat there are +many things to be considered. Let us see." + +"Yes, let us see," assented the other. "My daughter has education. She +is also sufficiently well instructed. She could make a fine marriage. +But then, you see, I desire a serious person for my son-in-law. What +would you have? One must be prudent." + +It is not easy to define exactly what a Roman means by the word +"serious." In some measure it is the opposite of gay, and especially of +what is young and unsettled. The German use of the word Philistine +expresses it very nearly. A certain sober, straitlaced way of looking at +life, which was considered to represent morality in Rome fifty years +ago; a kind of melancholy superiority over all sorts of amusements, +joined with a considerable asceticism and the most rigid economy in the +household--that is what was meant by the word "serious." To-day its +signification has been slightly modified, but a serious man--_un uomo +serio_--still represents to the middle-class father the ideal of the +correct son-in-law. + +"Eh, without prudence!" exclaimed Carnesecchi, elliptically, as though +to ask where he himself would have been had he not possessed prudence in +abundance. + +"Exactly," answered Marzio, biting off the end of a common cigar and +fixing his eyes on the lawyer's thin, keen face. "Precisely. I think--of +course I do not know--but I think that you are a serious man. But then, +I may be mistaken." + +"Well, it is human to err, Sor Marzio. But then, I am no longer of that +age--what shall I say? Everybody knows I am serious. Do I lead the life +of the café? Do I wear out my shoes in Piazza Colonna? Capers! I am a +serious man." + +"Yes," answered Marzio, though with some hesitation, as though he were +prepared to argue even this point with the sallow-faced lawyer. He +struck a match on the gaudy little paper box he carried and began to +smoke thoughtfully. "Let us make a couple of steps," he said at last. + +Both men moved slowly on for a few seconds, and then stopped again. In +Italy "a couple of steps" is taken literally. + +"Let us see," said Carnesecchi. "Let us look at things as they are. In +these days there are many excellent opportunities for investing money." + +"Hum!" grunted Marzio, pulling a long face and looking up under his +eyebrows. "I know that is your opinion, Sor Gasparo. I am sorry that you +should put so much faith in the stability of things. So you, too, have +got the malady of speculation. I suppose you are thinking of building a +Palazzo Carnesecchi out at Sant' Agnese in eight floors and thirty-two +apartments." + +"Yes, I am mad," answered the lawyer ironically. + +"Who knows?" returned the other. "I tell you they are building a Pompeii +in those new quarters. When you and I are old men, crazy Englishmen will +pay two francs to be allowed to wander about the ruins." + +"It may be. I am not thinking of building. In tine first place I have +not the _soldi_." + +"And if you had?" inquired Marzio. + +"What nonsense! Besides, no one has. It is all done on credit, and the +devil take the hindmost. But if I really had a million--eh! I know what +I would do." + +"Let us hear. I also know what I would do. Besta! What is the use of +building castles in the air?" + +"In the air, or not in the air, if I had a million, I know what I would +do." + +"I would have a newspaper," said Marzio. "Whew! how it would sting!" + +"It would sting you, and bleed you into the bargain," returned the +lawyer with some contempt. "No one makes mosey out of newspapers in +these times. If I had money, I would be a deputy. With prudence there is +much to be earned in the Chambers, and petitioners know that they must +pay cash." + +"It is certainly a career," assented the artist "But, as you say, it +needs money for the first investment." + +"Not so much as a million, though. With a good opening, and some +knowledge of the law, a small sum would be enough." + +"It is a career, as I said," repeated Marzio. "But five thousand francs +would not give you an introduction to it." + +"Five thousand francs!" exclaimed Carnesecchi, with a scornful laugh. +"With five thousand francs you had better play at the lottery. After +all, if you lose, it is nothing." + +"It is a great deal of money, Sor Gasparo," replied the chiseller. "When +you have made it little by little--then you know what it means." + +"Perhaps. But we have been standing here more than a quarter of an +hour, and I have a client waiting for me about a big affair, an affair +of millions." + +"Bacchus!" ejaculated Marzio. "You are not in a hurry about the matter. +Well, we can always talk, and I will not keep you." + +"We might walk together, and say what we have to say." + +"I am going to the Capitol," Marzio said, for he had been walking in +that direction when they met. + +"That is my way, too," answered the lawyer, forgetting that he had run +into Marzio as he came down the street. + +"Eh! That is lucky," remarked the artist with an almost imperceptible +smile. "As I was saying," he continued, "five thousand francs is not the +National Bank, but it is a very pretty little sum, especially when there +is something more to be expected in the future." + +"That depends on the future. But I do not call it a sum. Nothing under +twenty thousand is a sum, properly speaking." + +"Who has twenty thousand francs?" laughed Marzio, shrugging his +shoulders with an incredulous look. + +"You talk as though Rome were an asylum for paupers," returned +Carnesecchi. "Who has twenty thousand francs? Why, everybody has. You +have, I have. One must be a beggar not to have that much. After all, we +are talking about business, Sor Marzio. Why should I not say it? I have +always said that I would not marry with less than that for a dowry. Why +should one throw away one's opportunities? To please some one? It is not +my business to try and please everybody. One must be just." + +"Of course. What? Am I not just? But if justice were done, where would +some people be? I say it, too. If you marry my daughter, you will expect +a dowry. Have I denied it? And then, five thousand is not so little. +There is the outfit, too; I have to pay for that." + +"That is not my affair," laughed the lawyer. "That is the business of +the woman. But five thousand francs is not my affair either. Think of +the responsibilities a man incurs when he marries! Five thousand! It is +not even a cup of coffee! You are talking to a _galantuomo_, an honest +man, Sor Marzio. Reflect a little." + +"I reflect--yes! I reflect that you ask a great deal of money, Signer +Carnesecchi," replied Marzio with some irritation. + +"I never heard that anybody gave money unless it was asked for." + +"It will not be for lack of asking if you do not get it," retorted the +artist. + +"What do you mean, Signor Pandolfi?" inquired Carnesecchi, drawing +himself up to his full height and then striking his hollow chest with +his lean hand. "Do you mean that I am begging money of you? Do you mean +to insult an honest man, a _galantuomo_? By heaven, Signor Pandolfi, I +would have you know that Gasparo Carnesecchi never asked a favour of any +man! Do you understand? Let us speak clearly." + +"Who has said anything?" asked Marzio. "Why do you heat yourself in this +way? And then, after all, we shall arrange this affair. You wish it. I +wish it. Why should it not be arranged? If five thousand does not suit +you, name a sum. We are Christians--we will doubtless arrange. But we +must talk. How much should you think, Sor Gasparo?" + +"I have said it. As I told you just now, I have always said that I would +not marry with less than eighteen thousand francs of dowry. What is the +use of repeating? Words are not roasted chestnuts." + +"Nor eighteen thousand francs either," answered the other. "Magari! I +wish they were. You should have them in a moment. But a franc is a +franc." + +"I did not say it was a cabbage," observed Carnesecchi. "After all, why +should I marry?" + +"Perhaps you will not," suggested Marzio, who was encouraged to continue +the negotiations, however, by the diminution in the lawyer's demands. + +"Why not?" asked the latter sharply, "Do you think nobody else has +daughters?"' + +"If it comes to that, why have you not married before?" + +"Because I did not choose to marry," answered Carnesecchi, beginning to +walk more briskly, as though to push the matter to a conclusion. + +Marzio said nothing in reply. He saw that his friend was pressing him, +and understood that, to do so, the lawyer must be anxious to marry +Lucia. The chiseller therefore feigned indifference, and was silent for +some minutes. At the foot of the steps of the Capitol he stopped again. + +"You know, Sor Gasparo," he said, "the reason why I did not arrange +about Lucia's marriage a long time ago, was because I was not +particularly in a hurry to have her married at all. And I am not in a +hurry now, either. We shall have plenty of opportunities of discussing +the matter hereafter. Good-bye, Sor Gasparo. I have business up there, +and that client of yours is perhaps impatient about his millions." + +"Good-bye," answered Carnesecchi. "There is plenty of time, as you say. +Perhaps we may meet this evening at the Falcone." + +"Perhaps," said Marab drily, and turned away. + +He had a good understanding of his friend's character, and though in his +present mood he would have been glad to fix the wedding day, and sign +the marriage contract at once, he had no intention of yielding to +Carnesecchi's exorbitant demands. The lawyer was in need of money, +Marzio thought, and as he himself was the possessor of what the other +coveted, there could be little doubt as to the side on which the +advantage would ultimately be taken. Marzio went half-way up the steps +of the Capitol, and then stopped to look at the two wretched wolves +which the Roman municipality thinks it incumbent on the descendants of +Romulus to support. He thought one of them very like Carnesecchi. He +watched the poor beasts a moment or two as they tramped and swung and +pressed their lean sides against the bars of their narrow cage. + +"What a sympathetic animal it is!" he exclaimed aloud. A passer-by +stared at him and then went on hurriedly, fearing that he might be mad. +Indeed, there was a sort of family likeness between the lawyer, the +chiseller, and the wolves. + +Other thoughts, however, occupied Marzio's attention; and as soon as he +was sure that his friend was out of the way, he descended the steps. He +did not care whither he went, but he had no especial reason for climbing +the steep ascent to the Capitol. The crucifix his brother had ordered +from him on the previous evening engaged his attention, and it was as +much for the sake of being alone and of thinking about the work that he +had taken his solitary morning walk, as with the hope of finding in some +church a suggestion or inspiration which might serve him. He knew what +was to be found in Roman churches well enough; the Crucifixion in the +Trinità dei Pellegrini and the one in San Lorenzo in Lucina--both by +Guido Reni, and both eminently unsympathetic to his conception of the +subject--he had often looked at them, and did not care to see them +again. At last he entered the Church of the Gesù, and sat down upon a +chair in a corner. + +He did not look up. The interior of the building was as familiar to him +as the outside. He sat in profound thought, occasionally twisting his +soft hat in his hands, and then again remaining quite motionless. He did +not know how long he stayed there. The perfect silence was pleasant to +him, and when he rose he felt that the idea he had sought was found, and +could be readily expressed. With a sort of sigh of satisfaction he went +out again into the air and walked quickly towards his workshop. + +The men told him that Gianbattista was busy within, and after glancing +sharply at the work which was proceeding, Marzio opened the inner door +and entered the studio. He strode up to the table and took up the body +of the ewer, which lay on its pad where he had left it the night before. +He held it in his hands for a moment, and then, pushing the leather +cushion towards Gianbattista, laid it down. + +"Finish it," he said shortly; "I have something else to do." + +The apprentice looked up in astonishment, as though he suspected that +Marzio was jesting. + +"I am afraid--" he answered with hesitation. + +"It makes no difference; finish it as best you can; I am sick of it; you +will do it well enough. If it is bad, I will take the responsibility." + +"Do you mean me really to finish it--altogether?" + +"Yes; I tell you I have a great work on hand. I cannot waste my time +over such toys as acanthus leaves and cherubs' eyes!" He bent down and +examined the thing carefully. "You had better lay aside the neck and +take up the body just where I left it, Tista," he continued. "The +scirocco is in your favour. If it turns cold to-morrow the cement may +shrink, and you will have to melt it out again." + +Marzio spoke to him as though there had not been the least difference +between them, as though Gianbattista had not proposed to cut his throat +the night before, as though he himself had not proposed to marry +Carnesecchi to Lucia. + +"Take my place," he said. "The cord is the right length for you, as it +is too short for me. I am going to model." + +Without more words Marzio went and took a large and heavy slate from +the corner, washed it carefully, and dried it with his handkerchief. +Then he provided himself with a bowl full of twisted lengths of red wax, +and with a couple of tools he sat down to his work. Gianbattista, having +changed his seat, looked over the tools his master had been using, with +a workman's keen glance, and, taking up his own hammer, attacked the +task given him. For some time neither of the men spoke. + +"I have been to church," remarked Marzio at last, as he softened a piece +of wax between his fingers before laying it on the slate. The news was +so astounding that Gianbattista uttered an exclamation of surprise. + +"You need not be frightened," answered the artist. "I only went to look +at a picture, and I did not look at it after all. I shall go to a great +many more churches before I have finished this piece of work. You ought +to go to the churches and study, Tista. Everything is useful in our +art--pictures, statues, mosaics, metal-work. Now I believe there is not +a really good crucifix, nor a crucifixion, in Rome. It is strange, too, +I have dreamed of one all my life." + +Gianbattista did not find any answer ready in reply to the statement. +The words sounded so strangely in Marzio's mouth this morning, that the +apprentice was confused. And yet the two had often discussed the subject +before. + +"You do not seem to believe me," continued Marzio quietly. "I assure you +it is a fact. The other things of the kind are not much better either. +Works of art, perhaps, but not satisfactory. Even Michael Angelo's +_Pietà_ in Saint Peter's does not please me. They say it did not please +the people of his time either--he was too young to do anything of that +sort--he was younger than you, Tista, only twenty-four years old when he +made that statue." + +"Yes," answered Gianbattista, "I have heard you say so." He bent over +his work, wondering what his master meant by this declaration of taste. +It seemed as though Marzio felt the awkwardness of the situation and was +exerting himself to make conversation. The idea was so strange that the +apprentice could almost have laughed. Marzio continued to soften the wax +between his fingers, and to lay the pieces of it on the slate, pressing +them roughly into the shape of a figure. + +"Has Paolo been here?" asked the master after another long pause. + +Gianbattista merely shook his head to express a negative. + +"Then he will come," continued Marzio. "He will not leave me in peace +all day, you may be sure." + +"What should he come for? He never comes," said the young man. + +"He will be afraid that I will have Lucia married before supper time. I +know him--and he knows me." + +"If he thinks that, he does not know you at all," answered Gianbattista +quietly. + +"Indeed?" exclaimed Marzio, raising his voice to the ironical tone he +usually affected when any one contradicted him. "To-day, to-morrow, or +the next day, what does it matter? I told you last night that I had made +up my mind." + +"And I told you that I had made up mine." + +"Oh yes--boy's threats! I am not the man to be intimidated by that sort +of thing. Look here, Tista, I am in earnest. I have considered this +matter a long time; I have determined that I will not be browbeaten any +longer by two women and a priest--certainly not by you. If things go on +as they are going, I shall soon not be master in my own house." + +"You would be the only loser," retorted Gianbattista. + +"Have done with this, Tista!" exclaimed Marzio angrily. "I am tired of +your miserable jokes. You have gone over to the enemy, you are Paolo's +man, and if I tolerate you here any longer it is merely because I have +taught you something, and you are worth your wages. As for the way I +have treated you during all these years, I cannot imagine how I could +have been such a fool. I should think anybody might see through your +hypocritical ways." + +"Go on," said Gianbattista calmly. "You know our bargain of last night" + +"I will risk that. If I see any signs of your amiable temper I will have +you arrested for threatening my life. I am not afraid of you, my boy, +but I do not care to die just at present. You have all had your way long +enough, I mean to have mine now." + +"Let us talk reasonably, Sor Marzio. You say we have had our way. You +talk as though you had been in slavery in your own house. I do not think +that is the opinion of your wife, nor of your daughter. As for me, I +have done nothing but execute your orders for years, and if I have +learnt something, it has not been by trying to overrule you or by +disregarding your advice. Two years ago, you almost suggested to me that +I should marry Lucia. Of course, I asked nothing better, and we agreed +to wait until she was old enough. We discussed the matter a thousand +times. We settled the details. I agreed to go on working for the same +small wages instead of leaving you, as I might have done, to seek my +fortune elsewhere. You see I am calm, I acknowledge that I was grateful +to you for having taught me so much, and I am grateful still. You have +just given me another proof of your confidence in putting this work into +my hands to finish. I am grateful for that. Well, we have talked of the +marriage often; I have lived in your house; I have seen Lucia every day, +for you have let us be together as much as we pleased; the result is +that I not only am more anxious to marry her than I was before--I love +her; I am not ashamed to say so. I know you laugh at women and say they +are no better than monkeys with parrots' heads. I differ from you. Lucia +is an angel, and I love her as she loves me. What happens? One day you +take an unreasonable dislike for me, without even warning me of the +fact, and then, suddenly, last night, you come home and say she is to +marry the Avvocato Gasparo Carnesecchi. Now, for a man who has taught me +that there is no God but reason, all this strikes me as very +unreasonable. Honestly, Sor Marzio, do you not think so yourself?" + +Marzio looked at his apprentice and frowned, as though hesitating +whether to lose his temper and launch into the invective style, or to +answer Gianbattista reasonably. Apparently he decided in favour of the +more peaceable course. + +"It is unworthy of a man who follows reason to lose his self-control and +indulge in vain threats," he answered, assuming a grand didactic air. +"You attempt to argue with me. I will show you what argument really +means, and whither it leads. Now answer me some questions, Tista, and I +will prove that you are altogether in the wrong. When a man is devoted +to a great and glorious cause, should he not do everything in his power +to promote its success against those who oppose it?" + +"Undoubtedly," assented Gianbattista. + +"And should not a man be willing to sacrifice his individual preferences +in order to support and to further the great end of his life?" + +"Bacchus! I believe it!" + +"Then how much the more easy must it be for a man to support his cause +when there are no individual preferences in the way!" said Marzio +triumphantly. "That is true reason, my boy. That is the inevitable logic +of the great system." + +"I do not understand the allegory," answered Gianbattista. + +"It is as simple as roasted chestnuts," returned Marzio. "Even if I +liked you, it would be my duty to prevent you from marrying Lucia. As I +do not like you--you understand?" + +"I understand that," replied the young man. "For some reason or other +you hate me. But, apart from the individual preferences, which you say +it is your duty to overcome, I do not see why you are morally obliged +to hinder our marriage, after having felt morally obliged to promote +it?" + +"Because you are a traitor to the cause," cried Marzio, with sudden +fierceness. "Because you are a friend of Paolo. Is not that enough?" + +"Poor Don Paolo seems to stick in your throat," observed Gianbattista. +"I do not see what he has done, except that he prevented me from killing +you last night!" + +"Paolo! Paolo is a snake, a venomous viper! It is his business, his only +aim in life, to destroy my peace, to pervert my daughter from the +wholesome views I have tried to teach her, to turn you aside from the +narrow path of austere Italian virtue, to draw you away from following +in the footsteps of Brutus, of Cassius, of the great Romans, of me, your +teacher and master! That is all Paolo cares for, and it is enough--more +than enough! And he shall pay me for his presumptuous interference, the +villain!" + +Marzio's voice sank into a hissing whisper as he bent over the wax he +was twisting and pressing. Gianbattista glanced at his pale face, and +inwardly wondered at the strange mixture of artistic genius, of +bombastic rhetoric and relentless hatred, all combined in the strange +man whom destiny had given him for a master. He wondered, too, how he +had ever been able to admire the contrasts of virulence and weakness, +of petty hatred and impossible aspirations which had of late revealed +themselves to him in a new light. Have we not most of us assisted at the +breaking of the Image of Baal, at the destruction of an imaginary +representative of an illogical ideal? + +"Well, Sor Marzio," said Gianbattista after a pause, "if I were to +return to my worship of you and your principles--what would you do? +Would you take me back to your friendship and give me your daughter?" + +Marzio looked up suddenly, and stared at the apprentice in surprise. But +the fresh young face gave no sign. Gianbattista had spoken quietly, and +was again intent upon his work. + +"If you gave me a proof of your sincerity," answered Marzio, in low +tones, "I would do much for you. Yes, I would give you Lucia--and the +business too, when I am too old to work. But it must be a serious +proof--no child's play." + +"What do you call a serious proof? A profession of faith?" + +"Yes--sealed with the red wax that is a little thicker than water," +answered Marzio grimly, his eyes still fixed on Gianbattista's face. + +"In blood," said the young man calmly. "Whose blood would you like, Sor +Marzio?" + +"Paolo's!" + +The chiseller spoke in a scarcely audible whisper, and bent low over +his slate, modelling hard at the figure under his fingers. + +"I thought so," muttered Gianbattista between his teeth. Then he raised +his voice a little and continued: "And have you the courage, Sor Marzio, +to sit there and bargain with me to kill your brother, bribing me with +the offer of your daughter's hand? Why do you not kill him yourself, +since you talk of such things?" + +"Nonsense, my dear Tista--I was only jesting," said the other nervously. +"It is just like your folly to take me in earnest." The anger had died +out of Marzio's voice and he spoke almost persuasively. + +"I do not know," answered the young man. "I think you were in earnest +for a moment. I would not advise you to talk in that way before any one +else. People might interpret your meaning seriously." + +"After all, you yourself were threatening to cut my throat last night," +said Marzio, with a forced laugh. "It is the same thing. My life is as +valuable as Paolo's. I only suggested that you should transfer your +tender attentions from me to my brother." + +"It is one thing to threaten a man to his face. It is quite another to +offer a man a serious inducement to commit murder. Since you have been +so very frank with me, Sor Marzio, I will confess that if the choice lay +between killing you, or killing Don Paolo, under the present +circumstances I would not hesitate a moment." + +"And which would you--" + +"Neither," replied the young man, with a cool laugh. "Don Paolo is too +good to be killed, and you are not good enough. Come and look at the +cherub's head I have made." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Lucia's cheerfulness was not genuine, and any one possessing greater +penetration than her mother would have understood that she was, in +reality, more frightened than she was willing to show. The girl had a +large proportion of common sense, combined with a quicker perception +than the stout Signora Pandolfi. She did not think that she knew +anything about logic, and she had always shown a certain inconsistency +in her affection for Gianbattista, but she had nevertheless a very clear +idea of what was reasonable, a quality which is of immense value in +difficulties, though it is very often despised in every-day life by +people who believe themselves blessed by the inspirations of genius. + +It seems very hard to make people of other nationalities understand that +the Italians of the present day are not an imaginative people. It is +nevertheless true, and it is only necessary to notice that they produce +few, if any, works of imagination. They have no writers of fiction, no +poets, few composers of merit and few artists who rank with those of +other nations. They possessed the creative faculty once; they have lost +it in our day, and it does not appear that they are likely to regain it. +On the other hand, the Italians are remarkable engineers, first-rate +mathematicians, clever, if unscrupulous, diplomatists. Though they +overrate their power and influence, they have shown a capacity for +organisation which is creditable on the whole. If they fail to obtain +the position they seek in Europe, their failure will have been due to +their inordinate vanity and over-governing, if I may coin the word, +rather than to an innate want of intelligence. + +The qualities and defects of the Italian nation all existed in the +Pandolfi family. Marzio possessed more imagination than most of his +countrymen, and he had, besides, that extraordinary skill in his manual +execution of his work, which Italians have often exhibited on a large +scale. On the other hand, he was full of bombastic talk about principles +which he called great. His views concerning society, government, and the +future of his country, were entirely without balance, and betrayed an +amazing ignorance of the laws which, direct the destinies of mankind. He +suffered in a remarkable degree from that mental disease which afflicts +Italians--the worship of the fetish--of words which mean little, and are +supposed to mean much, of names in history which have been exalted by +the rhetoric of demagogues from the obscurity to which they had been +wisely consigned by the judgment of scholars. He was alternately weak +and despotic, cunning about small things which concerned his own +fortunes, and amazingly foolish about the set of ideas which he loosely +defined as politics. + +Lucia's nature illustrated another phase of the Italian character, and +one which, if it is less remarkable, is much more agreeable. She +possessed the character which looks at everything from the point of view +of daily life. Without imagination, she regarded only the practical side +of existence. Her vanity was confined to a modest wish to make the best +of her appearance, while her ambition went no further than the strictest +possibility, in the shape of a marriage with Gianbattista Bordogni, and +a simple little apartment with a terrace and pots of pinks. Had she +known how much richer her father was than she suspected him of being, +the enlargement of her views for the future would have been marked by a +descent, from the fourth story of the house which was to be her +imaginary home, to the third story. It could never have entered her head +that Gianbattista ought to give up his profession until he was too old +to work any longer. In her estimation, the mere possession of money +could not justify a change of social position. She had been accustomed +from her childhood to hear her father air his views in regard to the +world in general, but his preaching had produced but little impression +upon her. When he thought she was listening in profound attention to his +discourse, she was usually wishing that he could be made to see the +absurdity of his theories. She wished also that he would sacrifice some +of his enthusiasm for the sake of a little more quiet in the house, for +she saw that his talking distressed her mother. Further than this she +cared little what he said, and not at all for what he thought. Her mind +was generally occupied with the one subject which absorbed her thoughts, +and which had grown to be by far the most important part of her nature, +her love for Gianbattista Bordogni. + +Upon that point she was inflexible. Her Uncle Paolo might have led her +to change her mind in regard to many things, for she was open to +persuasion where her common sense was concerned. But in her love for +Gianbattista she was fixed and determined. It would have been more easy +to turn her father from his ideas than to make Lucia give up the man she +loved. When Marzio had suddenly declared that she should marry the +lawyer, her first feeling had been one of ungovernable anger which had +soon found vent in tears. During the night she had thought the matter +over, and had come to the conclusion that it was only an evil jest, +invented by Marzio to give her pain. But in the morning it seemed to +her as though on the far horizon a black cloud of possible trouble were +gathering; she had admitted to herself that her father might be in +earnest, and she had felt something like the anticipation of the great +struggle of her life. Then she felt that she would die rather than +submit. + +She had no theatrical desire to swear a fearful oath with Gianbattista +that they should drown themselves at the Ponte Quattro Capi rather than +be separated. Her nature was not dramatic, any more than his. The young +girl dressed herself quickly, and made up her mind that if any pressure +were brought to bear upon her she would not yield, but that, until then, +there was no use in making phrases, and it would be better to be as +cheerful as possible under the circumstances. But for Lucia's reassuring +manner, the Signora Pandolfi would have doubtless succumbed to her +feelings and gone to bed. Lucia, however, had no intention of allowing +her mother any such weakness, and accordingly alternately comforted her +and suggested means of escape from the position, as though she were +herself the mother and Maria Luisa were her child. + +They found Don Paolo in his small lodging, and he bid them enter, that +they might all talk the matter over. + +"In the first place," said the priest, "it is wrong. In the second +place it is impossible. Thirdly, Marzio will not attempt to carry out +his threat." + +"Dear me! How simple you make it seem!" acclaimed the Signora Pandolfi, +reviving at his first words, like a tired horse when he sees the top of +the hill. + +"But if papa should try and force me to it--what then?" asked Lucia, who +was not so easily satisfied. + +"He cannot force you to it, my child--the law will not allow him to do +so. I told you so last night" + +"But the law is so far off--and he is so violent" answered the young +girl. + +"Never fear," said Don Paolo, reassuring her. "I will manage it all. +These will be a struggle, perhaps; but I will make him see reason. He +had been with his friends last night, and his mind was excited; he was +not himself. He will have thought differently of it this morning;" + +"On the contrary," put in the Signora Pandolfi, "he waked me up at +daylight and gave me a quantity of money to go and buy Lucia's outfit. +And he will come home at midday and ask to see the things I have +brought, and so I thought perhaps we had better buy something just to +show him--half a dozen handkerchiefs--something to make a figure, you +understand?" + +Don Paolo smiled, and Lucia looked sympathetically from him to her +mother. + +"I am afraid that half a dozen handkerchiefs would have a bad effect," +said the priest. "Either he would see that you are not in earnest, and +then he would be very angry, or else he would be deceived and would +think that you were really buying the outfit. In that case you would +have done harm. This thing must not go any further. The idea must be got +out of his head as soon as possible." + +"But if I do nothing at all before dinner he will be furious--he will +cry out that we are all banded together against him--" + +"So we are," said Don Paolo simply. + +"Oh dear, oh dear!" moaned the Signora Pandolfi, looking for her +handkerchief in the anticipation of fresh tears. + +"Do not cry, mamma. It is of no use," said Lucia. + +"No, it is of no use to cry," assented the priest. "There is nothing to +be done but to go and face Marzio, and not leave him until he has +changed his mind. You are afraid to meet him at midday. I will go now to +the workshop and find him." + +"Oh, you are an angel, Paolo!" cried Maria Luisa, regaining her +composure and replacing her handkerchief in her pocket. "Then we need +not buy anything? What a relief!" + +"I told you Uncle Paolo would know what to do," said Lucia. "He is so +good--and so courageous. I would not like to face papa this morning. +Will you really go, Uncle Paolo?" The young girl went and took down his +cloak and hat from a peg on the wall, and brought them to him. + +"Of course I will go, and at once," he answered. "But I must give you a +word of advice." + +"We will do everything you tell us," said the two women together. + +"You must not ask him any questions, nor refer to the matter at all when +he comes home." + +"Diana! I would as soon speak of death!" exclaimed the Signora Pandolfi. + +"And if he begins to talk about it you must not answer him, nor irritate +him in any way." + +"Be easy about that," answered the fat lady. "Never meddle with sleeping +dogs--I know." + +"If he grows very angry you must refer him to me." + +"Oh, but that is another matter! I would rather offer pepper to a cat +than talk to him of you. You would see how he would curse and swear and +call you by bad names." + +"Well, you must not do anything to make him swear, because that would be +a sin; but if he only abuses me, I do not mind. He will do that when I +talk to him. Perhaps after all, if he mentions the matter, you had +better remain silent." + +"Eh! that will be easy. He talks so much, and he talks so fast, never +waiting for an answer. But are you not afraid for yourself, dear Paolo?" + +"Oh, he will not hurt me--I am not afraid of him," answered the priest. +"He will talk a little, he will use some big words, and then it will be +finished. You see, it is not a great thing, after all. Take courage, +Maria Luisa, it will be a matter of half an hour." + +"Heaven grant it may be only that!" murmured Marzio's wife, turning up +her eyes, and rising from her chair. + +Lucia, who, as has been said, had a very keen appreciation of facts, did +not believe that things would go so smoothly. + +"You had better come back with him to our house when it is all over," +she said, "just to give us a sign that it is settled, you know, Uncle +Paolo." + +Don Paolo himself had his doubts about the issue, although he put such a +brave face on it, and in spite of the Signora Pandolfi. That good lady +was by nature very sincere, but she always seemed to bring an irrelevant +and comic element into the proceedings. + +The result of the interview was that, in half an hour, Don Paolo knocked +at the door of the workshop in the Via dei Falegnami, where Marzio and +Gianbattista were at work. The chiseller's voice bade him enter. + +Don Paolo had not found much time to collect his thoughts before he +reached the scene of battle, but his opinion of the matter in hand was +well formed. He loved his niece, and he had begun to like Gianbattista. +He knew the lawyer, Carnesecchi, by reputation, and what he had heard of +him did not prejudice him in the man's favour. It would have been the +same had Marzio chosen any one else. In the priest's estimation, +Gianbattista had a right to expect the fulfilment of the many promises +which had been made to him. To break those promises for no ostensible +reason, just as Gianbattista seemed to be growing up to be a sensible +man, was an act of injustice which Don Paolo would not permit if he +could help it. Gianbattista was not, perhaps, a model man, but, by +contrast with Marzio, he seemed almost saintly. He had a good +disposition and no vices; married to Lucia and devoted to his art, much +might be expected of him. On the other hand, Gasparo Carnesecchi +represented the devil in person. He was known to be an advanced +freethinker, a radical, and, perhaps, worse than a radical--a socialist. +He was certainly not very rich, and Lucia's dowry would be an object to +him; he would doubtless spend the last copper of the money in attempting +to be elected to the Chambers. If he succeeded, he would represent +another unit in that ill-guided minority which has for its sole end the +subversion of the existing state of things. He would probably succeed in +getting back the money he had spent, and more also, by illicit means. If +he failed, the money would be lost, and he would go from bad to worse, +intriguing and mixing himself up with the despicable radical press, in +the hope of getting a hearing and a place. + +There is a scale in the meaning of the word socialist. In France it +means about the same thing as a communist, when one uses plain language. +When one uses the language of Monsieur Dramont, it means a Jew. In +England a socialist is equal to a French conservative republican. In +America it means a thief. In Germany it means an ingenious individual of +restricted financial resources, who generally fails to blow up some +important personage with wet dynamite. In Italy a socialist is an +anarchist pure and simple, who wishes to destroy everything existing for +the sake of dividing a wealth which does not exist at all. It also means +a young man who orders a glass of water and a toothpick at a _café_, and +is able to talk politics for a considerable time on this slender +nourishment. Signor Succi and Signor Merlatti have discovered nothing +new. Their miracles of fasting may be observed by the curious at any +time in a Roman _café_. + +Don Paolo regarded the mere idea of an alliance with Gasparo +Carnesecchi as an outrage upon common sense, and when he entered +Marzio's workshop he was determined to say so. Marzio looked up with an +air of inquiry, and Gianbattista foresaw what was coming. He nodded to +the priest, and brought forward the old straw chair from the corner; +then he returned to his work in silence. + +"You will have guessed my errand," Don Paolo began, by way of +introducing his subject. + +"No," answered Marzio doggedly. "Something about the crucifix, I +suppose." + +"Not at all," returned the priest, folding his hands over the handle of +his umbrella. "A much more delicate matter. You suggested last night an +improbable scheme for marrying Lucia." + +"You had better say that I told you plainly what I mean to do. If you +have come to talk about that, you had better talk to the workmen +outside. They may answer you. I will not!" + +Don Paolo was not to be so easily put off. He waited a moment as though +to give Marzio time to change his mind, and then proceeded. + +"There are three reasons why this marriage will not take place," he +said. "In the first place, it is wrong--that is my point of view. In the +second place, it is impossible--and that is the view the law takes of +it. Thirdly, it will not take place because you will not attempt to push +it. What do you say of my reasons, Marzio?" + +"They are worthy of you," answered the artist. "In the first place, I do +not care a fig for what you think is wrong, or right either. Secondly, I +will take the law into my own hands. Thirdly, I will bring it about and +finish it in a fortnight; and fourthly, you may go to the devil! What do +you think of my reasons, Paolo? They are better than yours, and much +more likely to prevail." + +"My dear Marzio," returned the priest quietly, "you may say anything you +please, I believe, in these days of liberty. But the law will not permit +you to act upon your words. If you can persuade your daughter to marry +Gasparo Carnesecchi of her own free will, well and good. If you cannot, +there is a statute, I am quite sure, which forbids your dragging her up +the steps of the Capitol, and making her sign her name by force or +violence in the presence of the authorities. You may take my word for +it; and so you had better dismiss the matter from your mind at once, and +think no more about it." + +"I remember that you told her so last night," growled Marzio, growing +pale with anger. + +"Certainly." + +"You--you--you priest!" cried the chiseller, unable in his rage to find +an epithet which he judged more degrading. Don Paolo smiled. + +"Yes, I am a priest," he answered calmly. + +"Yea, you are a priest," yelled Marzio, "and what is to become of +paternal authority in a household where such fellows as you are +listening at the keyholes? Is a man to have no more rights? Are we to be +ruled by women and creatures in petticoats? Viper! Poisoning my +household, teaching my daughter to disobey me, my wife to despise me, my +paid workmen to--" + +"Silence!" cried Gianbattista in ringing tones, and with the word he +sprang to his feet and clapped his hand on Marzio's mouth. + +The effect was sudden and unexpected. Marzio was utterly taken by +surprise. It was incredible to him that any one should dare to forcibly +prevent him from indulging in the language he had used with impunity for +so many years. He leaned back pale and astonished, and momentarily dumb +with amazement. Gianbattista stood over him, his young cheeks flushed +with anger, and his broad fist clenched. + +"If you dare to talk in that way to Don Paolo, I will kill you with my +hands!" he said, his voice sinking lower with concentrated +determination. "I have had enough of your foul talk. He is a better man +than you, as I told you last night, and I repeat it now--take care--" + +Marzio made a movement as though he would rise, and at the same instant +Gianbattista seized the long, fine-pointed punch, which served for the +eyes of the cherubs--a dangerous weapon in a determined hand. + +Don Paolo had risen from his chair, and was trying to push himself +between the two. But Gianbattista would not let him. + +"For heaven's sake," cried the priest in great distress, "no violence, +Tista--I will call the men--" + +"Never fear," answered the apprentice quietly; "the man is a coward." + +"To me--you dare to say that to me!" exclaimed Marzio, drawing back at +the same time. + +"Yes--it is quite true. But do not suppose that I think any the worse of +you on that account, Sor Marzio." + +With this taunt, delivered in a voice that expressed the most profound +contempt, Gianbattista went back to his seat and took up his hammer as +though nothing had happened. Don Paolo drew a long breath of relief. As +for Marzio, his teeth chattered with rage. His weakness had been +betrayed at last, and by Gianbattista. All his life he had succeeded in +concealing the physical fear which his words belied. He had cultivated +the habit of offering to face danger, speaking of it in a quiet way, as +he had observed that brave men did. He had found it good policy to tell +people that he was not afraid of them, and his bearing had hitherto +saved him from physical violence. Now he felt as though all his nerves +had been drawn out of his body. He had been terrified, and he knew that +he had shown it. Gianbattista's words stung in his ears like the sting +of wasps. + +"You shall never enter this room again," he hissed out between his +teeth. The young man shrugged his shoulders as though he did not care. +Don Paolo sat down again and grasped his umbrella. + +"Gianbattista," said the priest, "I am grateful to you for your +friendship, my boy. But it is very wrong to be violent--" + +"It is one of the seven deadly sins!" cried Marzio, finding his voice at +last, and by a strange accident venting his feelings in a sentence which +might have been spoken by a confessor to a penitent. + +Gianbattista could not help laughing, but he shook his head as though to +explain that it was not his fault if he was violent with such a man. + +"It is very wrong to threaten people, Tista," repeated Don Paolo; "and +besides it does not hurt me, what Marzio says. Let us all be calm. +Marzio, let us discuss this matter reasonably. Tista, do not be angry at +anything that is said. There is nothing to be done but to look at the +question quietly." + +"It is very well for you to talk like that," grumbled Marzio, +pretending to busy himself over his model in order to cover his +agitation. + +"It is of no use to talk in any other way," answered the priest "I +return to the subject. I only want to convince you that you will find it +impossible to carry out your determination by force. You have only to +ask the very man you have hit upon, the Avvocato Garnesecchi, and he +will tell you the same thing. He knows the law better than you or I. He +will refuse to be a party to such an attempt. Ask him, if you do not +believe me." + +"Yes; a pretty position you want to put me in, by the body of a dog! To +ask a man to marry my daughter by force! A fine opinion he would +conceive of my domestic authority! Perhaps you will take upon yourself +to go and tell him--won't you, dear Paolo? It would save me the +trouble." + +"I think that is your affair," answered Don Paolo, taking him in +earnest. "Nevertheless, if you wish it--" + +"Oh, this is too much!" cried Marzio, his anger rising again. "It is not +enough that you thwart me at every turn, but you come here to mock me, +to make a figure of me! Take care, Paolo, take care! You may go too +far." + +"I would not advise you to go too far, Sor Marzio," put in +Gianbattista, turning half round on his stool. + +"Cannot I speak without being interrupted? Go on with your work, Tista, +and let us talk this matter out. I tell you, Paolo, that I do not want +your advice, and that I have had far too much of your interference. I +will inquire into this matter, so far as it concerns the law, and I will +show you that I am right, in spite of all your surmises and prophecies. +A man is master in his own house and must remain so, whatever laws are +made. There is no law which can force a man to submit to the dictation +of his brother--even if his brother is a priest." + +Marzio spoke more calmly than he had done hitherto, in spite of the +sneer in the last sentence. He had broken down, and he felt that Paolo +and Gianbattista were too much for him. He desired no repetition of the +scene which had passed, and he thought the best thing to be done was to +temporise for a while. + +"I am glad you are willing to look into the matter," answered Don Paolo. +"I am quite sure you will soon be convinced." + +Marzio was silent, and it was evident that the interview was at an end. +Don Paolo was tolerably well satisfied, for he had gained at least one +point in forcing his brother to examine the question. He remained a +moment in his seat, reviewing the situation, and asking himself whether +there was anything more to be said. He wished indeed that he could +produce some deeper impression on the artist. It was not enough, from +the moral point of view, that Marzio should be made to see the +impossibility of his scheme, although it was as much as could be +expected. The good man wished with all his heart that Marzio could be +softened a little, that he might be made to consider his daughter's +feelings, to betray some sign of an affection which seemed wholly dead, +to show some more human side of his character. But the situation at +present forbade Don Paolo from making any further effort. The presence +of Gianbattista, who had suddenly constituted himself the priest's +defender, was a constraint. Alone with his brother, Marzio might +possibly have exhibited some sensibility, but while the young man who +had violently silenced him a few moments earlier was looking on, the +chiseller would continue to be angry, and would not forget the +humiliation he had suffered. There was nothing more to be done at +present, and Don Paolo prepared to take his departure, gathering his +cloak around him, and smoothing the felt of his three-cornered hat while +he held his green umbrella under his arm. + +"Are you going already, Don Paolo?" asked Gianbattista, rising to open +the door. + +"Yes, I must go. Good-bye, Marzio. Bear me no ill-will for pressing you +to be cautious. Good-bye, Tista." He pressed the young man's hand +warmly, as though to thank him for his courageous defence, and then left +the workshop. Marzio paid no attention to his departure. When the door +was closed, and as Gianbattista was returning to his bench, the artist +dropped his modelling tools and faced his apprentice. + +"You may go too," he said in a low tone, as though he were choking. "I +mean you may go for good. I do not need you any longer." + +He felt in his pocket for his purse, opened it, and took out some small +notes. + +"I give you an hour to take your things from my house," he continued. +"There are your wages--you shall not tell the priest that I cheated +you." + +Gianbattista stood still in the middle of the room while Marzio held out +the money to him. A hot flush rose to his young forehead, and he seemed +on the point of speaking, but the words did not pass his lips. With a +quick step he came forward, took the notes from Marzio's hand, and +crumpling them in his fingers, threw them in his face with all his +might. Then he turned on his heel, spat on the floor of the room, and +went out before Marzio could find words to resent the fresh insult. + +The door fell back on the latch and Marzio was alone. He was very pale, +and for a moment his features worked angrily. Then a cruel smile passed +over his face. He stooped down, picked up the crumpled notes, counted +them, and replaced them in his purse. The economical instinct never +forsook him, and he did the thing mechanically. Glancing at the bench +his eyes fell on the pointed punch which Gianbattista had taken up in +his anger. He felt it carefully, handled it, looked at it, smiled again +and put it into his pocket. + +"It is not a bad one," he muttered. "How many cherubs' eyes I have made +with that thing!" + +He turned to the slate and examined the rough model he had made in wax, +flat still, and only indicated by vigorous touches, the red material +smeared on the black surface all around it by his fingers. There was +force in the figure, even in its first state, and there was a strange +pathos in the bent head, the only part as yet in high relief. But Marzio +looked at it angrily. He turned it to the light, closed his eyes a +moment, looked at it again, and then, with an incoherent oath, his long, +discoloured hand descended on the model, and, with a heavy pressure and +one strong push, flattened out what he had done, and smeared it into a +shapeless mass upon the dark stone. + +"I shall never do it," he said in a low voice. "They have destroyed my +idea." + +For some minutes he rested his head in his hand in deep thought. At +last he rose and went to a corner of the workshop in which stood a +heavily ironed box. Marzio fumbled in his pocket till he found a key, +bright from always being carried about with him, and contrasting oddly +with the rusty lock into which he thrust it. It turned with difficulty +in his nervous fingers, and he raised the heavy lid. The coffer was full +of packages wrapped in brown paper. He removed one after another till he +came to a wooden case which filled the whole length and breadth of the +safe. He lifted it out carefully and laid it on the end of the bench. +The cover was fastened down by screws, and he undid them one by one +until it moved and came off in his hands. The contents were wrapped +carefully in a fine towel, which had once been white, but which had long +grown yellow with age. Marzio unfolded the covering with a delicate +touch as though he feared to hurt what was within. He took out a large +silver crucifix, raising it carefully, and taking care not to touch the +figure. He stood it upon the bench before him, and sat down to examine +it. + +It was a work of rare beauty, which he had made more than ten years +before. With the strange reticent instinct which artists sometimes feel +about their finest works, he had finished it in secret, working at night +alone, and when it was done he had put it away. It was his greatest +feat, he had said to himself, and, as from time to time he took it out +and looked at it, he gradually grew less and less inclined to show it to +any one, resolving to leave it in its case, until it should be found +after his death. It had seemed priceless to him, and he would not sell +it. With a fantastic eccentricity of reasoning he regarded it as a +sacred thing, to part with which would be a desecration. So he kept it. +Then, taking it out again, it had seemed less good to him, as his mind +became occupied with other things, and he had fancied he should do +better yet. At last he screwed it up in a wooden case and put it at the +bottom of his strong box, resolving never to look at it again. Many +years had passed since he had laid eyes upon it. + +The idea which had come to him when Paolo had communicated the order to +him on the previous evening, had seemed absolutely new. It had appeared +to him as a glorification of the work he had executed in secret so long +ago. Time, and the habit of dissatisfaction had effaced from his mind +the precise image of the work of the past, and the emotions of the +present had seemed something new to him. He had drawn and modelled +during many hours, and yet he was utterly disappointed with the new +result. He felt the innate consciousness of having done it before, and +of having done it better. + +And now the wonderful masterpiece of his earlier years stood before +him--the tall and massive ebony cross, bearing the marvellous figure of +the dead Saviour. A ray of sunlight fell through the grated window upon +the dying head, illuminating the points of the thorns in the crown, the +falling locks of hair, the tortured hands, and casting a shadow of death +beneath the half-closed eyes. + +For several minutes Marzio sat motionless on his stool, realising the +whole strength and beauty of what he had done ten years before. Then he +wanted to get a better view of it. It was not high enough above him, for +it was meant to stand upon an altar. He could not see the face. He +looked about for something upon which to make it stand, but nothing was +near. He pushed away his stool, and turning the cross a little, so that +the sunlight should strike it at a better angle, he kneeled down on the +floor, his hands resting on the edge of the bench, and he looked up at +the image of the dead Christ. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +When Don Paolo left the workshop, he immediately crossed over and +entered the street door of Marzio's house, intending to tell Maria Luisa +and Lucia the result of the interview. He had not got to the top of the +first flight of stairs when he heard Gianbattista's step behind him, and +turning he saw the young man's angry face. + +"What is the matter, Tista?" asked the priest, stopping on the steps and +laying his hand on the iron railing. + +"I am discharged, turned out, insulted by that animal!" answered the +apprentice hotly. "He is like a piece of wood! You might as well talk to +a wall! You had only just closed the door when he pulled out his purse, +counted my wages, and told me to take my things from his house in an +hour. I threw the money in his face--the beast!" + +"Hush, Tista," said Don Paolo. "Do not be angry--we will arrange it all +before night. He cannot do without you, and after all it is my fault. +Calm yourself, Tista, my boy--we will soon set that straight." + +"Yes--in an hour I will have left the house. Then it will be straight +enough, as you call it. Oh! I would like to strangle him! Dear Don +Paolo, nobody but you can arrange this affair--" + +"Hush, hush, Tista. I cannot hear you talk in this way. Come, we will go +back to Marzio. He will listen to reason--" + +"Do you know what he said to me not a quarter of an hour before you came +in?" asked Gianbattista quickly, laying his hand on the priest's arm. +"He said I might have Lucia and welcome if I would kill you! Do you +understand? I wish you could have seen the look in his eyes!" + +"No, no, my boy--he was angry. He did not mean it." + +"Mean it! Bacchus! He would kill you himself if he were not such a +dastardly coward!" + +Don Paolo shook his head with an incredulous smile, and looked kindly +into the young man's eyes. + +"You have all lost your heads over this unfortunate affair, Tista. You +are all talking of killing each other and yourselves as though it were +as simple as 'good-morning.' It is very wrong to talk of such things, +and besides, you know, it is not really worth while--" + +"It seems simple enough to me," answered the young man, frowning and +clenching his hand. + +"Come with me," urged the other, making as though he would descend the +steps. "Come back to the workshop, and we will talk it all over." + +"Wait a minute, Don Paolo. There is one thing--one favour I want to ask +of you." Gianbattista lowered his voice. "You can do it for us--I am +sure you will. I will call Lucia, and we will go with you--" + +"Where?" asked the priest, not understanding the look of the young man. + +"To church, of course. You can marry us in ten minutes, and the thing +will be all over. Then we can laugh at Sor Marzio." + +Don Paolo smiled. + +"My dear boy," he answered, "those things are not done in a moment like +roasting chestnuts. There are banns to be published. There is a civil +marriage at the Capitol--" + +"I should be quite satisfied with your benediction--a _Pater Noster_, an +_Oremus_ properly said--eh? Would it not be all right?" + +"Really, Tista!" exclaimed the good man, holding up his hands in horror. +"I had no idea that your religious education had been so neglected! My +dear child, marriage is a very solemn thing." + +"By Diana! I should think so! But that need not make it such a long +ceremony. A man dies in a moment--_paff!_--the light is out!--you are +dead. It is very solemn. The same thing for marriage. The priest looks +at you, says _Oremus_--_paff!_ You are married, and it cannot be undone! +I know it is very serious, but it is only the affair of a moment." + +Don Paolo did not know whether to laugh or to look grave at this +exposition of Gianbattista's views of death and matrimony. He put it +down to the boy's excitement. + +"There is another reason, Tista. The law does not allow a girl of +seventeen to be married without her father's consent." + +"The law again!" exclaimed Gianbattista in disgust. "I thought the law +protected Lucia from her father. You said so last night, and you +repeated it this morning." + +"Certainly, my boy. But the law also protects parents against any +rashness their children may meditate. It would be no marriage if Lucia +had not Marzio's consent." + +"I wish there were no laws," grumbled the young man. "How do you come to +know so much about marriage, Don Paolo?" + +"It is my profession. Come along; we will talk to Marzio." + +"What can we say to him? You do not suppose I will go and beg to be +taken back?" + +"You must be forgiving--" + +"I believe in forgiveness when the other side begins," said +Gianbattista. + +"Perhaps Marzio will forgive too," argued the priest. + +"He has nothing to forgive," answered the young man. The reasoning +seemed to him beyond refutation. + +"But if he says he has no objection, if he begs you to come back, I +think you might make some advance on your side, Tista. Besides, you were +very rough with him this morning." + +"He turned me out like a dog--after all these years," said Gianbattista. +"I will go back and work for him on one condition. He must give me Lucia +at once." + +"I am afraid that as a basis of negotiations that plan leaves much to be +desired," replied Don Paolo, in a meditative tone. "Of course, we are +all determined that you shall marry her in the end; but unless +Providence is pleased to change Marzio's state of mind, you may have to +wait until she is of age. He will never consent at present." + +"In that case I had better go and take my things away from his house," +returned the apprentice. "And say good-bye to Lucia--for a day or two," +he added in a low voice. + +"Of course, if you will not agree to be conciliatory it is of no use for +you to come with me," said Don Paolo rather sadly. "Dear me! Here comes +Maria Luisa with Suntarella!" + +"Ah, dear Paolo, dear Paolo!" cried the stout lady, puffing up the +stairs with the old woman close behind her. "How good you are! And what +did he say? We asked if you had gone at the workshop, and they said you +had, so Lucia went in to ask her father whether he would have the +chickens boiled or roasted. Well, well, tell me all about it. These +stairs! Suntarella, run up and open the door while I get my breath! Dear +Paolo, you are an angel of goodness!" + +"Softly, Maria Luisa," answered the priest. "There is good and bad. He +has admitted that he will have to consider the matter because he cannot +make Lucia marry without her consent. But on the other hand--poor +Tista--" he looked at the young man and hesitated. + +"He has turned me out," said Gianbattista. "He has given me an hour to +leave his house. I believe a good part of the hour has passed already--" + +"And Tista says he will not go back at any price," put in Don Paolo. The +Signora Pandolfi gasped for breath. + +"Oh! oh! I shall faint!" she sobbed, pressing the handle of her parasol +against her breast with both hands. "Oh, what shall we do? We are lost! +Paolo, your arm--I shall die!" + +"Courage, courage, Maria Luisa," said the priest kindly. "We will find +a remedy. For the present Tista can come to my house. There is the +little room Where the man-servant sleeps, who is gone to see his sick +wife in the country. The Cardinal will not mind." + +"But you are not going like tins?" cried the stout lady, grasping +Gianbattista's arm and looking into his face with an expression of +forlorn bewilderment. "You cannot go to-day--it is impossible, +Tista--your shirts are not even ironed! Oh dear I oh dear! And I had +anticipated a feast because I was sure that Marzio would see reason +before midday, and there are chickens for dinner--with rice, Tista, just +as you like them--oh, you cannot go, Tista, I cannot let you go!" + +"Courage, Maria Luisa," exhorted Don Paolo. "It is not a question of +chickens." + +"Dear Sora Luisa, you are too good," said Gianbattista. "Let us go +upstairs first, to begin with--you will catch cold here on the steps. +Come, come, courage, Sora Luisa!" + +He took the good woman's arm and led her upwards. But Don Paolo stayed +behind. He believed it to be his duty to return to the workshop, and to +try and undo the harm Gianbattista had done himself by the part he had +played in the proceedings of the morning. The Signora Pandolfi suffered +herself to be led upstairs, panting and sobbing as she went, and +protesting still that Gianbattista could not possibly be allowed to +leave the house. + +When Don Paolo had parted from the two women an hour earlier, they had +not gone home as he had supposed, but, chancing to meet old Assunta near +the house, the three had gone together to make certain necessary +purchases. On their return they had inquired for Paolo at the workshop, +as Maria Luisa had explained, and Lucia had entered in the confident +expectation of finding that the position of things had mended +considerably since the early morning. Moreover, since the announcement +of the previous evening, the young girl had not seen her father alone. +She wanted to talk to him on her own account, in order to sound the +depth of his determination. She was not afraid of him. The fact that for +a long time he had regarded favourably the project of her marriage with +Gianbattista had given her a confidence which was not to be destroyed in +a moment, even by Marzio's strange conduct. She passed through the outer +rooms, nodding to the workmen, who touched their caps to the master's +daughter. A little passage separated the large workshop from the inner +studio. The door at the end was not quite closed. Lucia went up to it, +and looked through the opening to see whether Gianbattista were with her +father. The sight she saw was so surprising that she leaned against the +door-post for support. She could not believe her eyes. + +There was her father in his woollen blouse, kneeling, on the brick floor +of the room, before a crucifix, his back turned towards her, his hands +raised, and, as it seemed from the position of the arms, folded in +prayer. The sunlight fell upon the silver figure, and upon the dark +tangled hair of the artist who remained motionless, as though absorbed +in devotion, while his daughter watched him through the half-open door. +The scene was one which would have struck any one; the impression it +made on Lucia was altogether extraordinary. She easily fancied that +Marzio, after his interview with Don Paolo, had felt a great and sudden +revulsion of sentiment. She knew that the priest had not left the studio +many minutes before, and she saw her father apparently praying before a +crucifix. A wonderful conversion had been effected, and the result was +there manifest to the girl's eyes. + +She held her breath, and remained at the door, determined not to move +until Marzio should have risen from his knees. To interrupt him at such +a moment would have been almost a sacrilege; it might produce the most +fatal results; it would be an intrusion upon the privacy of a repentant +man. She stood watching and waiting to see what would happen. + +Presently Marzio moved. Lucia thought he was going to rise from his +knees, but she was surprised to see that he only changed the position of +the crucifix with one hand. He approached his head so near the lower +part of it that Lucia fancied he was in the act of pressing his lips +upon the crossed feet of the silver Christ. Then he drew back a little, +turned his head to one side, and touched the figure with his right hand. +It was evident, now, that he was no longer praying, but that something +about the workmanship had attracted his attention. + +How natural, the girl said to herself, that this man, even in such a +supreme moment, should not forget his art--that, even in prayer, his +eyes should mechanically detect an error of the chisel, a flaw in the +metal, or some such detail familiar to his daily life. She did not think +the worse of him for it. He was an artist! The habit of his whole +existence could not cease to influence him--he could as soon have ceased +to breathe. Lucia watched him and felt something like love for her +father. Her sympathy was with him in both actions; in his silent prayer, +in the inner privacy of his working-room, as well as in the inherent +love of his art, from which he could not escape even when he was doing +something contrary to the whole tenor of his life. Lucia thought how Don +Paolo's face would light up when she should tell him of what she had +seen. Then she wondered, with a delicate sense of respect for her +father's secret feelings, whether she would have the right to tell any +one what she had accidentally seen through the half-closed door of the +studio. + +Marzio moved again, and this time he rose to his feet and remained +standing, so that the crucifix was completely hidden from her view. She +knocked at the door. Her father turned suddenly round, and faced the +entrance, still hiding the crucifix by his figure. + +"Who is it?" he asked in a tone that sounded as though he were startled. + +"Lucia," answered the girl timidly. "May I come in, papa?" + +"Wait a minute," he answered. She drew back, and, still watching him, +saw that he laid the cross down upon the table, and covered it with a +towel--the same one in which it had been wrapped. + +"Come in," he called out "What is the matter?" + +"I only came for a moment, papa," answered Lucia, entering the room and +glancing about her as she came forward. "Mamma sent me in to ask you +about the chickens--there are chickens for dinner--she wanted to know +whether you would like them roasted or boiled with rice." + +"Roasted," replied Marzio, taking up a chisel and pretending to be busy. +"It is Gianbattista who likes them boiled." + +"Thank you, I will go home and tell her. Papa--" the girl hesitated. + +"What is the matter?" + +"Papa, you are not angry any more as you were last night?" + +"Angry? No. What makes you ask such a question? I was not angry last +night, and I am not angry now. Who put the idea into your head?" + +"I am so glad," answered Lucia. "Not with me, not with Tista? I am so +glad! Where is Tista, papa?" + +"I have not the slightest idea. You will probably not see Tista any +more, nor Gianbattista, nor his excellency the Signorino Bordogni" + +Lucia turned suddenly pale, and rested her hand upon the old straw chair +on which Don Paolo had sat during his visit. + +"What is this? What do you tell me? Not see Tista?" she asked quickly. + +"Gianbattista had the bad taste to attack me this morning--here--in my +own studio," said Marzio, turning round and facing his daughter. "He put +his hands upon my face, do you understand? He would have stabbed me with +a chisel if Paolo had not interfered. Do you understand that? Out of +deference for your affections I did not kill him, as I might have done. +I dismissed him from my service, and gave him an hour to take his +effects out of my house. Is that clear? I offered him his money. He +threw it in my face and spat at me as he went out. Is that enough? If I +find him at home when I come to dinner I will have him turned out by the +police. You see, you are not likely to set eyes on him for a day or two. +You may go home and tell your mother the news, if she has not heard it +already. It will be sauce for her chickens." + +Lucia leaned upon the chair during this speech, her black eyes growing +wider and wider, and her face turning whiter at every word. To her it +seemed, in this first moment, like a hopeless separation from the man +she loved. With a sudden movement she sprang forward, and fell on her +knees at Marzio's feet. + +"Oh, my father, I beseech you, in the name of heaven," she cried wildly. + +"It is not of the slightest use," answered Marzio, drawing back. Lucia +knelt for one moment before him, with upturned face, an expression of +imploring despair on her features. Then she sank down in a heap upon the +floor against the three-legged stool, which tottered, lost its balance +under her weight, and fell over upon the bricks with a loud crash. The +poor girl had fainted away. + +Marzio was startled by the sight and the sound, and then, seeing what +had happened, he was very much frightened. He knelt down beside his +daughter's prostrate body and bent over her face. He raised her up in +his long, nervous arms, and lifted her to the old chair till she sat +upon it, and he supported her head and body, kneeling on the floor +beside her. A sharp pain shot through his heart, the faint indication of +a love not wholly extinguished. + +"Lucia, dear Lucia!" he said, in a voice so tender that it sounded +strangely in his own ears. But the gill gave no sign. Her head would +have fallen forward if he had not supported it with his hands. + +"My daughter! Little Lucia! You are not dead--tell me you are not dead!" +he cried. In his fright and sudden affection he pressed his lips to her +face, kissing her again and again. "I did not mean to hurt you, darling +child," he repeated, as though she could hear him speak. + +At last her eyes opened. A shiver ran through her body and she raised +her head. She was very pale as she leaned back in the chair. Marzio took +her hands and robbed them between his dark fingers, still looking into +her eyes. + +"Ah!" she gasped, "I thought I was dead." Then, as Marzio seemed about +to speak, she added faintly: "Don't say it again!" + +"Lucia--dear Lucia! I knew you were not dead I knew you would come back +to me," he said, still in very tender tones. "Forgive me, child--I did +not mean to hurt you." + +"No? Oh, papa! Then why did you say it?" she cried, suddenly bursting +into tears and weeping upon his shoulder. "Tell me it is not true--tell +me so!" she sobbed. + +Marzio was almost as much disconcerted by Lucia's return to +consciousness as he had been by her fainting away. His nature had +unbent, momentarily, under the influence of his strong fear for his +daughter's life. Now that she had recovered so quickly, he remembered +Gianbattista's violence and scornful words, and he seemed to feel the +young man's strong hand upon his mouth, stifling his speech. He +hesitated, rose to his feet, and began to pace the floor. Lucia watched +him with intense anxiety. There was a conflict in his mind between the +resentment which was not half an hour old, and the love for his child, +which had been so quickly roused during the last five minutes. + +"Well--Lucia, my dear--I do not know--" he stopped short in his walk and +looked at her. She leaned forward as though to catch his words. + +"Do you think you could not--that you would be so very unhappy, I mean, +if he lived out of the house--I mean to say, if he had lodgings, +somewhere, and came back to work?" + +"Oh, papa--I should faint away again--and I should die. I am quite sure +of it." + +Marzio looked anxiously at her, as though he expected to see her fall to +the ground a second time. It went against the grain of his nature to +take Gianbattista back, although he had discharged him hastily in the +anger of the moment. He turned away and glanced at the bench. There were +the young man's tools, the hammer as he had left it, the piece of work +on the leathern pad. The old impulse of foresight for the future acted +in Marzio's mind. He could never find such another workman. In the +uncertainty of the moment, as often happens, details rose to his +remembrance and produced their effect. He recollected the particular way +in which Gianbattista used to hold the blunt chisel in first tracing +over the drawing on a silver plate. He had never seen any one do it in +the same way. + +"Well, Lucia--don't faint away. If you can make him stay, I will take +him back. But I am afraid you will have hard work. He will make +difficulties. He threw the money in my face, Lucia--in your father's +face, girl! Think of that. Well, well, do what you like. He is a good +workman. Go away, child, and leave me to myself. What will you say to +him?" + +Lucia threw her arms round her father's neck and kissed him in her +sudden joy. Then she stood a moment in thought. + +"Give me his money," she said. "If he will take the money he will come +back." + +Marzio hesitated, slowly drew out his purse, and began to take out the +notes. + +"Well--if you will have it so," he grumbled. "After all, as he threw it +away, I do not see that he has much right to it. There it is. If he says +anything about that ten-franc note being torn, tell him he tore it +himself. Go home, Lucia, and manage things as you can." + +Lucia put the money in her glove, and busied herself for a moment in +brushing the dust from her clothes. Mechanically, her father helped her. + +"You are quite sure you did not hurt yourself?" he asked. The whole +occurrence seemed indistinct, as though some one had told something +which he had not understood--as we sometimes listen to a person reading +aloud, and, missing by inattention the verb of the sentence, remain +confused, and ask ourselves what the words mean. + +"No--not at all. It is nothing," answered Lucia, and in a moment she was +at the door. + +Opening it to go out, she saw the tall figure of Don Paolo at the other +end of the passage coming rapidly towards her. She raised her finger to +her lips and nodded, as though to explain that everything was settled, +and that the priest should not speak to Marzio. She, of course, did not +know that he had been talking with Gianbattista and her mother, nor that +he knew anything about the apprentice's dismissal. She only feared fresh +trouble, now that the prospect looked so much clearer, in case Don Paolo +should again attack her father upon the subject of the marriage. But her +uncle came forward and made as though he would enter the workshop. + +"It is all settled," she said quietly. Don Paolo looked at her in +astonishment. At that moment Marzio caught sight of him over the girl's +shoulder, in the dusky entrance. + +"Come in, Paolo," he called out "I have something to show you. Go home, +Lucia, my child." + +Not knowing what to expect, and marvelling at the softened tone of his +brother's voice, Don Paolo entered the room, waited till Lucia was out +of the passage, and then closed the door behind him. He stood in the +middle of the floor, grasping his umbrella in his hand and wondering +upon what new phase the business was entering. + +"I have something to show you," Marzio repeated, as though to check any +question which the priest might be going to put to him. "You asked me +for a crucifix last night. I have one here. Will it do! Look at it." + +While speaking, Marzio had uncovered the cross and lifted it up, so that +it stood on the bench where he had at first placed it to examine it +himself. Then he stepped back and made way for Don Paolo. The priest +stood for a moment speechless before the masterpiece, erect, his hands +folded before him. Then, as though recollecting himself, he took off his +hat, which he had forgotten to remove on entering the workshop. + +"What a miracle!" he exclaimed, in a low voice. + +Marzio stood a little behind him, his hands in the pockets of his +woollen blouse. A long silence followed. Don Paolo could not find words +to express his admiration, and his wonder was mixed with a profound +feeling of devotion. The amazing reality of the figure, clothed at the +same time in a sort of divine glory, impressed itself upon him as he +gazed, and roused that mystical train of religious contemplation which +is both familiar and dear to devout persons. He lost himself in his +thoughts, and his refined features showed as in a mirror the current of +his meditation. The agony of the Saviour of mankind was renewed before +him, culminating in the sacrifice upon the cross. Involuntarily Paolo +bent his head and repeated in low tones the words of the Creed, "_Qui +propter nos homines et propter_ _nostram, salutem descendit de +coelis_," and then, "_Crucifixus etiam pro nobis_." + +Marzio stood looking on, his hands in his pockets. His fingers grasped +the long sharp punch he had taken from the table after Gianbattista's +departure. His eyes fixed themselves upon the smooth tonsure at the back +of Paolo's head, and slowly his right hand issued from his pocket with +the sharp instrument firmly clenched in it. He raised it to the level of +his head, just above that smooth shaven circle in the dark hair. His +eyes dilated and his mouth worked nervously as the pale lips stretched +themselves across the yellow teeth. + +Don Paolo moved, and turned to speak to his brother concerning the work +of art. Seeing Marzio's attitude, he started with a short cry and +stretched out his arm as though to parry a blow. + +"Marzio!" + +The artist had quickly brought his hand to his forehead, and the ghastly +affectation of a smile wreathed about his white lips. His voice was +thick. + +"I was only shading my eyes from the sun. Don't you see how it dazzles +me, reflected from the silver? What did you imagine, Paolo? You look +frightened." + +"Oh, nothing," answered the priest bravely. "Perhaps I am a little +nervous to-day." + +"Bacchus! It looks like it," said Marzio, with an attempt to laugh. +Then he tossed the tool upon the table among the rest with an impatient +gesture. "What do you think of the crucifix?" + +"It is very wonderful," said Paolo, controlling himself by an effort. +"When did you make it, Marzio? You have not had time--" + +"I made it years ago," answered the chiseller, turning his face away to +hide his pallor. "I made it for myself. I never meant to show it, but I +believe I cannot do anything better. Will it do for your cardinal? Look +at the work. It is as fine as anything of the kind in the world, though +I say it. Yes--it is cast. Of course, you do not understand the art, +Paolo, but I will explain it all to you in a few minutes--" + +Marzio talked very fast, almost incoherently, and he was evidently +struggling with an emotion. Paolo, standing back a little from the +bench, nodded his head from time to time. + +"It is all very simple," continued the artist, as though he dared not +pause for breath. "You see one sometimes makes little figures of real +_repoussé_, half and half, done in cement and then soldered together so +that they look like one piece, but it is impossible to do them well +unless you have dies to press the plate into the first shape--and the +die always makes the same figure, though you can vary the face and twist +the arms and legs about. Cheap silver crucifixes and angels and those +things are all made in that way, and with care a great deal can be done, +of course, to give them an artistic look." + +"Of course," assented Don Paolo, in a low voice. He thought he +understood the cause of his brother's eloquence. + +"Yes, of course," continued Marzio, as rapidly as before. "But to make a +really good thing like this, is a different matter. A very different +matter. Here you must model your figure in wax, and make moulds of the +parts of it, and chisel each part separately, copying the model. And +then you must join all the parts together with silver-soldering, and go +over the lines carefully. It needs the most delicate handling, for +although the casting is very heavy it is not like working on a chalice +that is filled with cement and all arranged for you, that can be put in +the fire, melted out, softened, cooled, and worked over as often as you +please. There is no putting in the fire here--not more than once after +you have joined the pieces. Do you understand me? Why do you look at me +in that way, Paolo? You look as though you did not follow me." + +"On the contrary," said the priest, "I think I understand it very +well--as well as an outsider can understand such a process. No--I merely +look at the finished work. It is superb, Marzio--magnificent! I have +never seen anything like it." + +"Well, you may have it to-night," said Marzio, turning away, and +walking about the room. "I will touch it over. I can improve it a +little. I have learned something in ten years. I will work all to-day, +and I will bring it home this evening to show Maria Luisa. Then you may +take it away." + +"And the price? I must be able to tell the Cardinal." + +"Oh, never mind the price. I will be content to take whatever he gives +me, since it is going. No price would represent the labour. Indeed, +Paolo, if it were any one but you, I would not let it go. Nothing but my +affection for you would make me give it to you. It is the gem of my +studio. Ah, how I worked at it ten years ago!" + +"Thank you. I think I understand," answered the priest. "I am very much +obliged to you, Marzio, and I assure you it will be appreciated. I must +be going. Thank you for showing it to me. I will come and get it +to-night." + +"Well, good-bye, Paolo," said Marzio. "Here is your umbrella." + +As Don Paolo turned away to leave the room, the artist looked curiously +at the tonsure on his head, and his eyes followed it until Paolo had +covered it with his hat. Then he closed the door and went back to the +bench. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Lucia hastened homewards with the good news she bore. Her young nature +was elastic, and, in the sudden happiness of having secured +Gianbattista's recall, she quickly recovered from the shock she had +received. She did not reflect very much, for she had not the time. It +had all happened so quickly that her senses were confused, and she only +knew that the man she loved must be in despair, and that the sooner she +reached him the sooner she would be able to relieve him from what he +must be suffering. Her breath came fast as she reached the top of the +stairs, and she panted as she rang the bell of the lodging. Apparently +she had rung so loud in her excitement as to rouse the suspicions of old +Assunta, who cautiously peered through the little square that opened +behind a grating in the door, before she raised the latch. On seeing +Lucia she began to laugh, and opened quickly. + +"So loud!" chuckled the old thing. "I thought it was the police or Sor +Marzio in a rage." + +Lucia did not heed her, but ran quickly on to the sitting-room, where +the Signora Pandolfi was alone, seated on her straight chair and holding +her bonnet in her hand, the bonnet with the purple glass grapes; she was +the picture of despair. Lucia made haste to comfort her. + +"Do not cry, mamma," she said quickly. "I have arranged it all. I have +seen papa. I have brought Tista's money. Papa wants him to stay after +all. Yes--I know you cannot guess how it all happened. I went in to ask +about the chickens, and then I asked about Tista, and he told me that I +should not see him any more, and then--then I felt this passion--here in +the chest, and everything went round and round and round like a +whirligig at the Termini, and I fell right down, mamma, down upon the +bricks--I know, my frock is all dusty still, here, look, and here, but +what does it matter? Patience! I fell down like a sack of flour--_pata +tunfate_!" + +"T-t-t-t!" exclaimed the Signora Pandolfi, holding up her hands and +drawing in her breath as she clacked her tongue against the roof of her +mouth. "T-t-t-t! What a pity!" + +"And when I came to my senses--I had fainted, you understand--I was +sitting on the old straw chair and papa was holding my hands in his and +calling me his angel! _Capperi_! But it was worth while. You can +imagine the situation when he called me an angel! It is the first time I +have ever fainted, mamma--you have no idea--it was so curious!" + +"Ah, my dear, it must have softened his heart!" cried Maria Luisa. "If I +could only faint away like that once in a while! Who knows? He might be +converted. But what would you have?" The signora glanced down sadly at +her figure, which certainly suggested no such weakness as she seemed to +desire. "Well, Lucia," she continued, "and then?" + +"Yes, I talked to him, I implored him, I told him I should probably +faint again, and, indeed, I felt like it. So he said I might have my +way, and he told me to come home and tell Tista at once. Where is +Tista?" + +"Eh! He is in his room, packing up his things. I will go and call him. +Oh dear! What a wonderful day this is, my child! To think that it is not +yet eleven o'clock, and all that has happened! It is enough to make a +woman crazy, fit to send to Santo Spirito. First you are to be married, +and then you are not to be married! Then Gianbattista is sent +away--after all these years, and such a good boy! And then he is taken +back! And then--but the chickens, Lucia, you forgot to ask about the +chickens--" + +"Not a bit of it," answered the young girl. "I asked first, before he +told me. Afterwards, I don't know--I should not have had the strength to +speak of chickens. He said roasted, mamma. Poor Tista! He likes them +with rice. Well, one cannot have everything in this world." + +The Signora Pandolfi had reached the door, and called out at the top of +her voice to the young man. + +"Tista! Tista!" She could have been heard in the street. + +"Eh, Sora Luisa! We are not in the Piazza Navona," said Gianbattista, +appearing at the door of his little room. "What has happened?" + +"Go and talk to Lucia," answered the good lady, hurrying off in search +of Assunta to tell her the decision concerning the dinner. + +Gianbattista entered the sitting-room, and, from the young girl's +radiant expression, he guessed that some favourable change had taken +place in his position, or in the positions of them both. Lucia began to +tell him what had passed, and gave much the same account as she had +given to her mother, though some of the intonations were softer, and +accompanied by looks which told her happiness. When she had explained +the situation she paused for an answer. Gianbattista stood beside her +and held her hand, but he looked out of the window, as though uncertain +what to say. + +"Here is the money," said Lucia. "You will take it, won't you? Then it +will be all settled. What is the matter, Tista? Are you not glad?" + +"I do not trust him," answered the young man. "It is not like him to +change his mind like that, all in a minute. He means some mischief." + +"What can he do?" + +"I do not know. I feel as if some evil were coming. Patience! Who knows? +You are an angel, Lucia, darling." + +"Everybody is telling me so to-day," answered the young girl. "Papa, +you--" + +"Of course. It is quite true, my heart, and so every one repeats it. +What do you think? Will he come home to dinner? It is only eleven +o'clock--perhaps I ought to go back and work at the ewer. Somehow I do +not want to see him just now--" + +"Stay with me, Tista. Besides, you were packing up your belongings to go +away. You have a right to take an hour to unpack them. Tell me, what is +this idea you have that papa is not in earnest? I want to understand it. +He was quite in earnest just now--so good, so good, like sugar! Is it +because you are still angry with him, that you do not want to see him?" + +"No--why should I still be angry? He has made reparation. After all, I +took a certain liberty with him." + +"That is all the more reason. If he is willing to forget it--but I +could tell you something, Tista, something that would persuade you." + +"What is it, my treasure?" asked Gianbattista with a smile, bending down +to look into her eyes. + +"Oh, something very wonderful, something of which you would never dream. +I could scarcely believe my eyes. Imagine, when I went to find him just +now, the door was open. I looked through before I went in, to see if you +were there. Do you know what papa was doing? He was kneeling on the +floor before a beautiful crucifix, such a beautiful one. I think he was +saying prayers, but I could not see his face. He stayed a long time, and +then when I knocked he covered it up, was not that strange? That is the +reason why I persuaded him so easily to change his mind." + +Gianbattista smiled incredulously. He had often seen Marzio kneel on the +floor to get a different view of a large piece of work. + +"He was only looking at the work," he answered. "I have seen him do it +very often. He would laugh if he could hear you, Lucia. Do you imagine +he is such a man as that? Perhaps it would not do him any harm--a little +praying. But it is a kind of medicine he does not relish. No, Lucia, you +have been deceived, believe me." + +The girl's expression changed. She had quite persuaded herself that a +great moral change had taken place in her father that morning, and had +built many hopes upon it. To her sanguine imagination it seemed as +though his whole nature must have changed. She had seen visions of him +as she had always wished he might be, and the visions had seemed likely +to be realised. She had doubted whether she should tell any one the +story of what she regarded as Marzio's conversion, but she had made an +exception in favour of Gianbattista. Gianbattista simply laughed, and +explained the matter away in half a dozen words. Lucia was more deeply +disappointed than any one, listening to her light talk, could have +believed possible. Her face expressed the pain she felt, and she +protested against the apprentice's explanation. + +"It is too bad of you, Tista," she said in hurt tones. "But I do not +think you are right. You have no idea how quietly he knelt, and his +hands were folded on the bench. He bent his head once, and I believe he +kissed the feet--I wish you could have seen it, you would not doubt me. +You think I have invented a silly tale, I am sure you do." + +The tears filled her eyes as she turned away and stared vacantly out of +the window at the dark houses opposite. The sun, which had been shining +until that moment, disappeared behind a mass of driving clouds, and a +few drops of rain began to beat against the panes of glass. The world +seemed suddenly more dreary to Lucia. Gianbattista, who was sensitive +where she was concerned, looked at her, and understood that he had +destroyed something in which she had wished to believe. + +"Well, well, my heart, perhaps you are right," he said softly, putting +his arm round her. + +"No, you do not believe it," she answered. + +"For you, I will believe in anything, in everything--even in Sor +Marzio's devotions," he said, pressing her to his side. "Only--you see, +darling, he was talking in such a way a few moments before--that it +seemed impossible--" + +"Nothing is quite impossible," replied Lucia. "The heart beats fast. +There may be a whole world between one beat and the next." + +"Yes, my love," assented Gianbattista, looking tenderly into her eyes. +"But do you think that between all the beatings of our two hearts there +could ever be a world of change?" + +"Ah--that is different, Tista. Why should we change? We could only +change for worse if we began to love each other less, and that is +impossible. But papa! Why should he not change for the better? Who can +tell you, Tista, dear, that in a moment, in a second, after you were +gone, he was not sorry for all he had done? It may have been in an +instant. Why not?" + +"Things done so very quickly are not done well," answered the young man. +"I know that from my art. You may stamp a thing in a moment with the +die--it is rough, unfinished. It takes weeks to chisel it--" + +"The good God is not a chiseller, Tista." + +The words fell very simply from the young girl's lips, and the +expression of her face did not change. Only the tone of her voice was +grave and quiet, and there was a depth of conviction in it which struck +Gianbattista forcibly. In a short sentence she had defined the +difference between his mode of thought and her own. To her mind +omnipotence was a reality. To him, it was an inconceivable power, the +absurdity of which he sought to demonstrate by comparing the magnitude +claimed for it with the capacities of man. He remained silent for a +moment, as though seeking an answer. He found none, and what he said +expressed an aspiration and not a retort. + +"I sometimes wish that I could believe as you do," he said. "I am sure I +could do much greater things, make much more beautiful angels, if I were +quite sure that they existed." + +"Of course you could," answered Lucia. Then, with a tact beyond her +years, she changed the subject of their talk. She would not endanger the +durability of his aspiration by discussing it. "To go back to what we +were speaking of," she said, "you will go to the workshop this +afternoon, Tista, won't you?" + +"Yes," he said mechanically. "What else should I do? Oh, Lucia, my +darling, I cannot bear this uncertainty," he cried, suddenly giving vent +to his feelings. "Where will it end? He may have changed, he may be all +you say he is to-day, all that he was not yesterday, but do you really +believe he has given up his wild idea? It is not all as it should be, +and that is not his nature. It will come upon us suddenly with something +we do not expect. He will do something--I cannot tell what, but I know +him better than you do. He is cruel, he plots over his work, and then, +when all seems calm, the storm breaks. It will not end well." + +"We must love each other, Tista. Then all will end well. Who can divide +us?" + +"No one," answered the young maid firmly. "But many things may happen +before we are united for ever." + +He was not subject to presentiments, and his self-confident nature +abhorred the prospect of trouble. He had arrived at his conclusion by a +logical process, and there seemed no escape from it. As he had told +Lucia, he knew the character of the chiseller better than the women of +the household could know it, for he had been his constant companion for +years, and was not to be deceived in his estimate of Marzio's temper. A +man's natural disposition shows itself most clearly when he is in his +natural element, at his work, busied in the ordinary occupations of his +life. To such a man as Marzio, the workshop is more sympathetic than the +house. Disagreeing on most points with his family, obliged to be absent +during the whole day, wholly absorbed in the production of works which +the women of his household could not thoroughly appreciate, because they +did not thoroughly understand the ideas which originated them, nor the +methods employed in their execution--under these combined circumstances +it was to be expected that the artist's real feelings would find +expression at the work-bench rather than in the society of his wife and +daughter. Seated by Marzio's side, and learning from him all that could +be learned, Gianbattista had acquired at the same time a thorough +knowledge of his instincts and emotions, which neither Maria Luisa nor +Lucia was able to comprehend. + +Marzio was tenacious of his ideas and of his schemes. Deficient in power +of initiative and in physical courage, he was obstinate beyond all +belief in his adherence to his theories. That he should suddenly yield +to a devotional impulse, fall upon his knees before a crucifix and cry +_meâ culpâ_ over his whole past life, was altogether out of the +question. In Gianbattista's opinion it was almost as impossible that he +should abandon in a moment the plan which he had announced with so much +resolution on the previous evening. It was certain that before declaring +his determination to marry his daughter to the lawyer he must have +ruminated and planned during many days, as it was his habit to do in all +the matters of his life, without consulting any one, or giving the +slightest hint of his intention. Some part of his remarkable talent +depended upon this faculty of thoroughly considering a resolution before +proceeding to carry it out; and it is a part of every really great +talent in every branch of creative art, for it is the result of a great +continuity in the action of the mind combined with the power of +concentration and the virtue of reticence. Many a work has appeared to +the world to be the spontaneous creation of transcendent genius, which +has, in reality, been conceived, studied, and elaborated during years of +silence. Reticence, concentration, and continuity, are characteristics +which cannot influence one part of a man's life without influencing the +rest as well. The habit of studying before proceeding is co-existent +with the necessity of considering before acting; and a man who is +reticent concerning one half of his thoughts is not communicative about +the other half. Nature does not do things by halves, and the nerves +which animate the gesture at the table are the same which guide the +chisel at the work-bench. + +Gianbattista understood Marzio's character, and in his mind tried to +construct the future out of the present. He endeavoured to follow out +what he supposed to be the chiseller's train of thought to its +inevitable conclusion, and the more he reflected on the situation the +more certain he became that Lucia's hypothesis was untenable. It was not +conceivable, under any circumstances whatever, that Marzio should +suddenly turn into a gentle, forgiving creature, anxious only for the +welfare of others, and willing to sacrifice his own inclinations and +schemes to that laudable end. + +At twelve o'clock, Marzio appeared, cold, silent, and preoccupied. His +manner did not encourage the idea entertained by Lucia, though the girl +explained it to herself on the ground that her father was ashamed of +having yielded so easily, and was unwilling to have it thought that he +was too good-natured. There was truth in her idea, and it showed a good +deal of common sense and appreciation of character. But it was not the +whole truth. Marzio not only felt humiliated at having suffered himself +to be overcome by his daughter's entreaties; he regretted it, and wished +he could undo what he had done. It was too late, however. To change his +mind a second time would be to show such weakness as his family had +never witnessed in his actions. + +He ate his food in silence, and the rest of the party ventured but few +remarks. They inwardly congratulated themselves upon the favourable +issue of the affair, in so far as it could be said to have reached a +conclusion, and they all dreaded equally some fresh outburst of anger, +should Marzio's temper be ruffled. Gianbattista himself set the example +of discretion. As for the Signora Pandolfi, she had ready in her pocket +the money her husband had given her in the morning for the purchase of +Lucia's outfit, and she hoped at every moment that Marzio would ask for +it, which would have been a sign that he had abandoned the idea of the +marriage with Carnesecchi. But Marzio never mentioned the subject. He +ate as quickly as he could, swallowed a draught of weak wine and water, +and rose from the table without a word. With a significant nod to Maria +Luisa and Lucia, Gianbattista left his seat and followed the artist +towards the door. Marzio looked round sharply as he heard the steps +behind him. + +"Lucia told me," said the young man simply. "If you wish it, I will come +and work." + +Marzio hesitated a moment, beating his soft felt hat over his arm to +remove the dust. + +"You can go with the men and put up the prince's grating," he said at +last. "The right hand side is ready fitted. If you work hard you can +finish it before night." + +"Very well," answered Gianbattista. "I will see to it. I have the keys +here. In fire minutes I will come across." + +Marzio nodded and went out. Gianbattista returned to the room where the +women were finishing their dinner. + +"It is all right," he said. "I am to put up the grating this afternoon. +Will you come and see it, Sora Luisa?" He spoke to the mother, but he +included the daughter by his look. + +"It is very far," objected the Signora Pandolfi, "and we have been +walking so much this morning. I think this day will never end!" + +"Courage, mamma," said Lucia, "it will do you good to walk. Besides, +there is the omnibus. What did he say, Tista? Am I not right?" + +"Who knows? He is very quiet," replied the apprentice. + +"What is it? What are you right about, my heart?" asked Maria Luisa. + +"She thinks Sor Marzio has suddenly turned into a sugar doll," answered +Gianbattista, with a laugh. "It may be. They say they make sugar out of +all sorts of things nowadays." + +"_Capperi!_ It would be hard!" exclaimed Maria Luisa. "If there is +enough sugar in him to sweeten a teaspoonful of coffee, write to me," +she added ironically. + +"Well--I shall be at the church in an hour, but it will be time enough +if you come at twenty-three o'clock--between twenty-two and +twenty-three." This means between one hour and two hours before sunset. +"The light is good then, for there is a big west window," added +Gianbattista in explanation. + +"We will come before that," said Lucia. "Good-bye, Tista, and take care +not to catch cold in that damp place." + +"And you too," he answered, "cover yourselves carefully." + +With this injunction, and a parting wave of the hand, he left the house, +affecting a gay humour he did not really feel. His invitation to the two +women to join him in the church had another object besides that of +showing them the magnificent gilded grating which was to be put in +place. Gianbattista feared that Marzio had sent him upon this business +for the sake of getting him out of the way, and he did not know what +might happen in his absence. The artist might perhaps choose that time +for going in search of Gasparo Carnesecchi in order to bring him to the +house and precipitate the catastrophe which the apprentice still feared, +in spite of the last events of the morning. It was not unusual for Maria +Luisa and her daughter to accompany him and Marzio when a finished work +was to be set up, and Gianbattista knew that there could be no +reasonable objection to such, a proceeding. + +With an anxious heart he left the house and crossed the street to the +workshop where the men were already waiting for the carts which were to +convey the heavy grating to its destination. The pieces were standing +against the walls, wrapped in tow and brown paper, and immense parcels +lay tied up upon the benches. It was a great piece of work of the +decorative kind, but of the sort for which Marzio cared little. Great +brass castings were chiselled and finished according to his designs +without his touching them with his hands. Huge twining arabesques of +solid metal were prepared in pieces and fitted together with screws that +ran easily in the thread, and then were taken apart again. Then came the +laborious work of gilding by the mercury process, smearing every piece +very carefully with an amalgam of mercury and gold, and putting it into +a gentle, steady fire, until the mercury had evaporated, tearing only +the dull gold in an even deposit on the surfaces. Then the finishing, +the burnishing of the high lights, and the cleaning of the portions +which were to remain dull. Sometimes the gilding of a piece failed, and +had to be begun again, and there was endless trouble in saving the gold, +as well as in preventing the workmen from stealing the amalgam. It was +slow and troublesome work, and Marzio cared little for it, though his +artistic instinct restrained him from allowing it to leave the workshop +until it had been perfected to the highest degree. + +At present the artist stood in the outer room among the wrapped pieces, +his pipe in his mouth and his hands in his pockets. A moment after +Gianhattista had entered, two carts rolled up to the door and the +loading began. + +"Take the drills and some screws to spare," said Marzio, looking into +the bag of tools the foreman had prepared. "One can never tell in these +monstrous things." + +"It will be the first time, if we have to drill a new hole after you +have fitted a piece of work, Maestro Marzio," answered the foreman, who +had an unlimited admiration for his master's genius and foresight. + +"Never mind; do as I tell you. We may all make mistakes in this world," +returned the artist, giving utterance to a moral sentiment which did not +influence him beyond the precincts of the workshop. The workman obeyed, +and added the requisite instruments to the furnishing of his leather +bag. + +"And be careful, Tista," added Marzio, turning to the apprentice. "Look +to the sockets in the marble when you place the large pieces. Measure +them with your compass, you know; if they are too loose you have the +thin plates of brass to pack them; if they are tight, file away, but +finish and smooth it well Don't leave anything rough." + +Gianbattista nodded as he lent a helping hand to the workmen who were +carrying the heavy pieces to the carts. + +"Will you come to the church before night?" he asked. + +"Perhaps. I cannot tell. I am very busy." + +In ten minutes the pieces were all piled upon the two vehicles, and +Gianbattista strode away on foot with the workmen. He had not thought of +changing his dress, and had merely thrown an old overcoat over his grey +woollen blouse. For the time, he was an artisan at work. When working +hours were over, and on Sundays, he loved to put on the stiff high +collar and the cheeked clothes which suggested the garments of the +English tourist. He was then a different person, and, in accordance with +the change, he would smoke a cigarette and pull his cuffs over his +hands, like a real gentleman, adjusting the angle of his hat from time +to time, and glancing at his reflection in the shop windows as he passed +along. But work was work; it was a pity to spoil good clothes with +handling tools and castings, and jostling against the men, and, +moreover, the change affected his nature. He could not handle a hammer +or a chisel when he felt like a real gentleman, and when he felt like an +artisan he must enjoy the liberty of being able to tuck up his sleeves +and work with a will. At the present moment, too, he was proud of being +in sole charge of the work, and he could not help thinking what a fine +thing it would be to be married to Lucia and to be the master of the +workshop. With the sanguine enthusiasm of a very young man who loves his +occupation, he put his whole soul into what he was to do, assured that +every skilful stroke of the hammer, every difficulty overcome, brought +him nearer to the woman he loved. + +Marzio entered the inner studio when Gianbattista was gone, leaving a +boy who was learning to cut little files--the preliminary to the +chiseller's profession--in charge of the outer workshop. The artist shut +himself in and bolted the door, glad to be alone with the prospect of +not being disturbed during the whole afternoon. He seemed not to +hesitate about the work he intended to do, for he immediately took in +hand the crucifix, laid it upon the table, and began to study it, using +a lens from time to time as he scrutinised each detail. His rough hair +fell forward over his forehead, and his shoulders rounded themselves +till he looked almost deformed. + +He had suffered very strong emotions during the last twenty-four +hours--enough to have destroyed the steadiness of an ordinary man's +hand; but with Marzio manual skill was the first habit of nature, and it +would have been hard to find a mental impression which could shake his +physical nerves. His mind, however, worked rapidly and almost fiercely, +while his eyes searched the minute lines of the work he was examining. + +Uppermost in his thoughts was a confused sense of humiliation and of +exasperation against his brother. The anger he felt had nearly been +expressed in a murderous deed not more than two or three hours earlier, +and the wish to strike was still present in his mind. He twisted his +lips into an ugly smile as he recalled the scene in every detail; but +the determination was different from the reality and more in accordance +with his feelings. He realised again that moment during which he had +held the sharp instrument over his brother's head, and the thought which +had then passed so rapidly through his brain recurred again with +increased clearness. He remembered that beneath the iron-bound box in +the corner there was a trap-door which descended to the unused cellar, +for his workshop had in former times been a wine-shop, and he had hired +the cellar with it. One sharp blow would have done the business. A few +quick movements and Paolo's body would have been thrown down the dark +steps beneath, the trap closed again, the safe replaced in its position. +It was eleven o'clock then, or thereabouts. He would have sent the +workmen to their dinner, and would have returned to the inner studio. +They would have supposed afterwards that Don Paolo had left the place +with him. He would have gone home and would have said that Paolo had +left him--or, no--he would have said that Paolo had not been there, for +some one might see him leave the workshop alone. In the night he would +have returned, his family thinking he had gone to meet his friends, as +he often did. When the streets were quiet he would have carried the body +away upon the hand-cart that stood in the entry of the outer room. It +was not far--scarcely three hundred yards, allowing for the turnings--to +the place where the Via Montella ends in a mud bank by the dark river. A +deserted neighbourhood, too--a turn to the left, the low trees of the +Piazza de' Branca, the dark, short, straight street to the water. At one +o'clock after midnight who was stirring? It would all have been so +simple, so terribly effectual. + +And then there would have been no more Paolo, no more domestic +annoyances, no more of the priest's smooth-faced disapprobation and +perpetual opposition in the house. He would have soon brought Maria +Luisa and Lucia to reason. What could they do without the support of +Paolo? They were only women after all. As for Gianbattista, if once the +poisonous influence of Paolo were removed--and how surely +removed!--Marzio's lips twisted as though he were tasting the sourness +of failure, like an acid fruit--if once the priest were gone, +Gianbattista would come back to his old ways, to his old scorn of +priests in general, of churches, of oppression, of everything that +Marzio hated. He might marry Lucia then, and be welcome. After all, he +was a finer fellow for the pretty girl than Gasparo Carnesecchi, with +his claw fingers and his vinegar salad. That was only a farce, that +proposal about the lawyer--the real thing was to get rid of Paolo. There +could be no healthy liberty of thought in the house while this fellow +was sneaking in and out at all hours. Tumble Paolo into a quiet +grave--into the river with a sackful of old castings at his neck--there +would be peace then, and freedom. Marzio ground his teeth as he thought +how nearly he had done the thing, and how miserably he had failed. It +had been the inspiration of the moment, and the details had appeared +clear at once to his mind. Going over them he found that he had not been +mistaken. If Paolo came again, and he had the chance, he would do it. It +was perhaps all the better that he had found time to weigh the matter. + +But would Paolo come again? Would he ever trust himself alone in the +workshop? Had he guessed, when he turned so suddenly and saw the weapon +in the air, that the blow was on the very point of descending? Or had +he been deceived by the clumsy excuse Marzio had made about the sum +shining in his eyes? + +He had remained calm, or Marzio tried to think so. But the artist +himself had been so much moved during the minutes that followed that he +could hardly feel sure of Paolo's behaviour. It was a chilling thought, +that Paolo might have understood and might have gone away feeling that +his life had been saved almost by a miracle. He would not come back, the +cunning priest, in that case; he would not risk his precious skin in +such company. It was not to be expected--a priest was only human, after +all, like any other man. Marzio cursed his ill luck again as he bent +over his work. What a moment this would be if Paolo would take it into +his head to make another visit! Even the men were gone. He would send +the one boy who remained to the church where Gianbattista was working, +with a message. They would be alone then, he and Paolo. The priest might +scream and call for help--the thick walls would not let any sound +through them. It would be even better than in the morning, when he had +lost his opportunity by a moment, by the twinkling of an eye. + +"They say hell is paved with good intentions--or lost opportunities," +muttered Marzio. "I will send Paolo with the next opportunity to help in +the paving." + +He laughed softly at his grim joke, and bent lower over the crucifix. +By this time he had determined what to do, for his reflections had not +interfered with his occupation. Removing two tiny silver screws which +fitted with the utmost exactness in the threads, he loosened the figure +from the cross, removed the latter to a shelf on the wall, and returning +laid the statue on a soft leathern pad, surrounding it with sand-bags +till it was propped securely in the position he required. Then he took a +very small chisel, adjusted it with the greatest care, and tapped upon +it with the round wooden handle of his little hammer. At each touch he +examined the surface with his lens to assure himself that he was making +the improvement he contemplated. It was very delicate work, and as he +did it he felt a certain pride in the reflection that he could not have +detected the place where improvement was possible when he had worked +upon the piece ten years ago. He found it now, in the infinitesimal +touches upon the expression of the face, in the minute increase in the +depressions and accentuated lines in the anatomy of the figure. As he +went over each portion he became more and more certain that though he +could not at present do better in the way of idea and general execution, +he had nevertheless gained in subtle knowledge of effects and in skill +of handling the chisel upon very delicate points. The certainty gave +him the real satisfaction of legitimate pride. He knew that he had +reached the zenith of his capacities. His old wish to keep the crucifix +for himself began to return. + +If he disposed of Paolo he might keep his work. Only Paolo had seen it. +The absurd want of logic in the conclusion did not strike him. He had +not pledged himself to his brother to give this particular crucifix to +the Cardinal, and if he had, he could easily have found a reason for +keeping it back. But he was too much accustomed to think that Paolo was +always in the way of his wishes, to look at so simple a matter in such a +simple light. + +"It is strange," he said to himself. "The smallest things seem to point +to it. If he would only come!" + +Again his mind returned to the contemplation of the deed, and again he +reviewed all the circumstances necessary for its safe execution. What an +inspiration, he thought, and what a pity it had not found shape in fact +at the very moment when it had presented itself! He considered why he +had never thought of it before, in all the years, as a means of freeing +himself effectually from the despotism he detested. It was a despotism, +he reflected, and no other word expressed it. He recalled many scenes in +his home, in which Paolo had interfered. He remembered how one Sunday, +in the afternoon, they had all been together before going to walk in +the Corso, and how he had undertaken to demonstrate to Maria Luisa and +Lucia the folly of wasting time in going to church on Sundays. He had +argued gently and reasonably, he thought. But suddenly Paolo had +interrupted him, saying that he would not allow Marzio to compare a +church to a circus, nor priests to mountebanks and tight-rope dancers. +Why not? Then the women had begun to scream and cry, and to talk of his +blasphemous language until he could not hear himself speak. It was +Paolo's fault. If Paolo had not been there the women would have listened +patiently enough, and would doubtless have reaped some good from his +reasonable discourse. On another occasion Marzio had declared that Lucia +should never be taught anything about Christianity, that the definition +of God was reason, that Garibaldi had baptized one child in the name of +Reason and that he, Marzio, could baptize another quite as effectually. +Paolo had interfered, and Maria Luisa had screamed. The contest had +lasted nearly a month, at the end of which tune, Marzio had been obliged +to abandon the uneven contest, vowing vengeance in some shape for the +future. + +Many and many such scenes rose to his memory, and in every one Paolo was +the opposer, the enemy of his peace, the champion of all that he hated +and despised. In great things and small his brother had been his +antagonist from his early manhood, through eighteen years of married +life to the present day. And yet, without Paolo, he could hardly have +hoped to find himself in his present state of fortune. + +This was one of the chief sources of his humiliation in his own eyes. +With such a character as his, it is eminently true that it is harder to +forgive a benefit than an injury. He might have felt less bitterly +against his brother if he had not received at his hands the orders and +commissions which had turned into solid money in the bank. It was hard +to face Paolo, knowing that he owed two-thirds of his fortune to such a +source. If he could get rid of the priest he would be relieved at once +from the burden of this annoyance, of this financial subjection, as well +of all that embittered his life. He pictured to himself his wife and +daughter listening respectfully to his harangues and beginning to +practise his principles, Gianbattista, an eloquent member of the society +in the inner room of the old inn, reformed, purged from his sneaking +fondness for Paolo--since Paolo would not be in the world any +longer--and ultimately married to Lucia, the father of children who +should all be baptized in the name of Reason, and the worthy successor +of himself, Marzio Pandolfi. + +Scrutinising the statue under his lens, he detected a slight +imperfection in the place where one of the sharp thorns touched the +silver forehead of the beautiful, tortured head. He looked about for a +tool fine enough for the work, but none suited his wants. He took up the +long fine-pointed punch he had thrown back upon the table after the +scene in the morning. It was too long, and over sharp, but by turning it +sideways it would do the work under his dexterous fingers. + +"Strange!" he muttered, as he tapped upon the tool. "It is like a +consecration!" + +When he had made the stroke he dropped the instrument into the pocket of +his blouse, as though fearing to lose it. He had no occasion to use it +again, though he went on with his work during several hours. + +The thoughts which had passed through his brain recurred, and did not +diminish in clearness. On the contrary, it was as though the passing +impulse of the morning had grown during those short hours into a settled +and unchangeable resolution. Once he rose from his stool, and going to +the corner, dragged away the iron-bound safe from its place. A rusty +ring lay flat in a little hollow in the surface of the trap-door. Marzio +bent over it with a pale face and gleaming eyes. It seemed to him as +though, if he looked round, he should see Paolo's body lying on the +floor, ready to be dropped into the space below. He raised the wood and +set the trap back against the wall, peering down into the black depths. +A damp smell came up to his nostrils from the moist staircase. He struck +a match, and held it into the opening, to see in what direction the +stairs led down. + +Something moved behind him and made a little noise. With a short cry of +horror Marzio sprang back from the opening and looked round. It was as +though the body of the murdered man had stirred upon the floor. His +overstrained imagination terrified him, and his eyes started from his +head. He examined the bench and saw the cause of the sound in a moment. +The silver Christ, unsteadily propped in the position in which he had +just placed it, had fallen upon one side of the pad by its own weight. + +Marzio's heart still beat desperately as he went back to the hole and +carefully reclosed the trap-door, dragging the heavy safe to its +position over the ring. Trembling violently, he sat down upon his stool +and wiped the cold perspiration from his forehead. Then, as he laid the +figure upon the cushion, he glanced uneasily behind him and at the +corner. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +When Don Paolo had shut the door of the studio and found himself once +more in the open street, he felt a strangely unpleasant sensation about +the heart, and for a few moments he was very pale. He had suffered a +shock, and in spite of his best efforts to explain away what had +occurred, he knew that he had been in danger. Any one who, being himself +defenceless, has suddenly seen a pistol pointed at him in earnest, or a +sharp weapon raised in the air to strike him, knows the feeling well +enough. Probably he has afterwards tried to reason upon what he felt in +that moment, and has failed to come to any conclusion except the very +simple one, that he was badly frightened. Hector was no coward, but he +let Achilles chase him three times round Troy before he could make up +his mind to stand and fight, and but for Athena he might have run even +further. And yet Hector was armed at all points for battle. He was badly +frightened, brave man as he was. + +But when the first impression was gone, and Paolo was walking quickly +in the direction of the palace where the Cardinal lived, he stoutly +denied to himself that Marzio had meant to harm him. In the first place, +he could find no adequate reason for such an attempt upon his life. It +was true that his relations with his brother had not been very amicable +for some time; but between quarrelling and doing murder, Paolo saw a +gulf too wide to be easily overstepped, even by such a person as Marzio. +Then, too, the good man was unwilling to suspect any one of bad +intentions, still less of meditating a crime. This consideration, +however, was not, logically speaking, in Marzio's favour; for since +Paolo was less suspicious than other men, it must necessarily have +needed a severe shock to shake his faith in his brother's innocence. He +had seem the weapon in the air, and had seen also the murderous look in +the artist's eyes. + +"I had better not think anything more about it," he said to himself, +fearing lest he should think anything unjust. + +So he went on his way towards the palace, and tried to think about +Gianbattista and Lucia, their marriage and their future life. The two +young faces came up before him as he walked, and he smiled calmly, +forgetting what he had so recently passed through, in the pleasant +contemplation of a happiness not his own. He reached his rooms, high up +at the top of the ancient building, and he sighed with a sense of +relief as he sat down upon the battered old chair before his +writing-table. + +Presently the Cardinal sent for him. Don Paolo rose and carefully +brushed the dust from his cassock and mantle, and smoothed the long silk +nap of his hat. He was a very neat man and scrupulous as to his +appearance. Moreover, he regarded the Cardinal with a certain awe, as +being far removed beyond the sphere of ordinary humanity, even though he +had known him intimately for years. This idea of the great importance of +the princes of the Church is inherent in the Roman mind. There is no +particular reason why it should be eradicated, since it exists, and does +no harm to any one, but it is a singular fact and worthy of remark. It +is one of those many relics of old times, which no amount of outward +change has been able to obliterate. A cardinal in Rome occupies a +position wholly distinct from that of any other dignitary or hereditary +noble. It is not so elsewhere, except perhaps in some parts of the +south. The Piedmontese scoffs at cardinals, because he scoffs at the +church and at all religion in general. The Florentine shrugs his +shoulders because cardinals represent Rome, and Rome, with all that is +in it, is hateful to Florence, and always was. But the true Roman, even +when he has adopted the ideas of the new school, still feels an +unaccountable reverence for the scarlet mantle. There is a +dignity--often, now, very far from magnificent--about the household of a +cardinal, which is not found elsewhere. The servants are more grave and +tread more softly, the rooms are darker and more severe, the atmosphere +is more still and the silence more intense, than in the houses of lay +princes. A man feels in the very air the presence of a far-reaching +power, noiselessly working to produce great results. + +Don Paolo descended the stairs and entered the apartments through the +usual green baize door, which swung upon its hinges by its own weight +behind him. He passed through several large halls, scantily and sombrely +furnished, in the last of which stood the throne chair, turned to the +wall, beneath a red canopy. Beyond this great reception-chamber, and +communicating with it by a low masked door, was the Cardinal's study, a +small room, very high and lighted by a single tall window which opened +upon an inner court of the palace. The furniture was very simple, +consisting of a large writing-table, a few high-backed chairs, and the +Cardinal's own easy-chair, covered with dingy leather and well worn by +use. On the dark green walls hung two engravings, one a portrait of Pius +IX., the other a likeness of Leo XIII. The Cardinal himself sat in the +arm-chair, holding a newspaper spread out upon his knees. + +"Good-day, Don Paolo," he said, in a pleasant, but not very musical +voice. + +His Eminence was a man about sixty years of age, hale and strong in +appearance, but below the middle height and somewhat inclining to +stoutness. His face was round, and the complexion very clear, which, +with his small and bright brown eyes, gave him a look of cheerful +vitality. Short white hair fringed his head where it was not covered by +the small scarlet skull-cap. He wore a purple cassock with scarlet +buttons and a scarlet silk mantle, which fell in graceful folds over one +arm of the chair. + +"Good-day, Eminence," answered Don Paolo, touching the great ruby ring +with his lips. Then, in obedience to a gesture, the priest sat down upon +one of the high-backed chairs. + +"What weather have we to-day?" asked the Cardinal after a pause. + +"Scirocco, Eminence." + +"Ah, I thought so--especially this morning, very early. It is very +disagreeable. Since Padre Secchi found that the scirocco really brings +the sand of the desert with it, I dislike it more than ever. And what +have you been doing, Don Paolo? Have you been to see about the +crucifix?" + +"I spoke to my brother about it last night, Eminence. He said he would +do his best to make it in the time, but that he would have preferred to +have a little longer." + +"He is a good artist, your brother," said the Cardinal, nodding his head +slowly and joining his hands, while the newspaper slipped to the floor. + +"A good artist," repeated Don Paolo, stooping to pick up the sheet. "I +have just seen his best work--a crucifix such as your Eminence wishes. +Indeed, he proposed that you should take it, for he says he can make +nothing better." + +"Let us see, let us see," answered the prelate, in a tone which showed +that he did not altogether like the proposal. "You say he has it already +made. Tell me, has your brother much work to do just now?" + +"Not much, Eminence. He has just finished the grating of a chapel for +some church or other. I think I saw a silver ewer begun upon his table." + +"I thought that perhaps he had not time for my crucifix." + +"But he is an artist, my brother!" cried the priest, who resented the +idea that Marzio might wish to palm off an ill-made object in order to +save time. "He is a good artist, he loves the work, he always does his +best! When he says he can do nothing better than what he has already +finished, I believe him." + +"So much the better," replied the Cardinal. "But we must see the work +before deciding. You seem to have great faith in your brother's good +intentions, Don Paolo. Is it not true? Dear me! You were almost angry +with me for suggesting that he might be too busy to undertake my +commission." + +"Angry! I angry? Your Eminence is unjust. Marzio puts much conscience +into his work. That is all." + +"Ah, he is a man of conscience? I did not know. But, being your brother, +he should be, Don Paolo." The prelate's bright brown eyes twinkled. + +Paolo was silent, though he bowed his head in acknowledgment of the +indirect praise. + +"You do not say anything," observed the Cardinal, looking at his +secretary with a smile. + +"He is a man of convictions," answered Paolo, at last. + +"That is better than nothing, better than being lukewarm. 'Because thou +art lukewarm,' you know the rest." + +"_Incipiam te evomere_," replied the priest mechanically. "Marzio is not +lukewarm." + +"_Frigidusne?_" asked the Cardinal. + +"Hardly that." + +"_An calidus?_" + +"Not very, Eminence. That is, not exactly." + +"But then, in heaven's name, what is he?" laughed the prelate. "If he is +not cold, nor hot, nor lukewarm, what is he? He interests me. He is a +singular case." + +"He is a man who has his opinions," answered Don Paolo. "What shall I +say? He is so good an artist that he is a little crazy about other +things." + +"His opinions are not ours, I suppose. I have sometimes thought as much +from the way you speak of him. Well, well--he is not old; his opinions +will change. You are very much attached to your brother, Don Paolo, are +you not?" + +"We are brothers, Eminence." + +"So were Cain and Abel, if I am not mistaken," observed the Cardinal. +Paolo looked about the room uneasily. "I only mean to say," continued +the prelate, "that men may be brothers and yet not love each other." + +"_Come si fà?_ What can one do about it?" ejaculated Paolo. + +"You must try and influence him. You must do your best to make him +change his views. You must make an effort to bring him to a better state +of mind." + +"Eh! I know," answered the priest. "I do my best, but I do not succeed. +He thinks I interfere. I am not San Filippo Neri. Why should I conceal +the matter? Marzio is not a bad man, but he is crazy about what he calls +politics. He believes in a new state of things. He thinks that +everything is bad and ought to be destroyed. Then he and his friends +would build up the ideal state." + +"There would soon be nothing but equality to eat--fried, roast and +boiled. I have heard that there are socialists even here in Rome. I +cannot imagine what they want." + +"They want to divide the wealth of the country among themselves," +answered Don Paolo. "What strange ideas men have!" + +"To divide the wealth of the country they have only to subtract a paper +currency from an inflated national debt. There would be more +unrighteousness than mammon left after such a proceeding. It reminds me +of a story I heard last year. A deputation of socialists waited upon a +high personage in Vienna. Who knows what for? But they went. They told +him that it was his duty to divide his wealth amongst the inhabitants of +the city. And he said they were quite right. 'Look here,' said he, 'I +possess about seven hundred thousand florins. It chances that Vienna has +about seven hundred thousand inhabitants. Here, you have each one +florin. It is your share. Good-morning.' You see he was quite just. So, +perhaps, if your brother had his way, and destroyed everything, and +divided the proceeds equally, he would have less afterwards than he had +before. What do you think?" + +"It is quite true, Eminence. But I am afraid he will never understand +that. He has very unchangeable opinions." + +"They will change all the more suddenly when he is tired of them. Those +ideas are morbid, like the ravings of a man in a fever. When the fever +has worn itself out, there comes a great sense of lassitude, and a +desire for peace." + +"Provided it ever really does wear itself out," said Don Paolo, sadly. + +"Eh! it will, some day. With such political ideas, I suppose your +brother is an atheist, is he not?" + +"I hope he believes in something," replied the priest evasively. + +"And yet he makes a good living by manufacturing vessels for the service +of the Church," continued the Cardinal, with a smile. "Why did you never +tell me about your brother's peculiar views, Don Paolo?" + +"Why should I trouble you with such matters? I am sorry I have said so +much, for no one can understand exactly what Marzio is, who does not +know him. It is an injury to him to let your Eminence know that he is a +freethinker. And yet he is not a bad man, I believe. He has no vices +that I know of, except a sharp tongue. He is sober and works hard. That +is much in these days. Though he is mistaken, he will doubtless come to +his senses, as you say. I do not hate him; I would not injure him." + +"Why do you think it can harm him to let me about him? Do you think that +I, or others, would not employ him if we knew all about him?" + +"It would seem natural that your Eminence should hesitate to do so." + +"Let us see, Don Paolo. There are some bad priests in the world, I +suppose; are there not?" + +"It is to be feared--" + +"Yes, there are. There are bad priests in all forms of religion. Yet +they say mass. Of course, very often the people know that they are bad. +Do you think that the mass is less efficacious for the salvation of +those who attend it, provided that they themselves pray with the same +earnestness?" + +"No; certainly not. For otherwise it would be necessary that the people +should ascertain whether the priest is in a state of grace every time he +celebrates; and since their salvation would then, depend upon that, they +would be committing a sin if they did not examine the relative morality +of different priests and select the most saintly one." + +"Well then, so much the more is it indifferent whether the inanimate +vessels we use are chiselled by a saint or an unbeliever. Their use +sanctifies them, not the moral goodness of the artist. For, by your own +argument, we should otherwise he committing a sin if we did not find +out the most saintly men and set them to silver-chiselling instead of +ordaining them bishops and archbishops. It would take a long time to +build a church if you only employed masons who were in a state of +grace." + +"Well, but would you not prefer that the artist should be a good man?" + +"For his own sake, Don Paolo, for his own sake. The thing he makes is +not at all less worthy if he is bad. Are there not in many of our +churches pillars that stood in Roman temples? Is not the canopy over the +high altar in Saint Peter's made of the bronze roof of the Pantheon? And +besides, what is goodness? We are all bad, but some are worse than +others. It is not our business to judge, or to distribute commissions +for works of art to those whom we think the best among men, as one gives +medals and prizes to industrious and well-behaved children." + +"That is very clear, and very true," answered the priest. + +He did not really want to discuss the question of Marzio's belief or +unbelief. Perhaps, if he had not been disturbed in mind by the events of +the morning he would have avoided the subject, as he had often done +before when the Cardinal had questioned him. But to-day he was not quite +himself, and being unable to tell a falsehood of any kind he had spoken +more of idle truth than he had wished. He felt that he had perhaps been +unjust to his brother. He looked ill at ease, and the Cardinal noticed +it, for he was a kindly man and very fond of his secretary. + +"You must not let the matter trouble you," said the prelate, after a +pause. "I am an inquisitive old man, as you know, and I like to be +acquainted with my friends' affairs. But I am afraid I have annoyed +you--" + +"Oh! Your Eminence could never--" + +"Never intentionally," interrupted the Cardinal. "But it is human to +err, and it is especially human to bore one's fellow-creatures with +inquisitive questions. We all have our troubles, Don Paolo, and I am +yours. Some day, perhaps, you will be a cardinal yourself--who knows? I +hope so. And then you will have an excellent secretary, who will be much +too good, even for you, and whom you can torture by the hour together +with inquiries about his relations. Well, if it is only for your sake, +Sor Marzio shall never have any fewer commissions, even if he turn out +more in earnest with his socialism than most of those fellows." + +"You are too kind," said Paolo simply. + +He was very grateful for the kindly words, for he knew that they were +meant and not said merely in jest. The idea that he had perhaps injured +Marzio in the Cardinal's estimation was very painful to him, in spite +of what he had felt that morning. Moreover, the prelate's plain, +common-sense view of the case reassured him, and removed a doubt that +had long ago disturbed his peace of mind. On reflection it seemed true +enough, and altogether reasonable, but Paolo knew in his heart what a +sensation of repulsion, not to say loathing, he would experience if he +should ever be called upon to use in the sacred services a vessel of his +brother's making. The thought that those long, cruel fingers of Marzio's +had hammered and worked out the delicate design would pursue him and +disturb his thoughts. The sound of Marzio's voice, mocking at all the +priest held holy, would be in his ears and would mingle with the very +words of the canon. + +But then, provided that he himself were not obliged to use his brother's +chalices, what could it matter? The Cardinal did not know the artist, +and whatever picture he might make to himself of the man would be +shadowy and indistinct. The feeling, then, was his own and quite +personal. It would be the height of superstitious folly to suppose that +any evil principle could be attached to the silver and gold because they +were chiselled by impious hands. A simple matter this, but one which had +many a time distressed Don Paolo. + +There was a long pause after the priest's last words, during which the +prelate looked at him from time to time, examined his own white hands, +and turned his great ruby ring round his finger. + +"Let us go to work," he said at length, as though dismissing the subject +of the conversation from his mind. + +Paolo fetched a large portfolio of papers and established himself at the +writing-table, while the Cardinal examined the documents one by one, and +dictated what he had to say about them to his secretary. During two +hours or more the two men remained steadily at their task. When the last +paper was read and the last note upon it written out, the Cardinal rose +from his arm-chair and went to the window. There was no sound in the +room but that of the sand rattling upon the stiff surface, as Paolo +poured it over the wet ink in the old-fashioned way, shook it about and +returned it to the little sandbox by the inkstand. Suddenly the old +churchman turned round and faced the priest. + +"One of these days, when you and I are asleep out there at San Lorenzo, +there will be a fight, my friend," he said. + +"About what, Eminence?" asked the other. + +"About silver chalices, perhaps. About many things. It will be a great +fight, such as the world has never seen before." + +"I do not understand," said Don Paolo. + +"Your brother represents an idea," answered the Cardinal. "That idea is +the subversion of all social principle. It is an idea which must spread, +because there is an enormous number of depraved men in the world who +have a very great interest in the destruction of law. The watchword of +that party will always be 'there is no God,' because God is order, and +they desire disorder. They will, it is true, always be a minority, +because the greater part of mankind are determined that order shall not +be destroyed. But those fellows will fight to the death, because they +know that in that battle there will be no quarter for the vanquished. It +will be a mighty struggle and will last long, but it will be decisive, +and will perhaps never be revived when it is once over. Men will kill +each other where-ever they meet, during months and years, before the end +comes, for all men who say that there is a God in Heaven will be upon +the one side, and all those who say there is no God will be upon the +other." + +"May we not be alive to see anything so dreadful!" exclaimed Don Paolo +devoutly. + +"No, you and I shall not see it. But those little children who are +playing with chestnuts down there in the court--they will see it. The +world is uneasy and dreads the very name of war, lest war should become +universal if it once breaks out. Tell your brother that." + +"It is what he longs for. He is always speaking of it." + +"Then it is inevitable. When many millions like him have determined that +there shall be evil done, it cannot long be warded off. Their blood be +on their own heads." + +When Don Paolo had climbed again to his lonely lodging, half an hour +later, he pondered long upon what the Cardinal had said to him, and the +longer he thought of it, the more truth there seemed to be in the +prediction. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Gianbattista reached the church in which he was to do his work, and +superintended the unloading of the carts. It was but a little after one +o'clock, and he expected to succeed in putting up the grating before +night. The pieces were carefully carried to the chapel where they were +to be placed, and laid down in the order in which they would be needed. +It took a long time to arrange them, and the apprentice was glad he had +advised Maria Luisa and Lucia to come late. It would have wearied them, +he reflected, to assist at the endless fitting and screwing of the +joints, and they would have had no impression of the whole until they +were tired of looking at the details. + +For hours he laboured with the men, not allowing anything to be done +without his supervision, and doing more himself than any of the workmen. +He grew hot and interested as the time went on, and he began to doubt +whether the work could be finished before sunset. The workmen +themselves, who preferred a job of this kind to the regular occupation +of the studio, seemed in no hurry, though they did what was expected of +them quietly and methodically. Each one of them was calculating, as +nearly as possible, the length of time needed to drive a screw, to lift +a piece into position, to finish off a shank till it fitted closely in +the prepared socket. Half an hour wasted by driblets to-day, would +ensure them for the morrow the diversion of an hour or two in coming to +the church and returning from it. + +From time to time Gianbattista glanced towards the door, and as the +hours advanced his look took the same direction more often. At last, as +the rays of the evening sun fell through the western window, he heard +steps, and was presently rewarded by the appearance of the Signora +Pandolfi, followed closely by Lucia. They greeted Gianbattista from a +distance, for the church being under repairs was closed to the public, +and had not been in use for years, so that the sound of voices did not +seem unnatural nor irreverent. + +"It is not finished," said Gianbattista, coming forward to meet them; +"but you can see what it will be like. Another hour will be enough." + +At that moment Don Paolo suddenly appeared, walking fast up the aisle in +pursuit of the two women. They all greeted him with an exclamation of +surprise. + +"Eh!" he exclaimed, "you are astonished to see me? I was passing and saw +you go in, and as I knew about the grating, I guessed what you came for +and followed you. Is Marzio here?" + +"No," answered Gianbattista. "He said he might perhaps come, but I doubt +it. I fancy he wants to be alone." + +"Yes," replied Don Paolo thoughtfully, "I daresay he wants to be alone." + +"He has had a good many emotions to-day," remarked Gianbattista. "We +shall see how he will be this evening. Of course, you have heard the +news, Don Paolo? Besides, you see I am at work, so that the first great +difference has been settled. Lucia managed it--she has an eloquence, +that young lady! She could preach better than you, Don Paolo." + +"She is a little angel," exclaimed the priest, tapping his niece's dark +cheek with his white hand. + +"That is four to-day!" cried Lucia, laughing. "First mamma, then +papa--figure to yourself papa!--then Tista, and now Uncle Paolo. Eh! if +the wings don't grow before the Ave Maria--" + +She broke off with a pretty motion of her shoulders, showing her white +teeth and turning to look at Gianbattista. Then the young man took them +to see the grating. A good portion of it was put up, and it produced a +good effect. The whole thing was about ten or twelve feet high, +consisting of widely-set gilt bars, between which were fastened large +arabesques and scrolls. On each side of the gate, in the middle, an +angel supported a metal drapery, of which the folds were in reality of +separate pieces, but which, as it now appeared, all screwed together in +its place, had a very free and light effect. It was work of a +conventional kind and of a conventional school, but even here Marzio's +great talent had shown itself in his rare knowledge of effects and free +modelling; the high lights were carefully chosen and followed out, and +the deep shadows of the folds in dull gold gave a richness to the +drapery not often found in this species of decoration. The figures of +the angels, too, were done by an artist's hand--conventional, like the +rest, but free from heaviness or anatomical defects. + +"It is not bad," said Don Paolo, in a tone which surprised every one. He +was not often slow to praise his brother's work. + +"How, not bad? Is that all you say?" asked Gianbattista, in considerable +astonishment. He felt, too, that as Marzio and he worked together, he +deserved acme part of the credit. "It is church decoration of course, +and not a 'piece,' as we say, but I would like to see anybody do +better." + +"Well, well, Tista, forgive me," he answered, "The fact is, Marzio +showed me something to-day so wonderful, that I see no beauty in +anything else--or, at least, not so much beauty as I ought to see. I +went in to find him again, you know, just as Lucia was leaving, and he +showed me a crucifix--a marvel, a wonder!--he said he had had it a long +time, put away in a box." + +"I never saw it," said Tista. + +"I did!" exclaimed Lucia. She regretted the words as soon as she had +spoken them, and bit her lip. She had not told her mother what she had +told Gianbattista. + +"When did you see it? Is it so very beautiful?" asked the Signora +Pandolfi. + +"Oh, I only saw it through the door, when I went," she answered quickly. +"The door was open, but I knocked and I saw him hide it. But I think it +was very fine--splendid! What did you talk about, Uncle Paolo? You have +not told us about your visit. I whispered to you that everything was +settled, but you looked as though you did not understand. What did you +say to each other?" + +"Oh, nothing--nothing of any importance," said Don Paolo in some +embarrassment. He suddenly recollected that, owing to his brother's +strange conduct, he had left the studio without saying a word about the +errand which had brought him. "Nothing," he repeated. "We talked about +the crucifix, and Marzio gave a very long explanation of the way it was +made. Besides, as Lucia says, she had told me that everything was +settled, and Marzio spoke very quietly." + +This was literally true. Marzio's words had been gentle enough. It was +his action that had at first startled Don Paolo, and had afterwards set +him thinking and reflecting on the events of those few minutes. But he +would not for anything in the world have allowed any of his three +companions to know what had happened. He was himself not sure. Marzio +had excused the position of his hand by saying that the sun was in his +eyes. There was something else in his eyes, thought Paolo; a look of +hatred and of eager desire for blood which it was horrible to remember. +Perhaps he ought not to remember it, for he might, be mistaken, after +all, and it was a great sin to suspect any one of wishing to commit such +a crime; but nevertheless; and in spite of his desire that it might not +have been true, Don Paolo was conscious of having received the +impression, and he was sure that it had not been the result of any +foolish fright. He was not a cowardly, man, and although his physical +courage had rarely been put to the test, no one who knew him would have +charged him with the contemptible timidity which imagines danger +gratuitously, and is afraid where no fear is. He was of a better temper +than Marzio, who had been startled so terribly by a slight noise when +his back was turned. And yet he had been profoundly affected by the +scene of the morning, and had not yet entirely recovered his serenity. + +Lucia noticed the tone of his answer, and suspected that something had +happened, though her suspicion took a direction exactly opposed to the +fact. She remembered what she had seen herself, and recalling the fact +that Paolo had entered the workshop just as she was leaving it, she saw +nothing unnatural in the supposition that her father's conversation with +her uncle had taken a religious tone. She used the word religion to +express to herself what she meant. She thought it quite possible that +after Marzio had been so suddenly softened, and evidently affected, by +her own fainting fit, and after having been absorbed in some sort of +devotional meditation, he might have spoken of his feelings to Don +Paolo, who in his turn would have seized the opportunity for working +upon his brother's mind. Paolo, she thought, would naturally not care to +speak lightly of such an occurrence, and his somewhat constrained manner +at the present moment might be attributed to this cause. To prevent any +further questions from her mother or Gianbattista, Lucia interposed. + +"Yes," she said, "he seemed very quiet. He hardly spoke at dinner. But +Tista says he may perhaps be here before long, and then we shall know." + +It was not very clear what was to be known, and Lucia hastened to direct +their attention to the new grating. Gianbattista returned to work with +the men, and the two women and Don Paolo stood looking on, occasionally +shifting their position to get a better view of the work. Gianbattista +was mounted upon a ladder which leaned against one of the marble pillars +at the entrance of the side chapel closed by the grating. A heavy piece +of arabesque work had just been got into its place, and was tied with +cords while the young man ran a screw through the prepared holes to +fasten one side of the fragment to the bar. He was awkwardly placed, but +he had sent the men to uncover and clean the last pieces, at a little +distance from where he was at work. The three visitors observed him with +interest, probably remarking to themselves that it must need good nerves +to maintain one's self in such a position. Don Paolo, especially, was +more nervous than the rest, owing, perhaps, to what had occurred in the +morning. All at once, as he watched Gianbattista's twisted attitude, as +the apprentice strained himself and turned so as to drive the screw +effectually, the foot of the ladder seemed to move a little on the +smooth marble pavement. With a quick movement Don Paolo stepped forward, +with the intention of grasping the ladder. + +Hearing the sound of rapid steps, Gianbattista turned his head and a +part of his body to see what had happened. The sudden movement shifted +the weight, and definitely destroyed the balance of the ladder. With a +sharp screech, like that of a bad pencil scratching on a slate, the +lower ends of the uprights slipped outward from the pillar. +Gianbattista clutched at the metal bars desperately, but the long +screw-driver in his hands impeded him, and he missed his hold. + +Don Paolo, the sound of whose step had at first made the young man turn, +and had thus probably precipitated the accident, sprang forward, threw +himself under the falling ladder, and grasped it with all his might. But +it was too late. Gianbattista was heavy, and the whole ladder with his +weight upon it had gained too much impetus to be easily stopped by one +man. With a loud crash he fell with the wooden frame upon the smooth +marble floor. Rolling to one side, Gianbattista leapt to his feet, dazed +but apparently unhurt. + +The priest lay motionless in a distorted position under the ladder, his +head bent almost beneath his body, and one arm projecting upon the +pavement, seemingly twisted in its socket, the palm upwards. The long +white fingers twitched convulsively once or twice, and then were still. +It was all the affair of a moment. Maria Luisa screamed and leaned +against the pillar for support, while Lucia ran forward and knelt beside +the injured man. Gianbattista, whose life had probably been saved by Don +Paolo's quick action, was dragging away the great ladder, and the +workmen came running up in confusion to see what had happened. + +It seemed as though Marzio's wish had been accomplished without his +agency. A deadly livid colour overspread the priest's refined features, +and as they lifted him his limp limbs hung down as though the vitality +would never return to them--all except the left arm, which was turned +stiffly out and seemed to refuse to hang down with the rest. It was +dislocated at the shoulder. + +A scene of indescribable confusion followed, in which Gianbattista alone +seemed to maintain some semblance of coolness. The rest all spoke and +cried at once. Maria Luisa and Lucia knelt beside the body where they +had laid it on the steps of the high altar, crying aloud, kissing the +white hands and beating their breasts, praying, sobbing, and calling +upon Paolo to speak to them, all in a breath. + +"He is dead as a stone," said one of the workmen in a low voice. + +"Eh! He is in Paradise," said another, kneeling at the priest's feet and +rubbing them. + +"Take him to the hospital, Sor Tista--" + +"Better take him home--" + +"I will run and call Sor Marzio--" + +"There is an apothecary in the next street." + +"A doctor is better--apothecaries are all murderers." + +Gianbattista, very pale, but collected and steady, pushed the men gently +away from the body. + +"_Cari miei_, my dear fellows," he said, "he may be alive. One of you +run and get a carriage to the side door of the sacristy. The rest of you +put the things together and be careful to leave nothing where it can +fall. We will take him to Sor Marzio's house and get the best doctor." + +"There is not even a drop of holy water in the basins," moaned Maria +Luisa. + +"He will go to Heaven without holy water," sobbed Lucia. "Oh, how good +he was--" + +Gianbattista kneeled down in his turn and tried to find the pulse in the +poor limp wrist. Then he listened for the heart. He fancied he could +hear a faint flutter in the breast. He looked up and a little colour +came to his pale face. + +"I think he is alive," he said to the two women, and then bent down +again and listened. "Yes," he continued joyfully. "The heart beats. +Gently--help me to carry him to the sacristy; get his hat one of you. +So--carefully--do not twist that arm. I think I see colour in his +cheeks--" + +With four other men Gianbattista raised the body and bore it carefully +to the sacristy. The cab was already at the door, and in a few minutes +poor Don Paolo was placed in it. The hood was raised, and Maria Luisa +got in and sat supporting the drooping head upon her broad bosom. Lucia +took the little seat in front, and Gianbattista mounted to the box, +after directing the four men to follow in a second cab as fast as they +could, to help to carry the priest upstairs. He sent another in search +of a surgeon. + +"Do not tell Sor Marzio--do not go to the workshop," he said in a last +injunction. He knew that Marzio would be of no use in such an emergency, +and he hoped that Don Paolo might be pronounced out of danger before the +chiseller knew anything of the accident. + +In half an hour the injured man was lying in Gianbattista's bed. It was +now evident that he was alive, for he breathed heavily and regularly. +But the half-closed eyes had no intelligence in them, and the slight +flush in the hollow cheeks was not natural to see. The twisted arm still +stuck out of the bed-coverings in a painfully distorted attitude. The +two women and Gianbattista stood by the bedside in silence, waiting for +the arrival of the surgeon. + +He came at last, a quiet-looking man of middle age, with grizzled hair +and a face deeply pitted with the smallpox. He seemed to know what he +was about, for he asked for a detailed account of the accident from +Gianbattista while he examined the patient. The young man, who was +beginning to feel the effects of the fall, now that the first excitement +had subsided, sat down while he told the story. The surgeon urged the +two women to leave the room. + +"The left arm is dislocated at the shoulder, without fracture," said +the surgeon. "Lend me a hand, will you? Hold his body firmly--here and +here--with all your might, while I pull the joint into place. If his +head or spine are not injured the pain may bring him to consciousness. +That will be a good thing. Now, ready--one, two, three, pull!" + +The two men gave a vigorous jerk, and to Gianbattista's surprise the arm +fell back in a natural position; but the injured priest's features +expressed no pain. He was evidently quite unconscious. A further +examination led the surgeon to believe that the harm was more serious. +There was a bad bruise on one side of the head, and more than one upon +other parts of the body. + +"Will he live?" asked Gianbattista faintly, as he sank back into his +chair. + +"Oh yes--probably. He is likely to have a brain fever; One cannot tell. +How old is he?" + +He asked one or two other questions, arranging the patient's position +with skilful hands while he talked Then he asked for paper and wrote a +prescription. + +"Nothing more can be done for the present," he said. "You should put +some ice on his head, and if he recovers consciousness, so as to speak +before I come back, observe what he says. He may be in a delirium, or he +may talk quite rationally. One cannot tell Send for this medicine and +give it to him if he is conscious. Otherwise, only keep his head cool. I +will come back early in the evening. You are not hurt yourself?" he +inquired, looking at Gianbattista curiously. + +"No; I am badly shaken, and my hands are a little cut--that is all," +answered the young man. + +"What a beautiful thing youth is!" observed the surgeon philosophically, +as he went away. + +Gianbattista remained alone in the sick-room, seated upon his chair by +the head of the bed. With anxious interest and attention he watched the +expressionless face as the heavy breath came and went between the parted +lips. In the distance he could hear the sobbing and incoherent talk of +the two women, as the doctor explained to them Paolo's condition, but he +was now too much dazed to give any thought to them. It seemed to him +that Don Paolo had sacrificed his life for him, and that he had no other +duty than to sit beside the bed and watch his friend. All the +impressions of the afternoon were very much confused, and the shock of +the fall had told upon his nerves far more severely than he had at first +realised. His limbs ached and his hands pained him; at the same time he +felt dizzy, and the outline of Don Paolo's face grew indistinct as he +watched it. He was roused by the entry of Lucia, who had hastily laid +aside her hat. Her face was pale, and her dark eyes were swollen with +tears; her hair was in disorder and was falling about her neck. +Gianbattista instinctively rose and put his arm about the girl's waist +as they stood together and looked at the sick man. He felt that it was +his duty to comfort her. + +"The doctor thinks he may get well," he said. + +"Who knows," she answered tearfully, and shook her head, "Oh, Tista, he +was our best friend!" + +"It was in trying to save me--" said the young fellow. But he got no +further. The words stuck in his throat. + +"If he lives I will be a son to him!" he added presently. "I will never +leave him. But perhaps--perhaps he is too good to live, Lucia!" + +"He must not die. I will take care of him," answered Lucia. "You must +pray for him, Tista, and I will--we all will!" + +"Eh! I will try, but I don't understand that kind of thing as well as +you," said Gianbattista dolefully. "If you think it is of any use--" + +"Of course it is of use, my heart; do not doubt it," replied the young +girl gravely. Then her features suddenly quivered, she turned away, and, +hiding her face on the pillow beside the priest's unconscious, head, she +sobbed as though her heart would break. Gianbattista knelt down at her +side and put his arm round her neck, whispering lovingly in her ear. + +The day was fading, and the last glow of the sun in the south-western +sky came through the small window at the other end of the narrow room, +illuminating the simple furniture, the white bed coverings, the upturned +face of the injured man, and the two young figures that knelt at the +bedside. It was Gianbattista's room, and there was little enough in it. +The bare bricks, with only a narrow bit of green drugget by the bed, the +plain deal table before the window, the tiny round mirror set in lead, +at which the apprentice shaved himself, the crazy old chest of +drawers--that was all. The whitewashed walls were relieved by two or +three drawings of chalices and other church vessels, the colour of the +gold or silver, and of the gems, washed into one half of the design and +the other side left in black and white. A little black cross hung above +the bedstead, with a bit of an olive branch nailed over it--a +reminiscence of the last Palm Sunday. There were two nails in another +part of the room, on which some old clothes were hung--that was all. But +the deep light of the failing day shed a peaceful halo aver everything, +and touched the coarse details of a hardworking existence with the +divine light of Heaven. + +Lucia's sobbing ceased after a while, and, as the sunset faded into +twilight and dusk, the silence grew more profound; the sick man's +breathing became lighter, as though in his unconsciousness he were +beginning to rest after the day in which he had endured so much. From +the sitting-room beyond the short passage the sound of Maria Luisa's +voice, moaning in concert with old Assunta, gradually diminished till +they were heard only at intervals, and at last ceased altogether. The +household of Marzio Pandolfi was hushed in the presence of a great +sorrow, and awed by the anticipation of a great misfortune. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Marzio, in ignorance of all that was happening at the church, continued +to work in the solitude of his studio, and the current of his thoughts +flowed on in the same channel. He tried to force his attention upon the +details of the design he meditated against his brother's life, and for +some time he succeeded. But another influence had begun to work upon his +brain, since the moment when he had been frightened by the sound behind +him while he was examining the hole beneath the strong box. He would not +own to himself that such a senseless fear could have produced a +permanent impression on him, and yet he felt disturbed and unsettled, +unaccountably discomposed, and altogether uncomfortable. He could not +help looking round from time to time at the door, and more than once his +eyes rested for several seconds upon the safe, while a slight shiver ran +through his body and seemed to chill his fingers. + +But he worked on in spite of all this. The habit of the chisel was not +to be destroyed by the fancied scare of a moment, and though his eyes +wandered now and then, they came back to the silver statue as keen as +ever. A little touch with the steel at one point, a little burnishing at +another, the accentuation of a line, the deepening of a shadow--he +studied every detail with a minute and scrupulous care which betrayed +his love for the work he was doing. + +And yet the uneasiness grew upon him. He felt somehow as though Paolo +were present in the room with him, watching him over his shoulder, +suggesting improvements to be made, in that voice of his which now rang +distinctly in the artist's ear. His imagination worked morbidly, and he +thought of Paolo standing beside him, ordering him to do this or that +against his will, until he began to doubt his own judgment in regard to +what he was doing. He wondered whether he should feel the same thing +when Paolo was dead. Again he looked behind him, and the idea that he +was not alone gained force. Nevertheless the room was bright, brighter +indeed in the afternoon than it ever was in the morning, for the window +was towards the south, and though the first rays of the sun reached it +at about eleven in the morning, the buildings afterwards darkened it +again until the sun was in the west. Moreover to-day, the weather had +been changeable, and it had rained a little about noon. Now the air was +again clear, and the workshop was lit up so that the light penetrated +even to the ancient cobwebs in the corners, and touched the wax models +and casts on the shelves, and gilded the old wood of the door opposite +with rich brown gold. Marzio had a curtain of dusty grey linen which he +drew across the lower part of the window to keep the sunshine off his +work. + +He was impatient with himself, and annoyed by the persistency of the +impression that Paolo was in some way present in the place. As though to +escape from it by braving it he set himself resolutely to consider the +expediency of destroying his brother. The first quick impulse in the +morning had developed to a purpose in the afternoon. He had constructed +the probable occurrences out of the materials of his imagination, and +had done it so vividly as to frighten himself. The fright had in some +measure cooled his intention, and had been now replaced by a new element +in his thoughts, by the apprehension for the future if the deed were +accomplished. He began to speculate upon what would happen afterwards, +wondering whether by any means the murder could be discovered, and if in +that case it could ever be traced to him. + +At the first faint suggestion that such a thing as he was devising could +possibly have another issue than he had supposed, Marzio felt a cold +sensation in his heart, and his thoughts took a different direction. It +was all simple enough. To get Paolo into the workshop alone--a +blow--the concealment of the dead body until night--then the short three +hundred yards with the hand-cart--it seemed very practicable. Yes, but +if by any chance he should meet a policeman under those low trees in the +Piazza de' Branca, what would happen? A man with a hand-cart, and with +something shapeless upon the hand-cart, in the dark, hurrying towards +the river--such a man would excite the suspicions of a policeman. Marzio +might be stopped and asked what he was taking away. He would +answer--what would he answer in such a case? The hand-cart would be +examined and found to contain a dead priest. Besides, he reflected that +the wheels would make a terrible clatter in the silent streets at night. +Of course he might go out and walk down to the river first and see if +there was anybody in the way, but even then he could not be sure of +finding no one when he returned with his burden. + +But there was the cellar, after all. He could go down in the night and +bury his brother's body there. No one ever went down, not even he +himself. Who would suspect the place? It would be a ghastly job, the +chiseller thought. He fancied how it would be in the cold, damp vault +with a lantern--the white face of the murdered man. No, he shrank from +thinking of it. It was too horrible to be thought of until it should be +absolutely necessary. But the place was a good one. + +And then when Paolo was buried deep under the damp stones, who would be +the first to ask for him? For two or three days no one would be much +surprised if he did not come to the house. Marzio would say that he had +met him in the street, and that Paolo had excused himself for not +coming, on the ground of extreme pressure of work. But the Cardinal, +whom he served as secretary, would ask for the missing man. He would be +the first. The Cardinal would be told that Paolo had not slept at home, +in his lodging high up in the old palace, and he would send at once to +Marzio's house to know where his secretary was. Well, he might send, +Marzio would answer that he did not know, and the matter would end +there. + +It would be hard to sit calmly at the bench all day with Gianbattista at +his side. He would probably look very often at the iron-bound box. +Gianbattista would notice that, and in time he would grow curious, and +perhaps explore the cellar. It would be a miserable ending to such a +drama to betray himself by his own weakness after it was all done, and +Paolo was gone for ever--a termination unworthy of Marzio, the +strong-minded freethinker. To kill a priest, and then be as nervous and +conscious as a boy in a scrape! The chiseller tried to laugh aloud in +his old way, but the effort was ineffectual, and ended in a painful +twisting of the lips, accompanied by a glance at the corner. It would +not do; he was weak, and was forced to submit to the humiliation of +acknowledging the fact to himself. With a bitter scorn of his +incapacity, he began to wonder whether he could ever get so far as to +kill Paolo in the first instance. He foresaw that if he did kill him, he +could never get rid of him afterwards. + +Where do people go when they die? The question rose suddenly in the mind +of the unbeliever, and seemed to demand an answer. He had answered often +enough over a pint of wine at the inn, with Gaspare Carnesecchi the +lawyer and the rest of his friends. Nowhere. That was the answer, clear +enough. When a man dies he goes to the ground, as a slaughtered ox to +the butcher's stall, or a dead horse to the knacker's. That is the end +of him, and it is of no use asking any more questions. You might as well +ask what becomes of the pins that are lost by myriads of millions, to +the weight of many tons in a year. You might as well inquire what +becomes of anything that is old, or worn out, or broken. A man is like +anything else, an agglomeration of matter, capable of a few more tricks +than a monkey, and capable of a few less than a priest. He dies, and is +swallowed up by the earth and gives no more trouble. These were the +answers Marzio was accustomed to give to the question, "Where do people +go to when they die?" Hitherto they had satisfied him, as they appear +to satisfy a very small minority of idiots. + +But what would became of Paolo when Marzio had killed him? Well, in time +his body would become earth, that was all. There was something else, +however. Marzio was conscious to certainty that Paolo would in some way +or other be at his elbow ever afterwards, just as he seemed to feel his +presence this afternoon in the workshop. What sort of presence would it +be? Marzio could not tell, but he knew he should feel it. It did not +matter whether it were real to others or not, it would be too real to +him. He could never get rid of the sensation; it would haunt him and +oppress him for the rest of his life, and he should have no peace. + +How could it, if it were not a real thing? Even the priests said that +the spirits of dead men did not come back to earth; how much more +impossible must it be in Marzio's view, since he denied that man had a +soul. It would then only be the effect of his imagination recalling +constantly the past deed, and a thing which only existed in imagination +did not exist at all. If it did not exist, it could not be feared by a +sensible man. Consequently there was nothing to fear. + +The conclusion contradicted the given facts from which he had argued, +and the chiseller was puzzled. For the first time his method of +reasoning did not satisfy him, and he tried to find out the cause. Was +it, he asked to himself, because there lingered in his mind some early +tradition of the wickedness of doing murder? Since there was no soul, +there was no absolute right and wrong, and everything must be decided by +the standard of expediency. It was a mistake to allow people to murder +each other openly, of course, because people of less intellectual +capacity would take upon themselves to judge such cases in their own +way. But provided that public morality, the darling of the real +freethinker, were not scandalised, there would be no inherent wrong in +doing away with Paolo. On the contrary, his death would be a benefit to +the community at large, and an advantage to Marzio in particular. Not a +pecuniary advantage either, for in Marzio's strange system there would +have been an immorality in murdering Paolo for his money if he had ever +had any, though it seemed right enough to kill him for an idea. That is, +to a great extent, the code of those persons who believe in nothing but +what they call great ideas. The individuals who murdered the Czar would +doubtless have scrupled to rob a gentleman in the street of ten francs. +The same reasoning developed itself in Marzio's brain. If his brothel +had been rich, it would have been a crime to murder him for his wealth. +It was no crime to murder him for an idea. Marzio said to himself that +to get rid of Paolo would be to emancipate himself and his family from +the rule and interference of a priest, and that such a proceeding was +only the illustration on a small scale of what he desired for his +country; consequently it was just, and therefore it ought to be done. + +Unfortunately for his logic, the continuity of his deductions was +blocked by a consideration which he had not anticipated. That +consideration could only be described as fear for the future, and it had +been forcibly thrust upon him by the fright he had received while he was +examining the hole in the floor. In order to neutralise it, Marzio had +tried the experiment of braving what he considered to be a momentary +terror by obstinately studying the details of the plan he intended to +execute. To his surprise he found that he returned to the same +conclusion as before. He came back to that unaccountable fear of the +future as surely as a body thrown upwards falls again to the earth. He +went over it all in his mind again, twice, three times, twenty times. As +often as he reached the stage at which he imagined Paolo dead, hidden, +and buried in a cellar, the same shiver passed through him as he glanced +involuntarily behind him. Why? What power could a dead body possibly +exercise over a living man in the full possession of his senses? + +Here was something which Marzio could not understand, but of which he +was made aware by his own feelings. The difficulty only increased in +magnitude as he faced it, considered it, and tried to view it from all +its horrible aspects. But he could not overcome it. He might laugh at +the existence of the soul and jest about the future state after death; +he could not escape from the future in this life if he did the deed he +contemplated. He should see the dead man's face by day and night as long +as he lived. + +This forced conclusion was in logical accordance with his original +nature and developed character, for it was the result of that +economical, cautious disposition which foresees the consequences of +action and guides itself accordingly. Even in the moment when he had +nearly killed Paolo that morning he had not been free from this +tendency. In the instant when he had raised the tool to strike he had +thought of the means of disposing of the body and of hindering +suspicion. The panorama of coming circumstances had presented itself to +his mind with the rapidity of a flash of lightning, but in that +infinitesimal duration of time Paolo had turned round, and the +opportunity was gone. His mind had worked quickly, but it had not gone +to the end of its reasoning. Now in the solitude of his studio he had +found leisure to follow out the results to the last link of the chain. +He saw clearly that even if he eluded discovery after the crime, he +could never escape from the horror of his dead brother's presence. + +He laid the silver figure of the Christ straight before him upon the +leathern pad, and looked intently at it, while his hands played idly +with the tools upon the table. His deep-set, heavy eyes gazed fixedly at +the wonderful face, with an expression which had not yet been there. +There was no longer any smile upon his thin lips, and his dark emaciated +features were restful and quiet, almost solemn in their repose. + +"I am glad I did not do it," he said aloud after some minutes. + +Still he gazed at his work, and the impression stole over him that but +for a slight thing he might yet have killed his brother. If he had left +the figure more securely propped upon the pad, it could not have slipped +upon the bench; it could not have made that small distinct sound just as +he was examining the place which was to have been his brother's grave; +he would not have been suddenly frightened; he would not have gone over +the matter in his mind as he had done, from the point of view of a +future fear; he would have waited anxiously for another opportunity, and +when it presented itself he would have struck the blow, and Paolo would +have been dead, if not to-day, to-morrow. There would have been a search +which might or might not have resulted in the discovery of the body. +Then there would have been, the heartrending grief of his wife, of +Lucia, and the black suspicious looks of Gianbattista. The young man had +heard him express a wish that Paolo might disappear. His home would have +been a hell, instead of being emancipated from tyranny as he had at +first imagined. Discovery and conviction would have come at last, the +galleys for life for himself, dishonour and contempt for his family. + +He remembered Paolo's words as he stood contemplating the crucifix just +before that moment which had nearly been his last. _Qui propter nos +homines et propter nostram salutem_--"Who for us men and for our +salvation came down from Heaven." In a strange revulsion of feeling +Marzio applied the words to himself, with an odd simplicity that was at +once pathetic and startling. + +"If Christ had not died," he said to himself, "I should not have made +this crucifix. If I had not made it, it would not have frightened me. I +should have killed my brother. It has saved me. 'For us men and for our +salvation'--those are the words--for my salvation, it is very strange. +Poor Paolo! If he knew to what he owed his life he would be pleased. Who +can believe such things? Who would have believed this if I had told it? +And yet it is true." + +For some minutes still he gazed at the figure. Then he shook himself as +though to rouse his mind from a trance, and took up his tools. He did +not glance behind him again, and, for the time at least, his nervous +dislike of the box in the corner seemed to have ceased. He laboured with +patient care, touching and re-touching, believing that each tap of the +hammer should be the last, and yet not wholly satisfied. + +The light waned, and he took down the curtain to admit the last glows of +the evening. He could do no more, art itself could have done no more to +beautify and perfect the masterpiece that lay upon the cushion before +him. The many hours he had spent in putting the last finish upon the +work had produced their result. His hand had imparted something to the +features of the dying head which had not been there before, and as he +stood over the bench he knew that he had surpassed his greatest work. He +went and fetched the black cross from the shelf, and polished its smooth +surface carefully with a piece of silk. Then he took the figure tenderly +in his hands and laid it in its position. The small screws turned evenly +in the threads, fitting closely into their well-concealed places, and +the work was finished. Marzio placed the whole crucifix upon the bench +and sat down to look at it. + +It made a strong impression upon him, this thing of his own hands, and +again he remained a long time resting his chin upon his folded fingers +and gazing up at the drooping lids. The shadows lay softly on the +modelled silver, so softly that the metal itself seemed to tremble and +move, and in his reverie Marzio could almost have expected the divine +eyes to open and look into his face. And gradually the shadows deepened +more and more, and gathered into gloom till in the dark the black arms +of the cross scarcely stood out from the darkness, and in the last +lingering twilight he could see only the clear outline of the white head +and outstretched hands, that seemed to emit a soft radiance gathered +from the brightness of the departed day. + +Marzio struck a match and lit his lamp. His thoughts were so wholly +absorbed that he had not remembered the workmen, nor wondered why they +had not come back. After all, most of them lived in the direction of the +church, and if they had finished their work late they would very +probably go home without returning to the shop. The chiseller wrapped +the crucifix in the old white cloth, and laid it in its plain wooden +box, but he did not screw the cover down, merely putting it on loosely +so that it could be removed in a moment. He laid his tools in order, +mechanically, as he did every evening, and then he extinguished the +light and made his way to the door, carrying the box under his arm. + +The boy who alone had remained at work had lighted a tallow candle, and +was sitting dangling his heels from his stool as Marzio came out. + +"Still here!" exclaimed the artist. + +"Eh! You did not tell me to go," answered the lad. + +Marzio locked the heavy outer door and crossed over to his house, while +the boy went whistling down the street in the dusk. Slowly the artist +mounted the stairs, pondering, as he went, on the many emotions of the +day, and at last repeating his conclusion, that he was glad that he had +not killed Paolo. + +By a change of feeling which he did not wholly realise, he felt for the +first time in many years that he would be glad to see his brother alive +and well. He had that day so often fancied him dead, lying on the floor +of the workshop, or buried in a dark corner of the cellar, that the idea +of meeting him, calm and well as ever, had something refreshing in it. +It was like the waking from a hideous dream of evil to find that the +harm is still undone, to experience that sense of unutterable relief +which every one knows when the dawn suddenly touches the outlines of +familiar objects in the room, and dispels in an instant the visions of +the night. + +Paolo might not come that evening, but at least Maria Luisa and Lucia +would speak of him, and it would be a comfort to hear his name spoken +aloud. Marzio's step quickened with the thought, and in another moment +he was at the door. To his surprise it was opened before he could ring, +and old Assunta came forward with her wrinkled fingers raised to her +lips. + +"Hist! hist!" she whispered. "It goes a little better--or at least--" + +"What? Who?" asked Marzio, instinctively whispering also. + +"Eh! You have not heard? Don Paolo--they have killed him!" + +"Paolo!" exclaimed Marzio, staggering and leaning against the door-post. + +"He is not dead--not dead yet at least," went on the old woman in low, +excited tones. "He was in the church with Tista--a ladder--" + +Marzio did not stop to hear more, but pushed past Assunta with his +burden under his arm, and entered the passage. The door at the end was +open, and he saw his wife standing in the bright light in the +sitting-room, anxiously looking towards him as though she had heard his +coming. + +"For God's sake, Gigia," he said, addressing her by her old pet name, +"tell me quickly what has happened!" + +The Signora Pandolfi explained as well as she could, frequently giving +way to her grief in passionate sobs. She was incoherent, but the facts +were so simple that Marzio understood them. He was standing by the +table, his hand resting upon the wooden case he had brought, and his +face was very pale. + +"Let me understand," he said at last. "Tista was on the ladder. The +ladder slipped, Paolo ran to catch it, and it fell on him. He is badly +hurt, but not dead; is that it, Gigia?" + +Maria Luisa nodded in the midst of a fit of weeping. + +"The surgeon has been, you say? Yes. And where is Paolo lying?" + +"In Tista's room," sobbed his wife. "They are with him now." + +Marzio stood still and hesitated. He was under the influence of the most +violent emotion, and his face betrayed something of what he felt. The +idea of Paolo's death had played a tremendous part in his thoughts +during the whole day, and he had firmly believed that he had got rid of +that idea, and was to realise in meeting his brother that it had all +been a dream. The news he now heard filled him with horror. It seemed as +if the intense wish for Paolo's death had in some way produced a +material result without his knowledge; it was as though he had killed +his brother by a thought--as though he had had a real share in his +death. + +He could hardly bear to go and see the wounded man, so strong was the +impression that gained possession of him. His fancy called up pictures +of Paolo lying wounded in bed, and he dreaded to face the sight. He +turned away from the table and began to walk up and down the little +room. In a corner his foot struck against something--the drawing board +on which he had begun to sketch the night before. Marzio took it up and +brought it to the light. Maria Luisa stared at him sorrowfully, as +though reproaching him with indifference in the general calamity. But +Marzio looked intently at the drawing. It was only a sketch, but it was +very beautifully done. He saw that his ideal was still the same, and +that upon the piece of paper he had only reproduced the features he had +chiselled ten years ago, with an added beauty of expression, with just +those additions which to-day he had made upon the original. The moment +he was sure of the fact he laid aside the board and opened the wooden +case. + +Maria Luisa, who was very far from guessing what an intimate connection +existed between the crucifix and Paolo in her husband's mind, looked on +with increasing astonishment as he took out the beautiful object and Bet +it upon the table in the light. But when she saw it her admiration +overcame her sorrow for one moment. + +"_Dio mio!_ What a miracle!" she exclaimed. + +"A miracle?" repeated her husband, with a strange expression. "Who +knows? Perhaps!" + +At that moment Gianbattista and Lucia entered through the open door, and +stood together watching the scene without understanding what was +passing. The young girl recognised the crucifix at once. She supposed +that her father did not realise Paolo's condition, and was merely +showing the masterpiece to her mother. + +"That is the one I saw," she whispered to Gianbattista. The young man +said nothing, but fixed his eyes upon the cross. + +"Papa," said Lucia timidly, "do you know?" + +"Yes. Is he alone?" asked Marzio in a tone which was not like his own. + +"There is Assunta," answered the young girl. + +"I will go to him," said the artist, and without further words he lifted +the crucifix from the table and went out. His face was very grave, and +his features had something in them that none of the three had seen +before--something almost of grandeur. Gianbattista and Lucia followed +him. + +"I will be alone with him," said Marzio, looking back at the pair as he +reached the door of the sick chamber. He entered and a moment afterwards +old Assunta came out and shuffled away, holding her apron to her eyes. + +Marzio went in. There was a small shaded lamp on the deal table, which +illuminated the room with a soft light. Marzio felt that he could not +trust himself at first to look at his brother's face. He set the +crucifix upon the old chest of drawers, and put the lamp near it. Then +he remained standing before it with his back to the bed, and his hands +in the pockets of his blouse. He could hear the regular breathing which +told that Paolo was still alive. For a long time he could not turn +round; it was as though an unseen power held him motionless in his +position. He looked at the crucifix. + +"If he wakes," he thought, "he will see it. It will comfort him if he is +going to die!" + +With his back still turned towards the bed, he moved to one side, until +he thought that Paolo could see what he had brought, if consciousness +returned. Very slowly, as though fearing some horrible sight, he changed +his position and looked timidly in the direction of the sick man. At +last he saw the pale upturned face, and was amazed that such an accident +should have produced so little change in the features. He came and stood +beside the bed. + +Paolo had not moved since the surgeon had left; he was lying on his +back, propped by pillows so that his face was towards the light. He was +pale now, for the flush that had been in his cheeks had subsided; his +eyelids, which had been half open, had dropped and closed, so that he +seemed to be sleeping peacefully, ready to wake at the slightest sound. + +Marzio stood and looked at him. This was the man he had hated through so +many years of boyhood and manhood--the man who had faced him and opposed +him at every step--who had stood up boldly before him in his own house +to defend what he believed to be right. This was Paolo, whom he had +nearly killed that morning. Marzio's right hand felt the iron tool in +the pocket of his blouse, and his fingers trembled as he touched it, +while his long arms twitched nervously from the shoulder to the elbow. +He took it out, looked at it, and at the sick man's face. He asked +himself whether he could think of using it as he had meant to, and then +he let it fall upon the bit of green drugget by the bedside. + +That was Paolo--it would not need any sharpened weapon to kill him now. +A little pressure on the throat, a pillow held over his face for a few +moments, and it would all be over. And what for? To be pursued for ever +by that same white face? No. It was not worth while, it had never been +worth while, even were that all. But there was something else to be +considered. Paolo might now die of his accident, in his bed. There would +be no murder done in that case, no haunting horror of a presence, no +discovery to be feared, since there would have been no evil. Let him +die, if he was dying! + +But that was not all either. What would it be when Paolo should be dead? +Well, he had his ideas, of course. They were mistaken ideas. Were they? +Perhaps, who could tell? But he was not a bad man, this Paolo. He had +never tried to wring money out of Marzio, as some people did. On the +contrary, Marzio still felt a sense of humiliation when he thought how +much he owed to the kindness of this man, his brother, lying here +injured to death, and powerless to help himself or to save himself. +Powerless? yes--utterly so. How easy it would be, after all, to press a +pillow on the unconscious face. There would probably not even be a +struggle. Who should save him, or who could know of it? And yet Marzio +did not want to do it, as he had wished to a few hours ago. As he looked +down on the pale head he realised that he did not want Paolo to die. +Standing on the sharp edge of the precipice where life ends and breaks +off, close upon the unfathomable depths of eternity, himself firmly +standing and fearing no fall, but seeing his brother slipping over the +brink, he would put out his hand to save him, to draw him back. He would +not have Paolo die. + +He gazed upon the calm features, and he knew that he feared lest they +should be still for ever. The breath came more softly, more and more +faintly. Marzio thought. He bent down low and tried to feel the warm +air as it issued from the lips. His fears grew to terror as the life +seemed to ebb away from the white face. In the agony of his +apprehension, Marzio inadvertently laid his hand upon the injured +shoulder, unconsciously pressing his weight upon the place. + +With a faint sigh the priest's eyes opened and seemed to gaze for a +moment on the crucifix standing in the bright light of the lamp. An +expression of wonderful gentleness and calm overspread the refined +features. + +"_Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de +coelis_." + +The words came faintly from the dying man's lips, the last syllables +scarcely audible in the intense stillness. A deathly pallor crept +quickly over the smooth forehead and thin cheeks. Marzio looked for one +instant more, and then with a loud cry fell upon his knees by the +bedside, his long arms extended across his brother's body. The strong +hot tears fell upon the bed coverings, and his breast heaved with +passionate sobbing. + +He did not see that Paolo opened his eyes at the sound. He did not +notice the rush of feet in the passage without, as Maria Luisa and Lucia +and Gianbattista ran to the door, followed by old Assunta holding up her +apron to her eyes. + +"Courage, Sor Marzio," said Gianbattista, drawing the artist back from +the bed. "You will disturb him. Do you not see that he is conscious at +last?" + +Lucia was arranging the pillows under Paolo's head, and Maria Luisa was +crying with joy. Marzio sprang to his feet and stared as though he could +not believe what he saw. Paolo turned his head and looked kindly at his +brother. + +"Courage, Marzio," he said, "I have been asleep, I believe--what has +happened to me? Why are you all crying?" + +Marzio's tears broke out again, mingled with incoherent words of joy. In +his sudden happiness he clasped the two persons nearest to him, and +hugged them and kissed them. These two chanced to be Lucia and +Gianbattista. Paolo smiled, but the effort of speaking had tired him. + +"Well," said Marzio at last, with a kinder smile than had been on his +face for many a day--"very well, children. For Paolo's sake you shall +have your own way." + +Half an hour later the surgeon made his visit and assured them all that +there was no serious injury, nor any further danger to be feared. The +patient had been very badly stunned, that was all. Marzio remained by +his brother's side. + +"You see, Tista," said Lucia when they were in the sitting-room, "I was +quite right about the crucifix and the rest." + +"Of course," assented the Signora Pandolfi, though she did not +understand the allusion in the least. "Of course you are all of you +right. But what a day this has been, _cari miei_! What a day! Dear, +dear!" She spread out her fat hands upon her knees, looking the picture +of solid contentment. + +THE END + + + + * * * * * + + + +ZOROASTER + +TO + +My Beloved Wife + +I DEDICATE THIS DRAMA + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +The hall of the banquets was made ready for the feast in the palace of +Babylon. That night Belshazzar the king would drink wine with a thousand +of his lords, and be merry before them; and everything was made ready. + +From end to end of the mighty nave, the tables of wood, overlaid with +gold and silver, stood spread with those things which the heart of man +can desire; with cups of gold and of glass and of jade; with great +dishes heaped high with rare fruits and rarer flowers; and over all, the +last purple rays of the great southern sun came floating through the +open colonnades of the porch, glancing on the polished marbles, tingeing +with a softer hue the smooth red plaster of the walls, and lingering +lovingly on the golden features and the red-gold draperies of the vast +statue that sat on high and overlooked the scene. + +On his head the head-dress of thrice royal supremacy, in his right hand +and his left the sceptre of power and the winged wheel of immortality +and life, beneath his feet the bowed necks of prostrate captives;--so +sat the kingly presence of great Nebuchadnezzar, as waiting to see what +should come to pass upon his son; and the perfume of the flowers and the +fruits and the rich wine came up to his mighty nostrils, and he seemed +to smile there in the evening sunlight, half in satisfaction, half in +scorn. + +On each side of the great building, in the aisles and wings, among the +polished pillars of marble thronged the serving-men, bearing ever fresh +spices and flowers and fruits, wherewith to deck the feast, whispering +together in a dozen Indian, Persian and Egyptian dialects, or in the +rich speech of those nobler captives whose pale faces and eagle eyes +stood forth everywhere in strong contrast with the coarser features and +duskier skins of their fellows in servitude,--the race not born to +dominate, but born to endure even to the end. These all mingled together +in the strange and broken reflections of the evening light, and here and +there the purple dye of the sun tinged the white tunic of some poor +slave to as fair a colour as a king's son might wear. + +On this side and on that of the tables that were spread for the feast, +stood great candlesticks, as tall as the height of two men, tapering +from the thickness and heavy carving below to the fineness and delicate +tracery above, and bearing upon them cups of bronze, each having its +wick steeped in fine oil mixed with wax. Moreover, in the midst of the +hall, where the seat of the king was put upon a raised floor, the +pillars stood apart for a space, so that there was a chamber, as it +were, from the wall on the right to the wall on the left, roofed with +great carved rafters; and the colour of the walls was red,--a deep and +glorious red that seemed to make of the smooth plaster a sheet of +precious marble. Beyond, beneath the pillars, the panels of the aisles +were pictured and made many-coloured with the story of Nebuchadnezzar +the king, his conquests and his feasts, his captives and his courtiers, +in endless train upon the splendid wall. But where the king should sit +in the midst of the hall there were neither pillars nor paintings; only +the broad blaze of the royal colour, rich and even. Beside the table +also stood a great lamp, taller and more cunningly wrought than the +rest,--the foot of rare marble and chiselled bronze and the lamp above +of pure gold from southern Ophir. But it was not yet kindled, for the +sun was not set and the hour for the feast was not fully come. + +At the upper end of the hall, before the gigantic statue of wrought +gold, there was an open space, unencumbered by tables, where the smooth, +polished marble floor came to view in all its rich design and colour. +Two persons, entering the hall with slow steps, came to this place and +stood together, looking up at the face of the golden king. + +Between the two there was the gulf of a lifetime. The one was already +beyond the common limit of age, while he who stood beside him was but a +fair boy of fourteen summers. + +The old man was erect still, and his snowy hair and beard grew like a +lion's mane about his massive brow and masterful face. The deep lines of +thought, graven deeper by age, followed the noble shaping of his brows +in even course, and his dark eyes still shot fire, as piercing the +bleared thickness of time to gaze boldly on the eternity beyond. His +left hand gathered the folds of a snow-white robe around him, while in +his right he grasped a straight staff of ebony and ivory, of fine +workmanship, marvellously polished, whereon were wrought strange sayings +in the Israelitish manner of writing. The old man stood up to his noble +height, and looked from the burnished face of the king's image to the +eyes of the boy beside him, in silence, as though urging his young +companion to speak for him the thoughts that filled the hearts of both. + +The youth spoke not, nor gave any sign, but stood with folded hands and +gazed up to the great features of Nebuchadnezzar. + +He was but fourteen years of age, tall and delicately made, full of the +promise of a graceful and elastic power, fine of skin, and instinct with +the nervous strength of a noble and untainted race. His face was fair +and white, tinged with faint colour, and his heavy golden hair fell in +long curls upon his shoulders, thick and soft with the silken fineness +of early youth. His delicate features were straight and noble, northern +rather than Oriental in their type--supremely calm and thoughtful, +almost godlike in their young restfulness. The deep blue eyes were +turned upward with a touch of sadness, but the broad forehead was as +marble, and the straight marking of the brows bounded it and divided it +from the face. He wore the straight white tunic, edged about with fine +embroideries of gold and gathered at the waist with a rich belt, while +his legs were covered with wide Persian trousers wrought in many colours +of silk upon fine linen. He wore also a small cap of linen, stiffened +to a point and worked with a cunning design in gold and silver. But the +old man's head was covered only by the thick masses of his snowy hair, +and his wide white mantle hid the details of his dress from view. + +Again he glanced from the statue to his companion's eyes, and at last he +spoke, in a deep smooth voice, in the Hebrew tongue. + +"Nebuchadnezzar the king is gathered to his fathers, and his son also, +and Nabonnedon Belshazzar reigns in his stead, yet have I endured to +this day, in Babylon, these threescore and seven years, since +Nebuchadnezzar the king destroyed our place upon the earth and led us +away captive. Unto this day, Zoroaster, have I endured, and yet a little +longer shall I stand and bear witness for Israel." + +The old man's eyes flashed, and his strong aquiline features assumed an +expression of intense vitality and life. Zoroaster turned to him and +spoke softly, almost sadly: + +"Say, O Daniel, prophet and priest of the Lord, why does the golden +image seem to smile to-day? Are the times accomplished of thy vision +which thou sawest in Shushan, in the palace, and is the dead king glad? +I think his face was never so gentle before to look upon,--surely he +rejoices at the feast, and the countenance of his image is gladdened." + +"Nay, rather then should his face be sorrowful for the destruction of +his seed and of his kingdom," answered the prophet somewhat scornfully. +"Verily the end is at hand, and the stones of Babylon shall no longer +cry out for the burden of the sins of Belshazzar, and the people call +upon Bel to restore unto life the King Nebuchadnezzar; nay, or to send +hither a Persian or a Mede to be a just ruler in the land." + +"Hast thou read it in the stars, or have thine eyes seen these things in +the visions of the night, my master?" The boy came nearer to the aged +prophet and spoke in low earnest tones. But Daniel only bent his head, +till his brow touched his ebony staff, and so he remained, deep in +thought. + +"For I also have dreamed,"--continued Zoroaster, after a short +pause,--"and my dream took hold of me, and I am sorry and full of great +weariness. Now this is the manner of my dreaming." He stopped and +glanced down the great nave of the hall through the open porch at the +other end. The full glory of the red sun, just touching the western +plain, streamed upon his face and made the tables, the preparations and +the crowd of busy serving-men look like black shadows between him and +the light. But Daniel leaned upon his staff and spoke no word, nor moved +from his position. + +"I saw in my dream," said Zoroaster, "and there was darkness; and upon +the winds of the night arose the sound of war, and the cry and the clash +of battle, mighty men striving one with another for the mastery and the +victory, which should be to the stronger. And I saw again, and behold it +was morning, and the people were led away captive, by tens, and by +hundreds, and by thousands, and the maidens also and young women into a +far country. And I looked, and the face of one of the maidens was as the +face of the fairest among the daughters of thy people. Then my heart +yearned for her, and I would have followed after into the captivity; but +darkness came upon me, and I saw her no more. Therefore am I troubled +and go heavily all the day." + +He ceased and the cadence of the boy's voice trembled and was sad. The +sun set out of sight beneath the plain, and from far off a great sound +of music came in upon the evening breeze. + +Daniel raised his snowy head and gazed keenly on his young companion, +and there was disappointment in his look. + +"Wouldst thou be a prophet?" he asked, "thou that dreamest of fair +maidens and art disquieted for the love of a woman? Thinkest thou, boy, +that a woman shall help thee when thou art grown to be a man, or that +the word of the Lord dwelleth in vanity? Prophesy, and interpret thy +vision, if so be that thou art able to interpret it. Come, let us +depart, for the king is at hand, and the night shall be given over for a +space to the rioters and the mirth-makers, with whom our portion is not. +Verily I also have dreamed a dream. Let us depart." + +The venerable prophet stood up to his height, and grasping his staff in +his right hand, began to lead the way from the hall. Zoroaster laid hold +of him by the arm, as though entreating him to remain. + +"Speak, master," he cried earnestly, "and declare to me thy dream, and +see whether it accords with mine, and whether there shall be darkness +and rumour of war in the land." + +But Daniel the prophet would not stay to speak, but went out of the +hall, and Zoroaster the Persian youth went with him, pondering deeply on +the present and on the future, and on the nature of the vision he had +seen; and made fearful by the silence of his friend and teacher. + +The darkness fell upon the twilight, and within the hall the lamps and +candlesticks were kindled and gave out warm light and rare perfumes. All +down the endless rows of tables, the preparations for the feast were +ready; and from the gardens without, strains of music came up ever +stronger and nearer, so that the winged sounds seemed to come into the +vast building and hover above the tables and seats of honour, preparing +the way for the guests. Nearer and nearer came the harps and the pipes +and the trumpets and the heavy reed-toned bagpipes, and above all the +strong rich chorus of the singers chanting high the evening hymn of +praise to Bel, god of sunlight, honoured in his departing, as in his +coming, with the music of the youngest and most tuneful voices in +Shinar. + +First came the priests of Bel, two and two, robed in their white tunics, +loose white garments on their legs, the white mitre of the priestly +order on their heads, and their great beards curled smooth and glossy as +silk. In their midst, with stately dignity, walked their chief, his eyes +upon the ground, his hands crossed upon his breast, his face like dark +marble in the twilight. On either side, those who had officiated at the +sacrifice, bore the implements of their service,--the knife, the axe, +the cord, and the fire in its dish; and their hands were red with the +blood of the victim lately slain. Grand, great men, mighty of body and +broad of brow, were these priests of Bel,--strong with the meat and the +wine of the offerings that were their daily portion, and confident in +the faith of their ancient wisdom. + +After the priests the musicians, one hundred chosen men of skill, making +strange deep harmonies in a noble and measured rhythm, marching ten and +ten abreast, in ten ranks; and as they came on, the light streaming from +the porch of the palace caught their silver ornaments and the strange +shapes of their instruments in broken reflections between the twilight +and the glare of the lamps. + +Behind these came the singers,--of young boys two hundred, of youths a +hundred, and of bearded men also a hundred; the most famous of all that +sang praises to Bel in the land of Assur. Ten and ten they marched, with +ordered ranks and step in time to the massive beat of the long-drawn +measure. + + _"Mighty to rule the day, great in his glory and the + pride of his heat, + Shooting great bolts of light into the dark earth, + turning death into life, + Making the seed to grow, strongly and fairly, high + in furrow and field, + Making the heart of man glad with his gladness, + rideth over the dawn + Bel, the prince, the king of kings. + + "Hotly his flaming hair, streaming with brightness, + and the locks of his beard + Curl'd into clouds of heat, sweeping the heavens, + spread all over the sky: + Who shall abide his face, fearful and deadly, when + he devours the land, + Angry with man and beast, horribly raging, hungry + for sacrifice? + Bel, the prince, the king of kings. + + "Striding his three great strides, out of the morning + through the noon to the night, + Cometh he down at last, ready for feasting, ready + for sacrifice: + Then doth he tread the wine, purple and golden, + foaming deep in the west; + Shinar is spread for him, spread as a table, Assur + shall be his seat: + Bel, the prince, the king of kings. + + "Bring him the fresh-slain flesh, roast it with fire, + with the savour of salt, + Pour him the strength of wine, chalice and goblet, + trodden for him alone: + Raise him the song of songs, cry out in praises, cry + out and supplicate + That he may drink delight, tasting our off'ring, hearing + our evening song: + Bel, the prince, the king of kings. + + "So, in the gentle night, when he is resting, + peace descendeth on earth; + High in the firmament, where his steps led him, + gleam the tracks of his way: + Where the day felt his touch, there the night also + breaketh forth into stars, + These are the flowers of heaven, garlands of blossoms, + growing to weave his crown: + Bel, the prince, the king of kings. + + "Hail! thou king of the earth, hail! Belteshazzar, + hail! and for ever live! + Born of the gods on high, prince of the nations, + ruling over the world: + Thou art the son of Bel, full of his glory, king over + death and life; + Let all the people bow, tremble and worship, bow + them down and adore + The prince of Bel, the king of kings."_ + +As the musicians played and the singers sang, they divided their ranks +and came and stood on each side of the broad marble staircase; and the +priests had done so before them, but the chief priest stood alone on the +lowest step. + +Then, between the files of those who stood, advanced the royal +procession, like a river of gold and purple and precious stones flowing +between banks of pure white. Ten and ten, a thousand lords of Babylon +marched in stately throng, and in their midst rode Belshazzar the king, +high upon his coal-black steed, crowned with the great tiara of white +linen and gold and jewels, the golden sceptre of the kingdom in his +right hand. And after the lords and the king came a long procession of +litters borne by stalwart slaves, wherein reclined the fairest women of +all Assyria, bidden to the great feast. Last of all, the spearmen of +the guard in armour all chased with gold, their mantles embroidered with +the royal cognisance, and their beards trimmed and curled in the close +soldier fashion, brought up the rear; a goodly company of men of war. + +As the rich voices of the singers intoned the grand plain chant of the +last stanza in the hymn, the king was in the middle of the open space at +the foot of the staircase; there he drew rein and sat motionless on his +horse, awaiting the end. As the ripe corn bends in its furrows to the +wind, so the royal host around turned to the monarch, and fell upon +their faces as the music died away at the signal of the high priest. +With one consent the lords, the priests, the singers and the spearmen +bowed and prostrated themselves on the ground; the bearers of the +litters set down their burden while they did homage; and each of those +beautiful women bent far forward, kneeling in her litter, and hid her +head beneath her veil. + +Only the king sat erect and motionless upon his steed, in the midst of +the adoring throng. The light from the palace played strangely on his +face, making the sneering smile more scornful upon his pale lips, and +shading his sunken eyes with a darker shadow. + +While you might count a score there was silence, and the faint evening +breeze wafted the sweet smell of the roses from the gardens to the +king's nostrils, as though even the earth would bring incense of +adoration to acknowledge his tremendous power. + +Then the host rose again and fell back on either side while the king +rode to the staircase and dismounted, leading the way to the banquet; +and the high priest followed him and all the ranks of the lords and +princes and the ladies of Babylon, in their beauty and magnificence, +went up the marble steps and under the marble porch, spreading then like +a river, about the endless tables, almost to the feet of the golden +image of Nebuchadnezzar. And presently, from beneath the colonnades a +sound of sweet music stole out again and filled the air; the serving-men +hurried hither and thither, the black slaves plied their palm-leaf fans +behind each guest, and the banquet was begun. + +Surely, a most glorious feast, wherein the hearts of the courtiers waxed +merry, and the dark eyes of the Assyrian women shot glances sweeter than +the sweetmeats of Egypt and stronger than the wine of the south to move +the spirit of man. Even the dark king, wasted and hollow-eyed with too +much pleasure-seeking, smiled and laughed,--sourly enough at first, it +is true, but in time growing careless and merry by reason of his deep +draughts. His hand trembled less weakly as the wine gave him back his +lost strength, and more than once his fingers toyed playfully with the +raven locks and the heavy earrings of the magnificent princess at his +elbow. Some word of hers roused a thought in his whirling brain. + +"Is not this day the feast of victories?" he cried in sudden animation; +and there was silence to catch the king's words. "Is not this the day +wherein my sire brought home the wealth of the Israelites, kept holy +with feasting for ever? Bring me the vessels of the unbelievers' temple, +that I may drink and pour out wine this night to Bel, the god of gods!" + +The keeper of the treasure had anticipated the king's desire and had +caused everything to be made ready; for scarcely had Belshazzar spoken +when a long train of serving-men entered the hall of the banquet and +came and stood before the royal presence, their white garments and the +rich vessels they bore aloft standing vividly out against the deep even +red of the opposite wall. + +"Let the vessels be distributed among us," cried the king,--"to every +man a cup or a goblet till all are served." + +And so it was done, and the royal cup-bearer came and filled the huge +chalice that the king held, and the serving-men hastened to fill all the +cups and the small basins; while the lords and princes laughed at the +strange shapes, and eyed greedily enough the thickness and the good +workmanship of the gold and silver. And so each man and each woman had a +vessel from the temple of Jerusalem wherein to drink to the glory of Bel +the god and of Belshazzar his prince. And when all was ready, the king +took his chalice in his two hands and stood up, and all that company of +courtiers stood up with him, while a mighty strain of music burst +through the perfumed air, and the serving-men showered flowers and +sprinkled sweet odours on the tables. + +Without stood the Angel of Death, whetting his sword upon the stones of +Babylon. But Belshazzar held the chalice and spoke with a loud voice to +the princes and the lords and the fair women that stood about the tables +in the great hall: + +"I, Belshazzar the king, standing in the hall of my fathers, do pour +and drink this wine to the mighty majesty of Bel the great god, who +lives for ever and ever; before whom the gods of the north and of the +west and of the east and of the south are as the sand of the desert in +the blast; at whose sight the vain deities of Egypt crumbled into +pieces, and the God of the Israelites trembled and was made little in +the days of Nebuchadnezzar my sire. And I command you, lords and princes +of Babylon, you and your wives and your fair women, that ye also do pour +wine and drink it, doing this homage to Bel our god, and to me, +Belshazzar the king." + +And so saying, he turned about to one side and spilled a few drops of +wine upon the marble floor, and set the cup to his lips, facing the +great throng of his guests; and he drank. But from all the banquet went +up a great shout. + +"Hail! king, live for ever! Hail! prince of Bel, live for ever! Hail! +king of kings, live for ever!" Long and loud was the cry, ringing and +surging through the pillars and up to the great carved rafters till the +very walls seemed to rock and tremble with the din of the king's praise. + +Slowly Belshazzar drained the cup to the dregs, while with half-closed +eyes he listened to the uproar, and perhaps sneered to himself behind +the chalice, as was his wont. Then he set the vessel down and looked up. +But as he looked he staggered and turned pale, and would have fallen; he +grasped the ivory chair behind him and stood trembling in every joint, +and his knees knocking together, while his eyes seemed starting from +his head, and all his face was changed and distorted with dreadful fear. + +Upon the red plaster of the wall, over against the candlestick which +shed its strong rays upon the fearful sight, the fingers of a vast hand +moved and traced letters. Only the fingers could be seen, colossal and +of dazzling brightness, and as they slowly did their work, huge +characters of fire blazed out upon the dark red surface, and their +lambent angry flame dazzled those who beheld, and the terror of terrors +fell upon all the great throng; for they stood before Him whose shadow +is immortality and death. + +In a silence that could be felt, the dread hand completed its message +and vanished out of sight, but the strange fire burned bright in the +horrid characters of the writing that remained upon the wall. + +This was the inscription in Chaldean letters: + + SUTMM + IPKNN + NRLAA + +Then at last the king found speech and shrieked aloud wildly, and he +commanded that they should bring in all the astrologers, the Chaldeans +and the diviners, for he was in great terror and he dreaded some fearful +and imminent catastrophe. + +"Whoever shall read this writing," he cried, his voice changed and +broken, "and declare to me the meaning of it, shall be clothed in +purple, and shall have a chain of gold about his neck and shall rule as +the third in the kingdom." + +Amidst the mighty confusion of fear, the wise men were brought in before +the king. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +In Ecbatana of Media Daniel dwelt in his extreme old age. There he built +himself a tower within the seven-fold walls of the royal fortress, upon +the summit of the hill, looking northward towards the forests of the +mountains, and southward over the plain, and eastward to the river, and +westward to Mount Zagros. His life was spent, and he was well-nigh a +hundred years old. Seventeen years had passed since he had interpreted +the fatal writing on the wall of the banquet-hall in Babylon in the +night when Nabonnedon Belshazzar was slain, and the kingdom of the +Assyrians destroyed for ever. Again and again invested with power and +with the governorship of provinces, he had toiled unceasingly in the +reigns of Cyrus and Cambyses, and though he was on the very boundary of +possible lifetime, his brain was unclouded, and his eye keen and +undimmed still. Only his grand figure was more bent and his step slower +than before. + +He dwelt in Ecbatana of the north, in the tower he had built for +himself.[1] In the midst of the royal palaces of the stronghold he had +laid the foundations duly to the north and south, and story upon story +had risen, row upon row of columns, balcony upon balcony of black +marble, sculptured richly from basement to turret, and so smooth and +hard, that its polished corners and sides and ornaments glittered like +black diamonds in the hot sun of the noonday, and cast back the +moonbeams at night in a darkly brilliant reflection. + + [Footnote 1: Josephus, _Antiquities of the Jews_, book x. chap. + xi. 7.] + +Far down below, in the gorgeous dwellings that filled the interior of +the fortress, dwelt the kinsfolk of the aged prophet, and the families +of the two Levites who had remained with Daniel and had chosen to +follow him to his new home in Media rather than to return to Jerusalem +under Zerubbabel, when Cyrus issued the writ for the rebuilding of the +temple. There lived also in the palace Zoroaster, the Persian prince, +being now in the thirty-first year of his age, and captain of the city +and of the stronghold. And there, too, surrounded by her handmaidens and +slaves, in a wing of the palace apart from the rest, and more beautiful +for its gardens and marvellous adornment, lived Nehushta, the last of +the descendants of Jehoiakim the king remaining in Media; she was the +fairest of all the women in Media, of royal blood and of more than royal +beauty. + +She was born in that year when Babylon was overthrown, and Daniel had +brought her with him to Shushan when he had quitted Assyria, and thence +to Ecbatana. In the care of the prophet's kinswomen the little maid had +thriven and grown fair in the stranger's land. Her soft child's eyes had +lost their wondering look and had turned very proud and dark, and the +long black lashes that fringed the heavy lids drooped to her cheek when +she looked down. Her features were noble and almost straight in outline, +but in the slight bend, at the beginning of the nose, in the wide curved +nostrils, the strong full lips, and in the pale olive skin, where the +blood ebbed and flowed so generously, the signs of the Jewish race were +all present and unmistakable. + +Nehushta, the high-born lady of Judah, was a princess in every movement, +in every action, in every word she uttered. The turn of her proud head +was sovereign in its expression of approval or contempt, and Zoroaster +himself bowed to the simple gesture of her hand as obediently as he +would have done before the Great King in all his glory. Even the +venerable prophet, sitting in his lofty tower high above the city and +the fortress, absorbed in the contemplation of that other life which was +so very near to him, smiled tenderly and stretched out his old hands to +greet Nehushta when she mounted to his chamber at sunset, attended by +her maidens and her slaves. She was the youngest of all his +kinsfolk--fatherless and motherless, the last direct descendant of King +Jehoiakim remaining in Media, and the aged prophet and governor +cherished her and loved her for her royalty, as well as for her beauty +and her kinship to himself. Assyrian in his education, Persian in his +adherence to the conquering dynasty and in his long and faithful service +of the Persians, Daniel was yet in his heart, as in his belief, a true +son of Judah; proud of his race and tender of its young branches, as +though he were himself the father of his country and the king of his +people. + +The last red glow of the departed day faded and sank above the black +Zagros mountains to westward. The opposite sky was cold and gray, and +all the green plain turned to a dull soft hue as the twilight crept +over it, ever darker and more misty. In the gardens of the palace the +birds in thousands sang together in chorus, as only Eastern birds do +sing at sunrise and at nightfall, and their voices sounded like one +strong, sweet, high chord, unbroken and drawn out. + +Nehushta wandered in the broad paths alone. The dry warm air of the +summer's evening had no chill in it, and though a fine woven mantle of +purple from Srinagur hung loosely from her shoulders, she needed not to +draw it about her. The delicate folds of her upper tunic fell closely +around her to her knees, and were gathered at the waist by a magnificent +belt of wrought gold and pearls; the long sleeves, drawn in at the wrist +by clasps of pearls, almost covered her slender hands; and as she walked +her delicate feet moved daintily in rich embroidered sandals with high +golden heels, below the folds of the wide trousers of white and gold +embroidery, gathered in at the ankle. Upon her head the stiff linen +tiara of spotless white sat proudly as a royal crown, the folds of it +held by a single pearl of price, and from beneath it her magnificent +hair rolled down below her waist in dark smooth waves. + +There was a terrace that looked eastward from the gardens. Thither +Nehushta bent her steps, slowly, as though in deep thought, and when she +reached the smooth marble balustrade, she leaned over it and let her +dark eyes rest on the quiet landscape. The peace of the evening +descended upon her; the birds of the day ceased singing with the growing +darkness; and slowly, out of the plain, the yellow moon soared up and +touched the river and the meadows with mystic light; while far off, in +the rose-thickets of the gardens, the first notes of a single +nightingale floated upon the scented breeze, swelling and trilling, +quivering and falling again, in a glory of angelic song. The faint air +fanned her cheek, the odours of the box and the myrtle and the roses +intoxicated her senses, and as the splendid shield of the rising moon +cast its broad light into her dreaming eyes, her heart overflowed, and +Nehushta the princess lifted up her voice and sang an ancient song of +love, in the tongue of her people, to a soft minor melody, that sounded +like a sigh from the southern desert. + + _"Come unto me, my beloved, in the warmth of the darkness, come-- + Rise, and hasten thy footsteps, to be with me at night-time, come! + + "I wait in the darkness for him, and the sand of the desert whirling + Is blown at the door of my tent which is open toward the desert. + + "My ear in the darkness listeth for the sound of his coming nearer, + Mine eyes watch for him and rest not, for I would not he found me + sleeping. + + "For when my beloved cometh, he is like the beam of the morning;[2] + Ev'n as the dawn in a strange land to the sight of a man journeying. + + "Yea, when my beloved cometh, as dew that descendeth from heaven, + No man can hear when it falleth, but as rain it refresheth all + things. + + "In his hand bringeth he lilies, in his right hand are many flowers, + Roses hath he on his forehead, he is crowned with roses from Shinar. + + "The night-winds make sweet songs for him, even in the darkness soft + music; + Whithersoever he goeth, there his sweetness goeth before him."_ + + [Footnote 2: "Thou art to me as the beam of the east rising in + a strange land."--_Ossian_.] + +Her young voice died away in a soft murmuring cadence, and the +nightingale alone poured out her heartful of lore to the ancient moon. +But as Nehushta rested immovable by the marble balustrade of the +terrace, there was a rustle among the myrtles and a quick step on the +pavement. The dark maiden started at the sound, and a happy smile parted +her lips. But she did not turn to look; only her hand stole out behind +her on the marble where she knew her lover's would meet it. There was in +the movement all the certainty of conquest and yet all the tenderness of +love. The Persian trod quickly and laid his hand on hers, and bent to +her, trying to meet her eyes: for one moment still she gazed out +straight before her, then turned and faced him suddenly, as though she +had withheld her welcome as long as she could and then given it all at +once. + +"I did not call you," she said, covering him with her eyes in the +moonlight, but making as though she would withdraw herself a little from +him, as he drew her with his hand, and with his arm, and with his eyes. + +"And yet I heard you call me, my beloved," answered Zoroaster. "I heard +your voice singing very sweet things in your own language--and so I +came, for you did call me." + +"But did you pride yourself it was for you?" laughed Nehushta. "I sang +of the desert, and of tents, and of whirling sand--there is none of +these things here." + +"You said that your beloved brought roses in his hand--and so I do. I +will crown you with them. May I? No--I shall spoil your head-dress. Take +them and do as you will with them." + +"I will take them--and--I always do as I will." + +"Then will to take the giver also," answered Zoroaster, letting his arm +steal about her, as he half sat upon the balustrade. Nehushta looked at +him again, for he was good to see, and perhaps she loved his straight +calm features the better in that his face was fair, and not dark like +hers. + +"Methinks I have taken the giver already," she answered. + +"Not yet--not all," said Zoroaster in a low voice, and a shadow of +sadness crossed his noble face that looked white in the moonlight. +Nehushta sighed softly and presently she laid her cheek upon his +shoulder where the folding of his purple mantle made a pillow between +her face and the polished golden scales of his breastplate. + +"I have strange news to tell you, beloved," said Zoroaster presently. +Nehushta started and looked up, for his voice was sad. "Nay, fear not!" +he continued, "there is no harm in it, I trust; but there are great +changes in the kingdom, and there will be greater changes yet. The seven +princes have slain Smerdis in Shushan, and Darius is chosen king, the +son of Gushtasp, whom the Greeks call Hystaspes." + +"He who came hither last year?" asked Nehushta quickly. "He is not fair, +this new king." + +"Not fair," replied the Persian, "but a brave man and a good. He has, +moreover, sent for me to go to Shushan--" + +"For you!" cried Nehushta, suddenly laying her two hands on Zoroaster's +shoulders and gazing into his eyes. His face was to the moonlight, while +hers was in the dark, and she could see every shade of expression. He +smiled. "You laugh at me!" she cried indignantly. "You mock me--you are +going away and you are glad!" + +She would have turned away from him, but he held her two hands. + +"Not alone," he answered. "The Great King has sent an order that I shall +bring to Shushan the kinsfolk of Jehoiakim, saving only Daniel, our +master, for he is so old that he cannot perform the journey. The king +would honour the royal seed of Judah, and to that end he sends for you, +most noble and most beloved princess." + +Nehushta was silent and thoughtful; her hand slipped from Zoroaster's +grasp, and her eyes looked dreamily out at the river, on which the beams +of the now fully-risen moon glanced, as on the scales of a silver +serpent. + +"Are you glad, my beloved?" asked Zoroaster. He stood with his back to +the balustrade, leaning on one elbow, and his right hand played +carelessly with the heavy gold tassels of his cloak. He had come up from +the fortress in his armour, as he was, to bring the news to Nehushta and +to Daniel; his gilded harness was on his back, half-hidden by the ample +purple cloak, his sword was by his side, and on his head he wore the +pointed helmet, richly inlaid with gold, bearing in front the winged +wheel which the sovereigns of the Persian empire had assumed after the +conquest of Assyria. His very tall and graceful body seemed planned to +combine the greatest possible strength with the most surpassing +activity, and in his whole presence there breathed the consciousness of +ready and elastic power, the graceful elasticity of a steel bow always +bent, the inexpressible ease of motion and the matchless swiftness that +men had when the world was young--that wholeness of harmonious +proportion which alone makes rest graceful, and the inactivity of +idleness itself like a mode of perfect motion. As they stood there +together, the princess of Judah and the noble Persian, they were wholly +beautiful and yet wholly contrasted--the Semite and the Aryan, the dark +race of the south, on which the hot air of the desert had breathed for +generations in the bondage of Egypt, and left its warm sign-manual of +southern sunshine,--and the fair man of the people whose faces were +already set northwards, on whom the north breathed already its icy +fairness, and magnificent coldness of steely strength. + +"Are you glad, my beloved?" asked Zoroaster again, looking up and laying +his right hand on the princess's arm. She had given no answer to his +question, but only gazed dreamily out over the river. + +She seemed about to speak, then paused again, then hesitated and +answered his question by another. + +"Zoroaster--you love me," again she paused, and, as he passionately +seized her hands and pressed his lips to them, she said softly, turning +her head away, "What is love?" + +He, too, waited one moment before he answered, and, standing to his +lordly height, took her head between his hands and pressed it to his +breast; then, with one arm around her, he stood looking eastward and +spoke: + +"Listen, my beloved, and I, who love you, will tell you what love is. In +the far-off dawn of the soul-life, in the ethereal distance of the outer +firmament, in the mist of the star-dust, our spirits were quickened with +the spirit of God, and found one another, and met. Before earth was for +us, we were one; before time was for us, we were one--even as we shall +be one when there is no time for us any more. Then Ahura Mazda, the +all-wise God, took our two souls from among the stars, and set them in +the earth, clothed for a time with mortal bodies. But we know each +other, that we were together from the first, although these earthly +things obscure our immortal vision, and we see each other less clearly. +Yet is our love none the less--rather, it seems every day greater, for +our bodies can feel joy and sorrow, even as our spirits do; so that I am +able to suffer for you, in which I rejoice, and I would that I might be +chosen to lay down my life for you, that you might know how I love you; +for often you doubt me, and sometimes you doubt yourself. There should +be no doubt in love. Love is from the first, and will be to the end, and +beyond the end; love is so eternal, so great, so whole, that this mortal +life of ours is but as a tiny instant, a moment of pausing in our +journey from one star-world to another along the endless paths of +heavenly glory we shall tread, together--it is nothing, this worldly +life of ours. Before it shall seem long that we have loved, this earth +we stand on, these things we touch, these bodies of ours that we think +so strong and fair, will be forgotten and dissolved into their elements +in the trackless and undiscoverable waste of past mortality, while we +ourselves are ever young, and ever fair, and for ever living in our +immortal love." + +Nehushta looked up wonderingly into her lover's eyes, then let her head +rest on his shoulder. The high daring of his thoughts seemed ever trying +to scale heaven itself, seeking to draw her to some wondrous region of +mystic beauty and strange spirit life. She was awed for a moment, then +she, too, spoke in her own fashion. + +"I love life," she said, "I love you because you live, not because you +are a spirit chained and tied down for a time. I love this soft sweet +earth, the dawn of it, and the twilight of it; I love the sun in his +rising and in his setting; I love the moon in her fulness and in her +waning; I love the smell of the box and of the myrtle, of the roses and +of the violets; I love the glorious light of day, the splendour of heat +and greenness, the song of the birds of the air and the song of the +labourer in the field, the hum of the locust, and the soft buzzing of +the bee; I love the brightness of gold and the richness of fine purple, +the tramp of your splendid guards and the ring of their trumpets +clanging in the fresh morning, as they march through the marble courts +of the palace. I love the gloom of night for its softness, the song of +the nightingale in the ivory moonlight, the rustle of the breeze in the +dark rose-thickets, and the odour of the sleeping flowers in my gardens; +I love even the cry of the owl from the prophet's tower, and the soft +thick sound of the bat's wings, as he flits past the netting of my +window. I love it all, for the whole earth is rich and young and good to +touch, and most sweet to live in. And I love you because you are more +beautiful than other men, fairer and stronger and braver, and because +you love me, and will let no other love me but yourself, if you were to +die for it. Ah, my beloved, I would that I had all the sweet voices of +the earth, all the tuneful tongues of the air, to tell you how I love +you!" + +"There is no lack of sweetness, nor of eloquence, my princess," said +Zoroaster; "there is no need of any voice sweeter than yours, nor of any +tongue more tuneful. You love in your way, I in mine; the two together +must surely be the perfect whole. Is it not so? Nay--seal the deed once +again--and again--so! 'Love is stronger than death,' says your +preacher." + +"'And jealousy is as cruel as the grave,' he says, too," added Nehushta, +her eyes flashing fire as her lips met his. "You must never make me +jealous, Zoroaster, never, never! I would be so cruel--you cannot dream +how cruel I would be!" + +Zoroaster laughed under his silken beard, a deep, joyous, ringing laugh +that startled the moonlit stillness. + +"By Nabon and Bel, there is small cause for your jealousy here," he +said. + +"Swear not by your false gods!" laughed Nehushta. "You know not how +little it would need to rouse me." + +"I will not give you that little," answered the Persian. "And as for the +false gods, they are well enough for a man to swear by in these days. +But I will swear by any one you command me, or by anything!" + +"Swear not, or you will say again that the oath has need of sealing," +replied Nehushta, drawing her mantle around her, so as to cover half her +face. "Tell me, when are we to begin our journey? We have talked much +and have said little, as it ever is. Shall we go at once, or are we to +wait for another order? Is Darius safe upon the throne? Who is to be +chiefest at the court--one of the seven princes, I suppose, or his old +father? Come, do you know anything of all these changes? Why have you +never told me what was going to happen--you who are high in power and +know everything?" + +"Your questions flock upon me like doves to a maiden who feeds them +from her hand," said Zoroaster, with a smile, "and I know not which +shall be fed first. As for the king, I know that he will be great, and +will hold securely the throne, for he has already the love of the people +from the Western sea to the wild Eastern mountains. But it seemed as +though the seven princes would have divided the empire amongst them, +until this news came. I think he will more likely take one of your +people for his close friend than trust to the princes. As for our +journey, we must depart betimes, or the king will have gone before us +from Shushan to Stakhar in the south, where they say he will build +himself a royal dwelling and stay in the coming winter time. Prepare +yourself for the journey, therefore, my princess, lest anything be +forgotten and you should be deprived of what you need for any time." + +"I am never deprived of what I need," said Nehushta, half in pride and +half in jest. + +"Nor I, when I am with my beloved!" answered the Persian. "And now the +moon is high, and I must bear this news to our master, the prophet." + +"So soon?" said Nehushta reproachfully, and she turned her head away. + +"I would there were no partings, my beloved, even for the space of an +hour," answered Zoroaster, tenderly drawing her to him; but she resisted +a little and would not look at him. + +"Farewell now--good-night, my princess--light of my soul;" he kissed her +dark cheek passionately. "Good-night!" + +He trod swiftly across the terrace. + +"Zoroaster! prince!" Nehushta called aloud, but without turning. He +came back. She threw her arms about his neck and kissed him almost +desperately. Then she pushed him gently away from her. + +"Go--my love--only that," she murmured, and he left her standing by the +marble balustrade, while the yellow moon turned slowly pale as she rose +in the heavens, and the song of the lorn nightingale re-echoed in the +still night, from the gardens to the towers, in long sweet cries of +burning love, and soft, complaining, silvery notes of mingled sorrow and +joy. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +In the prophet's chamber, also, the moonbeams fell upon the marble +floor; but a seven-beaked Hebrew lamp of bronze shed a warmer light +around, soft and mellow, yet strong enough to illuminate the scroll that +lay open upon the old man's knee. His brows were knit together, and the +furrows on his face were shaded deeply by the high light, as he sat +propped among many cushions and wrapped in his ample purple cloak that +was thickly lined with fur and drawn together over his snowy beard; for +the years of his life were nearly accomplished, and the warmth of his +body was even then leaving him. + +Zoroaster raised the heavy curtain of carpet that hung before the low +square door, and came and bowed himself before the teacher of his youth +and the friend of his manhood. The prophet looked up keenly, and +something like a smile crossed his stern features as his eyes rested on +the young officer in his magnificent armour; Zoroaster held his helmet +in his hand, and his fair hair fell like a glory to his shoulders, +mingling with his silky beard upon his breastplate. His dark blue eyes +met his master's fearlessly. + +"Hail! and live for ever, chosen of the Lord!" he said in salutation. "I +bring tidings of great moment and importance. If it be thy pleasure, I +will speak; but if not, I will come at another season." + +"Sit upon my right hand, Zoroaster, and tell me all that thou hast to +tell. Art thou not my beloved son, whom the Lord hath given me to +comfort mine old age?" + +"I am thy servant and the servant of thine house, my father," answered +Zoroaster, seating himself upon a carved chair at a little distance from +the prophet. + +"Speak, my son,--what tidings hast thou?" + +"There is a messenger come in haste from Shushan, bearing tidings and +letters. The seven princes have slain Smerdis in his house, and have +chosen Darius the son of Gushtasp to be king." + +"Praise be to the Lord who hath chosen a just man!" exclaimed the +prophet devoutly. "So may good come out of evil, and salvation by the +shedding of blood." + +"Even so, my master," answered Zoroaster. "It is also written that +Darius, may he live for ever, will establish himself very surely upon +the throne of the Medes and Persians. There are letters by the hand of +the same messenger, sealed with the signet of the Great King, wherein I +am bidden to bring the kinsfolk of Jehoiakim, who was king over Judah, +to Shushan without delay, that the Great King may do them honour as is +meet and right; but what that honour may be that he would do to them, I +know not." + +"What is this that thou sayest?" asked Daniel, starting forward from his +reclining position, and fixing his dark eyes on Zoroaster. "Will the +king take away from me the children of my old age? Art not thou as my +son? And is not Nehushta as my daughter? As for the rest, I care not if +they go. But Nehushta is as the apple of my eye! She is as a fair flower +growing in the desert of my years! What is this that the king hath done +to me? Whither will he take her from me?" + +"Let not my lord be troubled," said Zoroaster, earnestly, for he was +moved by the sudden grief of the prophet. "Let not my lord be troubled. +It is but for a space, for a few weeks; and thy kinsfolk will be with +thee again, and I also." + +"A space, a few weeks! What is a space to thee, child, or a week that +thou shouldest regard it? But I am old and full of years. It may be, if +now thou takest my daughter Nehushta from me, that I shall see her face +no more, neither thine, before I go hence and return not. Go to! Thou +art young, but I am now nigh unto a hundred years old." + +"Nevertheless, if it be the will of the Great King, I must accomplish +this thing," answered the young man. "But I will swear by thy head and +by mine that there shall no harm happen to the young princess; and if +anything happen to her that is evil, may the Lord do so to me and more +also. Behold, I have sworn; let not my lord be troubled any more." + +But the prophet bowed his head and covered his face with his hands. Aged +and childless, Zoroaster and Nehushta were to him children, and he loved +them with his whole soul. Moreover, he knew the Persian Court, and he +knew that if once they were taken into the whirl and eddy of its +intrigue and stirring life, they would not return to Ecbatana; or +returning, they would be changed and seem no more the same. He was +bitterly grieved and hurt at the thought of such a separation, and in +the grand simplicity of his greatness he felt no shame at shedding +tears for them. Zoroaster himself, in the pride of his brilliant youth, +was overcome with pain at the thought of quitting the sage who had been +a father to him for thirty years. He had never been separated from +Daniel save for a few months at a time during the wars of Cambyses; at +six-and-twenty years of age he had been appointed to the high position +of captain of the fortress of Ecbatana; since which time he had enjoyed +the closest intercourse with the prophet, his master. + +Zoroaster was a soldier by force of circumstances, and he wore his +gorgeous arms with matchless grace, but there were two things that, with +him, went before his military profession, and completely eclipsed it in +importance. + +From his earliest youth he had been the pupil of Daniel, who had +inspired him with his own love of the mystic lore to which the prophet +owed so much of his singular success in the service of the Assyrian and +Persian monarchs. The boy's poetical mind, strengthened and developed by +the study of the art of reasoning, and of the profound mathematical +knowledge of the Chaldean astronomers, easily grasped the highest +subjects, and showed from the first a capacity and lucidity that +delighted his master. To attain by a life of rigid ascetic practice to +the intuitive comprehension of knowledge, to the understanding of +natural laws not discernible to the senses alone, and to the merging of +the soul and higher intelligence in the one universal and divine +essence, were the objects Daniel proposed to his willing pupil. The +noble boy, by his very nature, scorned and despised the pleasures of +sense, and yearned ever for the realising of an ideal wherein a sublime +wisdom of transcendent things should direct a sublime courage in things +earthly to the doing of great deeds. + +Year after year the young Persian grew up in the splendid surroundings +of the court, distinguished before all those of his age for his courage +and fearless honesty, for his marvellous beauty, and for his profound +understanding of all subjects, great and small, that came within the +sphere of his activity; most of all remarkable, perhaps, for the fact +that he cared nothing for the society of women, and had never been known +to love any woman. He was a favourite with Cyrus; and even Cambyses, +steeped in degrading vice, and surrounded by flatterers, panderers, and +priests of the Magians, from the time when he began to suspect his +brother, the real Smerdis, of designs upon the throne, recognised the +exceptional merits and gifts of the young noble, and promoted him to his +position in Echatana, at the time when he permitted Daniel to build his +great tower in that ancient fortress. The dissipated king may have +understood that the presence of such men as Daniel and Zoroaster would +be of greater advantage in an outlying district where justice and +moderation would have a good effect upon the population, than in his +immediate neighbourhood, where the purity and temperance of their lives +contrasted too strongly with the degrading spectacle his own vices +afforded to the court. + +Here, in the splendid retirement of a royal palace, the prophet had +given himself up completely to the contemplation of those subjects +which, through all his life, had engrossed his leisure time, and of +which the knowledge had so directly contributed to his singular career; +and in the many hours of leisure which Zoroaster's position allowed him, +Daniel sought to bring the intelligence of the soldier-philosopher to +the perfection of its final development. Living, as he did, entirely in +his tower, save when, at rare intervals, he caused himself to be carried +down to the gardens, the prophet knew little of what went on in the +palace below, so that he sometimes marvelled that his pupil's attention +wandered, and that his language betrayed occasionally a keener interest +in his future, and in the possible vicissitudes of his military life, +than he had formerly been wont to show. + +For a new element had entered into the current of Zoroaster's thoughts. +For years he had seen the lovely child Nehushta growing up. As a boy of +twenty summers he had rocked her on his knee; later he had taught her +and played with her, and seen the little child turn to the slender girl, +haughty and royal in her young ways, and dominating her playfellows as a +little lioness might rule a herd of tamer creatures; and at last her +sixteenth year had brought with it the bloom of early southern +womanhood, and Zoroaster, laughing with her among the roses in the +gardens, on a summer's day, had felt his heart leap and sink within him, +and his own fair cheek grow hot and cold for the ring of her voice and +the touch of her soft hand. + +He who knew so much of mankind, who had lived so long at the court, and +had coldly studied every stage of human nature, where unbridled human +nature ever ruled the hour, knew what he felt; and it was as though he +had received a sharp wound that thrust him through, body and heart and +soul, and cleft his cold pride in two. For days he wandered beneath the +pines and the rhododendron trees alone, lamenting for the fabric of +mighty philosophy he had built himself, in which no woman was ever to +set foot; and which a woman's hand, a woman's eyes had shattered in a +day. It seemed as if his whole life were blasted and destroyed, so that +he was become even as other men, to suffer love and eat his heart out +for a girl's fair word. He would have escaped from meeting the dark +young princess again; but one evening, as he stood alone upon the +terrace of the gardens, sorrowing for the change in himself, she found +him, and there they looked into each other's eyes and saw a new light, +and loved each other fiercely from that day, as only the untainted +children of godlike races could love. But neither of them dared to tell +the prophet, nor to let those of the palace know that they had pledged +each other their troth, down there upon the moonlit terrace, behind the +myrtles. Instinctively they dreaded lest the knowledge of their love +should raise a storm of anger in Daniel's breast at the idea that his +chosen philosopher should abandon the paths of mystic learning and +reduce himself to the level of common mankind by marriage; and Zoroaster +guessed how painful to the true Israelite would be the thought that a +daughter and a princess of Judah should be united in wedlock with one +who, however noble and true and wise, was, after all, a stranger and an +unbeliever. For Zoroaster, while devoting himself heart and soul to the +study of Daniel's philosophy, and of the wisdom the latter had acquired +from the Chaldeans, had nevertheless firmly maintained his independence +of thought. He was not an Israelite, nor would he ever wish to become +one; but he was not an idolater nor a Magian, nor a follower of Gomata, +the half-Indian Brahmin, who had endeavoured to pass himself off as +Smerdis the son of Cyrus. + +Either of these causes alone would have sufficed to raise a serious +obstacle to the marriage. Together they seemed insurmountable. During +the disorder and anarchy that prevailed in the seven months of the reign +of Pseudo-Smerdis, it would have been madness to have married, trusting +to the favour of the wretched semi-monarch for fortune and advancement; +nor could Nehushta have married and maintained her state as a princess +of Judah without the consent of Daniel, who was her guardian, and whose +influence was paramount in Media, and very great even at court. +Zoroaster was therefore driven to conceal his passion as best he could, +trusting to the turn of future events for the accomplishment of his +dearest wish. In the meanwhile, he and the princess met daily in public, +and Zoroaster's position as captain of the fortress gave him numerous +opportunities of meeting Nehushta in the solitude of the gardens, which +were jealously guarded and set apart exclusively for the use of Nehushta +and her household. + +But now that the moment had come when it seemed as though a change were +to take place in the destinies of the lovers, they felt constrained. +Beyond a few simple questions and answers, they had not discussed the +matter of the journey when they were together; for Nehushta was so much +surprised and delighted at the idea of again seeing the magnificence of +the court at Shushan, which she so well remembered from the period of +her childhood, that she feared to let Zoroaster see how glad she was to +leave Ecbatana, which, but for him, would have been to her little better +than a prison. He, on the contrary, thinking that he foresaw an +immediate removal of all obstacle and delay through the favor of Darius, +was, nevertheless, too gentle and delicate of tact to bring suddenly +before Nehushta's mind the prospect of marrying which presented itself +so vividly to his own fancy. But he felt no less disturbed in his heart +when face to face with the old prophet's sorrow at losing his +foster-daughter; and, for the first time in his life, he felt guilty +when he reflected that Daniel was grieved at his own departure almost as +deeply as on account of Nehushta. He experienced what is so common with +persons of cold and even temperament when brought into close relation +with more expansive and affectionate natures; he was overcome with the +sense that his old master gave him more love and more thought than he +could possibly give in return, and that he was therefore ungrateful; and +the knowledge he alone possessed, that he surely intended to marry the +princess in spite of the prophet, and by the help of the king, added +painfully to his mental suffering. + +The silence lasted some minutes, till the old man suddenly lifted his +head and leaned back among his cushions, gazing at his companion's +face. + +"Hast thou no sorrow, nor any regret?" he asked sadly. + +"Nay, my lord doth me injustice," answered Zoroaster, his brows +contracting in his perplexity. "I should be ungrateful if I repented not +leaving thee even for the space of a day. But let my lord be comforted; +this parting is not for long, and before the flocks come down from +Zagros to take shelter from the winter, we will be with thee." + +"Swear to me, then, that thou wilt return before the winter," insisted +the prophet half-scornfully. + +"I cannot swear," answered Zoroaster. "Behold, I am in the hands of the +Great King. I cannot swear." + +"Say rather that thou art in the hand of the Lord, and that therefore +thou canst not swear. For I say thou wilt not return, and I shall see +thy face no more. The winter cometh, and the birds of the air fly +towards the south, and I am alone in the land of snow and frost; and the +spring cometh also, and I am yet alone, and my time is at hand; for thou +comest not any more, neither my daughter Nehushta, neither any of my +kinsfolk. And behold, I go down to the grave alone." + +The yellow light of the hanging lamp above shone upon the old man's +eyes, and there was a dull fire in them. His face was drawn and haggard, +and every line and furrow traced by the struggles of his hundred years +stood out dark and rugged and tremendous in power. Zoroaster shuddered +as he looked on him, and, though he would have spoken, he was awed to +silence. + +"Go forth, my son," cried the prophet in deep tones, and as he spoke he +slowly raised his body till he sat rigidly erect, and his wan and +ancient fingers were stretched out towards the young soldier. "Go forth +and do thy part, for thou art in the hand of the Lord, and some things +that thou wilt do shall be good, and some things evil. For thou hast +departed from the path of crystal that leadeth among the stars, and thou +hast fallen away from the ladder whereby the angels ascend and descend +upon the earth, and thou art gone after the love of a woman which +endureth not. And for a season thou shalt be led astray, and for a time +thou shalt suffer great things; and after a time thou shalt return into +the way; and again a time, and thou shalt perish in thine own +imaginations, because thou hast not known the darkness from the light, +nor the good from the evil. By a woman shalt thou go astray, and from a +woman shalt thou return; yet thou shalt perish. But because there is +some good in thee, it shall endure, and thy name also, for generations; +and though the evil that besetteth thee shall undo thee, yet at the last +thy soul shall live." + +Zoroaster buried his face in his hands, overcome by the majesty of the +mighty prophet and by the terror of his words. + +"Rise and go forth, for the hand of the Lord is upon thee, and no man +can hinder that thou doest. Thou shalt look upon the sun and shalt +delight in him; and again thou shalt look and the light of the air shall +be as darkness. Thou shalt boast in thy strength and in thine armour +that there is none like thee, and again thou shalt cast thy glory from +thee and say, 'This also is vanity.' The king delighteth in thee, and +thou shalt stand before the queen in armour of gold and in fine raiment; +and the end is near, for the hand of the Lord is upon thee. If the Lord +will work great things by thee, what is that to me? Go forth quickly, +and rest not by the way, lest the woman tempt thee and thou perish. And +as for me, I go also--not with thee, but before thee. See that thou +follow after--for I go. Yea, I see even now light in the darkness of the +world, and the glory of the triumph of heaven is over me, triumphing +greatly in the majesty of light." + +Zoroaster looked up and fell to the ground upon his knees in wonder and +amazement at Daniel's feet, while his heavy helmet rolled clanging on +the marble pavement. The prophet stood erect as a giant oak, stretching +his withered hands to heaven, all the mass of his snow-white hair and +beard falling about him to his waist. His face was illuminated as from +within with a strange light, and his dark eyes turned upward seemed to +receive and absorb the brightness of an open heaven. His voice rang +again with the strength of youth, and his whole figure was clothed as +with the majesty of another world. Again he spoke: + +"Behold, the voice of the ages is in me, and the Lord my God hath taken +me up. My days are ended; I am taken up and shall no more be cast down. +The earth departeth and the glory of the Lord is come which hath no end +for ever." + +"The Lord cometh--He cometh quickly. In His right hand are the ages, and +the days and the nights are under His feet. His ranks of the Cherubim +are beside Him, and the armies of the Seraphim are dreadful. The stars +of heaven tremble, and the voice of their moaning is as the voice of the +uttermost fear. The arch of the outer firmament is shivered like a +broken bow, and the curtain of the sky is rent in pieces as a veil in +the tempest. The sun and the moon shriek aloud, and the sea crieth +horribly before the Lord." + +"The nations are extinct as the ashes of a fire that is gone out, and +the princes of the earth are no more. He hath bruised the earth in a +mortar, and the dust of it is scattered abroad in the heavens. The stars +in their might hath He pounded to pieces, and the foundations of the +ages to fine powder. There is nothing of them left, and their voices are +dead. There are dim shapes in the horror of emptiness." + +"But out of the north ariseth a fair glory with brightness, and the +breath of the Lord breatheth life into all things. The beam of the dawn +is risen, and there shall again be times and seasons, and the Being of +the majesty of God is made manifest in form. From the dust of the earth +is the earth made again, and of the beams of His glory shall He make new +stars." + +"Send up the voices of praise, O ye things that are; cry out in +exultation with mighty music! Praise the Lord in whom is Life, and in +whom all things have Being! Praise Him and glorify Him that is risen +with the wings of the morning of heaven; in whose breath the stars +breathe, in whose brightness also the firmament is lightened! Praise Him +who maketh the wheels of the spheres to run their courses; who maketh +the flowers to bloom in the spring, and the little flowers of the field +to give forth their sweetness! Praise Him, winter and summer; praise +Him, cold and heat! Praise Him, stars of heaven; praise Him, men and +women in the earth! Praise and glory and honour be unto the Most High +Jehovah, who sitteth upon the Throne for ever, and ever, and ever...." + +The prophet's voice rang out with tremendous force and majestic +clearness as he uttered the last words. Throwing up his arms to their +height, he stood one moment longer, immovable, his face radiantly +illuminated with an unearthly glory. One instant he stood there, and +then fell back, straight and rigid, to his length upon the cushioned +floor--dead! + +Zoroaster started to his feet in amazement and horror, and stood staring +at the body of his master and friend lying stiff and stark beneath the +yellow light of the hanging lamp. Then suddenly he sprang forward and +kneeled again beside the pale noble head that looked so grand in death. +He took one of the hands and chafed it, he listened for the beating of +the heart that beat no more, and sought for the stirring of the least +faint breath of lingering life. But he sought in vain; and there, in the +upper chamber of the tower, the young warrior fell upon his face and +wept alone by the side of the mighty dead. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +Thus died Daniel, and for seven days the women sat apart upon the ground +and mourned him, while the men embalmed his body and made it ready for +burial. They wrapped him in much fine linen and poured out very precious +spices and ointments from the store-houses of the palaces. Round about +his body they burned frankincense and myrrh and amber, and the gums of +the Indian benzoe and of the Persian fir, and great candles of pure wax; +for all the seven days the mourners from the city made a great mourning, +ceasing not to sing the praises of the prophet and to cry aloud by day +and night that the best and the worthiest and the greatest of all men +was dead. + +Thus they watched and mourned, and sang his great deeds. And in the +lower chamber of the tower the women sat upon the floor, with Nehushta +in their midst, and sorrowed greatly, fasting and mourning in raiment of +sackcloth, and strewing ashes upon the floor and upon themselves. +Nehushta's face grew thin and very pale and her lips white in that time, +and she let her heavy hair hang neglected about her. Many of the men +shaved their heads and went barefooted, and the fortress and the palaces +were filled with the sound of weeping and grief. The Hebrews who were +there mourned their chief, and the two Levites sat beside the dead man +and read long chapters from their scriptures. The Medes mourned their +great and just governor, under the Assyrian name of Belteshazzar, given +first to Daniel by Nebuchadnezzar; and from all the town the noise of +their weeping and mourning came up, like the mighty groan of a nation, +to the ears of those that dwelt in the fortress and the palace. + +On the eighth day they buried him, with pomp and state, in a tomb in the +garden which they had built during the week of mourning. The two Levites +and a young Hebrew and Zoroaster himself, clad in sackcloth and +barefooted, raised up the prophet's body upon a bier and bore him upon +their shoulders down the broad staircase of the tower and out into the +garden to his tomb. The mourners went before, many hundreds of Median +women with dishevelled hair, rending their dresses of sackcloth and +scattering ashes upon their path and upon their heads, crying aloud in +wild voices of grief and piercing the air with their screams, till they +came to the tomb and stood round about it while the four men laid their +master in his great coffin of black marble beneath the pines and the +rhododendrons. And the pipers followed after, making shrill and dreadful +music that sounded as though some supernatural beings added their voices +to the universal wail of woe. And on either side of the body walked the +women, the prophet's kinsfolk; but Nehushta walked by Zoroaster, and +ever and anon, as the funeral procession wound through the myrtle walks +of the deep gardens, her dark and heavy eyes stole a glance sidelong at +her strong fair lover. His face was white as death and set sternly +before him, and his dishevelled hair and golden beard flowed wildly +over the rough coarseness of his long sackcloth garments. But his step +never faltered, though he walked barefooted upon the hard gravel, and +from the upper chamber of the tower whence they bore the corpse to the +very moment when they laid it in the tomb, his face never changed, +neither looked he to the right nor to the left. And then, at last, when +they had lowered their beloved master with linen bands to his last +resting-place, and the women came near with boxes of nard and ambergris +and precious ointments, Zoroaster looked long and fixedly at the swathed +head, and the tears rolled down his cheeks and dropped upon his beard +and upon the marble of the coffin; till at last he turned in silence, +and went away through the multitude that parted before him, as pale as +the dead and answering no man's greeting, nor even glancing at Nehushta +who had stood at his elbow. And he went away and hid himself for the +rest of that day. + +But in the evening, when the sun was gone down, he came and stood upon +the terrace in the darkness, for there was no moon. He wore again his +arms, and his purple cloak was about him, for he had his duty to perform +in visiting the fortress. The starlight glimmered faintly on his +polished helmet and duskily made visible his marble features and his +beard. He stood with his back to the pillars of the balustrade, looking +towards the myrtles of the garden, for he knew that Nehushta would come +to the wonted tryst. He waited long, but at last he heard a step upon +the gravel path and the rustle of the myrtles, and presently in the +faint light he could see the white skirt of her garment beneath the dark +mantle moving swiftly towards him. He sprang forward to meet her and +would have taken her in his arms, but she put him back and looked away +from him while she walked slowly to the front of the terrace. Even in +the gloom of the starlight Zoroaster could see that something had +offended her, and a cold weight seemed to fall upon his breast and +chilled the rising words of loving greeting. + +Zoroaster followed her and laid his hand upon her shoulder. +Unresponsive, she allowed it to remain there. + +"My beloved," he said at last, trying in vain to look into her averted +face, "have you no word for me to-night?" Still she answered nothing. +"Has your sorrow made you forget our love?" he murmured close to her +ear. She started back from him a little and looked at him. Even in the +dusk he could see her eyes flash as she answered: + +"Had not your own sorrow so utterly got the mastery over you to-day that +you even refused to look at me?" she asked. "In all that long hour when +we were so near together, did you give me one glance? You had forgotten +me in the extremity of your grief!" she cried, scornfully. "And now that +the first torrent of your tears has dwindled to a little stream, you +have time to remember me! I thank my lord for the notice he deigns to +give his handmaiden, but--I need it not. Well--why are you here?" + +Zoroaster stood up to his height and folded his arms deliberately, +facing Nehushta, and he spoke calmly, though there was in his voice the +dulness of a great and sudden pain. He knew men well enough, but he knew +little of women. + +"There is a time to be sorrowful and a time for joy," he said. "There is +a time for weeping and a time for the glances of love. I did as I did, +because when a man has a great grief for one dead and when he desires to +show his sorrow in doing honour to one who has been as a father to him, +it is not meet that other thoughts should be in his mind; not even those +thoughts which are most dear to him and nearest to his heart. Therefore +I looked not at you when we were burying our master, and though I love +you and in my heart look ever on your face, yet to-day my eyes were +turned from you and I saw you not. Wherefore are you angry with me?" + +"I am not angry," said Nehushta, "but think you love me little that you +turn from me so easily." She looked down, and her face was quite hidden +in the dark shadow. Then Zoroaster put his arm about her neck and drew +her to him, and, though she resisted a little, in a moment her head +rested on his breast. Then she struggled again. + +"Nay, let me go, for you do not love me!" she said, half in a whisper. +But he held her close. + +"Nay, but you shall not go, for I do love you," he answered tenderly. + +"Shall not?" cried she, turning in his arms, half fiercely; then her +voice sank and thrilled softly. "Say that I will not," she murmured, and +her arms went round him and pressed him passionately to her. "Oh, my +beloved, why do you ever seem so cold? so cold--when I so love you?" + +"I am not cold," he said fondly, "and I love you beyond all power of +words to tell. Said we not that you had your way and I mine? Who shall +tell us which is the sweeter music when both unite in so grand a +harmony? Only doubt not, for doubting is as the drop that falls from the +eaves upon the marble corner-stone, and, by ever falling, wears furrows +in the stone that the whole ocean could not soften." + +"I will not doubt any more," said Nehushta suddenly, "only--can you not +love me a little sometimes in the way I do you? It is so sweet,--my way +of loving." + +"Indeed I will try, for it is very sweet," answered Zoroaster, and, +bending down, he kissed her lips. Far off from the tower the melancholy +cry of an owl echoed sadly across the gardens, and a cool damp breeze +sprang up suddenly, from the east. Nehushta shuddered slightly, and drew +her cloak about her. + +"Let us walk upon the terrace," she said, "it is cold to-night--is not +this the last night here?" + +"Yes; to-morrow we must go hence upon our journey. This is the last +night." + +Nehushta drew closer to her lover as they paced the terrace together, +and each wound one arm about the other. For some minutes they walked in +silence, each perhaps recalling the many meetings upon that very terrace +since the first time their lips met in love under the ivory moonlight of +the month Tammuz, more than a year ago. At last Nehushta spoke. + +"Know you this new king?" she asked. "I saw him but for a few moments +last year. He was a young prince, but he is not fair." + +"A young prince with an old man's head upon his shoulders," answered +Zoroaster. "He is a year younger than I--but I would not have his +battles to fight; nor, if I had, would I have taken Atossa to be my +wife." + +"Atossa?" repeated Nehushta. + +"Yes. The king has already married her--she was the wife of Cambyses, +and also of the false Smerdis, the Magian, whom Darius has slain." + +"Is she fair? Have I not seen her?" asked Nehushta quickly. + +"Indeed, you must have seen her at the court in Shushan, before we came +to Ecbatana. She was just married to Cambyses then, but he regarded her +little, for he was ever oppressed with wine and feasting. But you were a +child then, and were mostly with the women of your house, and you may +not have seen her." + +"Tell me--had she not blue eyes and yellow hair? Had she not a cruel +face--very cold?" + +"Aye, it may be that she had a hard look. I remember that her eyes were +blue. She was very unhappy; therefore she helped the Magian. It was not +she that betrayed him." + +"You pitied her even then, did you not?" asked Nehushta. + +"Yes--she deserved pity." + +"She will have her revenge now. A woman with a face like hers loves +revenge." + +"Then she will deserve pity no longer," said Zoroaster, with a slight +laugh. + +"I hate her!" said the princess, between her teeth. + +"Hate her? How can you hate a woman you have never more than seen, and +she has done you no evil in the world?" + +"I am sure I shall hate her," answered Nehushta. "She is not at all +beautiful--only cold and white and cruel. How could the Great King be so +foolish as to marry her?" + +"May he live for ever! He marries whom he pleases. But I pray you, do +not begin by hating the queen overmuch." + +"Why not? What have I to gain from the queen?" asked the princess. "Am I +not of royal blood as well as she?" + +"That is true," returned Zoroaster. "Nevertheless there is a prudence +for princesses as well as for other people." + +"I would not be afraid of the Great King himself with you beside me," +said Nehushta proudly. "But I will be prudent to please you. Only--I am +sure I shall hate her." + +Zoroaster smiled to himself in the dusk, but he would not have had the +princess see he was amused. + +"It shall be as you please," he said; "we shall soon know how it will +end, for we must begin our journey to-morrow." + +"It will need three weeks, will it not?" asked Nehushta. + +"Yes--it is at least one hundred and fifty farsangs. It would weary you +to travel more than seven or eight farsangs in a day's journey--indeed, +that is a long distance for any one." + +"We shall always be together, shall we not?" asked the princess. + +"I will ride beside your litter, my beloved," said Zoroaster. "But it +will be very tedious for you, and you will often be tired. The country +is very wild in some parts, and we must trust to what we can take with +us for our comfort. Do not spare the mules, therefore, but take +everything you need." + +"Besides, we may not return," said Nehushta thoughtfully. + +Her companion was silent. "Do you think we shall ever come back?" she +asked presently. + +"I have dreamed of coming back," answered Zoroaster; "but I fear it is +to be even as you say." + +"Why say you that you fear it! Is it not better to live at the court +than here in this distant fortress, so shut off from the world that we +might almost as well be among the Scythians? Oh, I long for the palace +at Shushan! I am sure it will seem tenfold more beautiful now than it +did when I was a child." + +Zoroaster sighed. In his heart he knew there was to be no returning to +Media, and yet he had dreamed of marrying the princess and being made +governor of the province, and bringing his wife home to this beautiful +land to live out a long life of quiet happiness. But he knew it was not +to be; and though he tried hard to shake off the impression, he felt in +his inmost self that the words of the dying prophet foretold truly what +would happen to him. Only he hoped that there was an escape, and the +passion in his heart scorned the idea that in loving Nehushta he was +being led astray, or made to abandon the right path. + +The cold breeze blew steadily from the east, with a chill dampness in +it, sighing wearily among the trees. The summer was not yet wholly come, +and the after-breath of the winter still made itself felt from time to +time. The lovers parted, taking leave of the spot they loved so +well,--Zoroaster with a heavy foreboding of evil to come; Nehushta with +a great longing for the morrow, a mad desire to be on the way to +Shushan. + +Something in her way of speaking had given Zoroaster a sense of pain. +Her interest in the court and in the Great King, the strange capricious +hatred that seemed already forming in her breast against Atossa, the +evident desire she betrayed to take part in the brilliant life of the +capital,--indeed, her whole manner troubled him. It seemed so +unaccountable that she should be angry with him for his conduct at the +burial of the prophet, that he almost thought she had wished to take +advantage of a trifle for the sake of annoying him. He felt that doubt +which never comes so suddenly and wounds so keenly as when a man feels +the most certain of his position and of himself. + +He retired to his apartment in the palace with a burden of unhappiness +and evil presentiment that was new to him. It was very different from +the sincere sorrow he had felt and still suffered for the death of his +master and friend. That misfortune had not affected him as regarded +Nehushta. But now he had been separated from her during all the week by +the exigencies of the funeral ceremonies, and he had looked forward to +meeting her this evening as to a great joy after so much mourning, and +he was disappointed. She had affected to be offended with him, yet his +reason told him that he had acted naturally and rightly. Could he, the +bearer of the prophet's body, the captain of all the fortress, the man +of all others upon whom all eyes were turned, have exchanged love +glances or spoken soft words to the princess by his side at such a time? +It was absurd; she had no right to expect such a thing. + +However, he reflected that a new kind of life was to begin on the +morrow. For the best part of a month he would ride by her litter all day +long, and sit at her table at noonday and evening; he would watch over +her and take care of her, and see that her slightest wants were +instantly supplied; a thousand incidents would occur whereby he might +re-establish all the loving intimacy which seemed to have been so +unexpectedly shaken. And so, consoling himself with the hopes of the +future, and striving to overlook the present, he fell asleep, wearied +with the fatigues and sorrows of the day. + +But Nehushta lay all night upon her silken cushions, and watched the +flickering little lamp and the strange shadows it cast among the rich, +painted carvings of the ceiling. She slept little, but waking she +dreamed of the gold and the glitter of Shushan, of the magnificence of +the young king, and of the brilliant hard-featured beauty of Atossa, +whom she already hated or had determined to hate. The king interested +her most. She tried to recall his features and manner as he had appeared +when he tarried one night in the fortress a year previous. She +remembered a black-browed man in the prime of youth, with heavy brows +and an eagle nose; his young beard growing black and square about his +strong dark features, which would have seemed coarse saving for his +bright eyes that looked every man fearlessly in the face. A short man he +seemed in her memory, square built and powerful as a bloodhound, of +quick and decisive speech, expecting to be understood before he had half +spoken his thoughts; a man, she fancied, who must be untiring and +violent of temper, inflexible and brave in the execution of his +purpose--a strong contrast outwardly to her tall and graceful lover. +Zoroaster's faultless beauty was a constant delight to her eyes; his +soft deep voice sounded voluptuously passionate when he spoke to +herself, coldly and deliberately dominating when addressing others. He +moved with perfect certainty and assurance of purpose, his whole +presence breathed a high and superior wisdom and untainted nobility of +mind; he looked and acted like a god, like a being from another world, +not subject to mortal passions, nor to the temptations of common +mankind. She gloried in his perfection and in the secret knowledge that +to her alone he was a man simply and utterly dominated by love. As she +thought of him she grew proud and happy in the idea that such a man +should be her lover, and she reproached herself for doubting his +devotion that evening. After all, she had only complained that he had +neglected her--as he had really done, she added. She wondered in her +heart whether other men would have done the same in his place, or +whether this power of coldly disregarding her presence when he was +occupied with a serious matter were not due to a real and unconquerable +hardness in his nature. + +But as she lay there, her dark hair streaming over the yellow silk of +her pillows, her mind strayed from her lover to the life before her, and +the picture rose quickly in her imagination. She even took up the silver +mirror that lay beside her and looked at herself by the dim light of the +little lamp, and said to herself that she was beautiful, and that many +in Shushan would do her homage. She was glad that Atossa was so fair--it +would be a better contrast for her own dark southern beauty. + +Towards morning she slept, and dreamed of the grand figure of the +prophet, as she had seen him stretched upon his death-bed in the upper +chamber of the tower; she thought the dead man stirred and opened his +glazed eyes and pointed at her with his bony fingers, and spoke words of +anger and reproach. Then she woke with a short cry in her terror, and +the light of the dawn shone gray and clear through the doorway of the +corridor at the end of her room, where two of her handmaids slept across +the threshold, their white cloaks drawn over their heads against the +chill air of the night. + +Then the trumpets rang out in long-drawn clanging rhythm through the +morning air, and Nehushta heard the trampling of the beasts that were +being got ready for the journey, in the court without, and the cries of +the drivers and of the serving-men. She rose quickly from her bed--a +lithe white-clad figure in the dawn light--and pushed the heavy curtains +aside and looked out through the lattice; and she forgot her evil dream, +for her heart leaped again at the thought that she should no more be +shut up in Ecbatana, and that before another month was over she would be +in Shushan, in the palace, where she longed to be. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +The sun was almost setting, and his light was already turning to a +golden glow upon the vast plain of Shushan, as the caravan of travellers +halted for the last time. A few stades away the two mounds rose above +the royal city like two tables out of the flat country; the lower one +surmounted by the marble columns, the towers and turrets and gleaming +architraves of the palace; and in front, upon the right, the higher +elevation crowned by the dark and massive citadel of frowning walls and +battlements. The place chosen for the halt was the point where the road +from Nineveh, into which they had turned when about half-way from +Ecbatana, joined the broad road from Babylon, near to the bridge. For +some time they had followed the quiet stream of the Choaspes, and, +looking across it, had watched how the fortress seemed to come forward +and overhang the river, while the mound of the palace fell away to the +background. The city itself was, of course, completely hidden from their +view by the steep mounds, that looked as inaccessible as though they had +been built of solid masonry. + +Everything in the plain was green. Stade upon stade, and farsang upon +farsang, the ploughed furrows stretched away to the west and south; the +corn standing already green and high, and the fig-trees putting out +their broad green leaves. Here and there in the level expanse of +country the rays of the declining sun were reflected from the +whitewashed walls of a farmhouse; or in the farther distance lingered +upon the burnt-brick buildings of an outlying village. Beyond the river, +in the broad meadow beneath the turret-clad mound, half-naked, sunburnt +boys drove home the small humped cows to the milking, scaring away, as +they went, the troops of white horses that pastured in the same field, +clapping their hands and crying out at the little black foals that ran +and frisked by the side of their white dams. Here and there a +broad-shouldered, bearded fisherman angled in the stream, or flung out a +brown casting-net upon the placid waters, drawing it slowly back to the +bank, with eyes intent upon the moving cords. + +The caravan halted on the turf by the side of the dusty road; the +mounted guards, threescore stalwart riders from the Median plains, fell +back to make room for the travellers, and, springing to the ground, set +about picketing and watering their horses--their brazen armour and +scarlet and blue mantles blazing in a mass of rich colour in the evening +sun; while their wild white horses, untired by the day's march, plunged +and snorted, and shook themselves, and bit each other in play by mane +and tail, in the delight of being at least half free. + +Zoroaster himself--his purple mantle somewhat whitened with the dust, +and his fair face a little browned by the three weeks' journey--threw +the bridle of his horse to a soldier and ran quickly forward. A +magnificent litter, closed all around with a gilded lattice, and roofed +with three awnings of white linen, one upon the other, as a protection +against the sun, was being carefully unyoked from the mules that had +borne it. Tall Ethiopian slaves lifted it, and carried it to the +greenest spot of the turf by the softly flowing river; and Zoroaster +himself pushed back the lattice and spread a rich carpet before it. +Nehushta took his proffered hand and stepped lightly out, and stood +beside him in the red light. She was veiled, and her purple cloak fell +in long folds to her feet, and she stood motionless, with her back to +the city, looking towards the setting sun. + +"Why do we stop here?" she asked suddenly. + +"The Great King, may he live for ever, is said not to be in the city," +answered Zoroaster, "and it would ill become us to enter the palace +before him." He spoke aloud in the Median language that the slaves might +hear him; then he added in Hebrew and in a lower voice, "It would be +scarcely wise, or safe, to enter Shushan when the king is away. Who can +tell what may have happened there in these days? Babylon has rebelled; +the empire is far from settled. All Persia may be on the very point of a +revolt." + +"A fitting time indeed for our journey--for me and my women to be +travelling abroad with a score of horsemen for a guard! Why did you +bring me here? How long are we to remain encamped by the roadside, +waiting the pleasure of the populace to let us in, or the convenience of +this new king to return?" + +Nehushta turned upon her companion as she spoke, and there was a ring of +mingled scorn and disappointment in her voice. Her dark eyes stated +coldly at Zoroaster from the straight opening between her veils, and +before he could answer, she turned her back upon him and moved a few +steps away, gazing out at the setting sun across the fertile meadows. +The warrior stood still, and a dark flush overspread his face. Then he +turned pale, but whatever were the words that rose to his lips, he did +not speak them, but occupied himself with superintending the pitching of +the women's tents. The other litters were brought, and set down with +their occupants; the long file of camels, some laden with baggage and +provisions, some bearing female slaves, kneeled down to be unloaded upon +the grass, anxiously craning their long necks the while in the direction +of the stream; the tent-pitchers set to work; and at the last another +score of horsemen, who had formed the rear-guard of the caravan, +cantered up and joined their companions who had already dismounted. With +the rapid skill of long practice, all did their share, and in a few +minutes all the immense paraphernalia of a Persian encampment were +spread out and disposed in place for the night. Contrary to the usual +habit Zoroaster had not permitted the tent-pitchers and other slaves to +pass on while he and his charges made their noonday halt; for he feared +some uprising in the neighbourhood of the city in the absence of the +king, and he wished to keep his whole company together as a measure of +safety, even at the sacrifice of Nehushta's convenience. + +She herself still stood apart, and haughtily turned away from her +serving-women, giving them no answer when they saluted her and offered +her cushions and cooling drinks. She drew her cloak more closely about +her and tightened her veil upon her face. She was weary, disappointed, +almost angry. For days she had dreamed of the reception she would have +at the palace, of the king and of the court; of the luxury of rest after +her long journey, and of the thousand diversions and excitements she +would find in revisiting the scenes of her childhood. It was no small +disappointment to find herself condemned to another night in camp; and +her first impulse was to blame Zoroaster. + +In spite of her love for him, her strong and dominating temper often +chafed at his calmness, and resented the resolute superiority of his +intelligence; and then, being conscious that her own dignity suffered by +the storms of her temper, she was even more angry than before, with +herself, with him, with every one. But Zoroaster was as impassive as +marble, saving that now and then his brow flushed, and paled quickly; +and his words, if he spoke at all, had a chilled icy ring in them. +Sooner or later, Nehushta's passionate temper cooled, and she found him +the same as ever, devoted and gentle and loving; then her heart went out +to him anew, and all her being was filled with the love of him, even to +overflowing. + +She had been disappointed now, and would speak to no one. She moved +still farther from the crowd of slaves and tent-pitchers, followed at a +respectful distance by her handmaidens, who whispered together as they +went; and again she stood still and looked westward. + +As the sun neared the horizon, his low rays caught upon a raising cloud +of dust, small and distant as the smoke of a fire, in the plain towards +Babylon, but whirling quickly upwards. Nehushta's eye rested on the +far-off point, and she raised one hand to shade her sight. She +remembered how, when she was a girl, she had watched the line of that +very road from the palace above, and had seen a cloud of dust arise out +of a mere speck, as a body of horsemen galloped into view. There was no +mistaking what it was. A troop of horse were coming--perhaps the king +himself. Instinctively she turned and looked for Zoroaster, and started, +as she saw him standing at a little distance from her, with folded arms, +his eyes bent on the horizon. She moved towards him in sudden +excitement. + +"What is it?" she asked in low tones. + +"It is the Great King--may he live for ever!" answered Zoroaster. "None +but he would ride so fast along the royal road." + +For a moment they stood side by side, watching the dust cloud; and as +they stood, Nehushta's hand stole out from her cloak and touched the +warrior's arm, softly, with a trembling of the fingers, as though she +timidly sought something she would not ask for. Zoroaster turned his +head and saw that her eyes were moistened with tears; he understood, but +he would not take her hand, for there were many slaves near, besides +Nehushta's kinsfolk, and he would not have had them see; but he looked +on her tenderly, and on a sudden, his eyes grew less sad, and the light +returned in them. + +"My beloved!" he said softly. + +"I was wrong, Zoroaster--forgive me," she murmured. She suffered him to +lead her to her tent, which was already pitched; and he left her there, +sitting at the door and watching his movements, while he called together +his men and drew them up in a compact rank by the roadside, to be ready +to salute the king. + +Nearer and nearer came the cloud; and the red glow turned to purple and +the sun went out of sight; and still it came nearer, that whirling +cloud-canopy of fine powdered dust, rising to right and left of the road +in vast round puffs, and hanging overhead like the smoke from some great +moving fire. Then, from beneath it, there seemed to come a distant roar +like thunder, rising and falling on the silent air, but rising ever +louder; and a dark gleam of polished bronze, with something more purple +than the purple sunset, took shape slowly; then with the low roar of +sound, came now and then, and then more often, the clank of harness and +arms; till at last, the whole stamping, rushing, clanging crowd of +galloping horsemen seemed to emerge suddenly from the dust in a +thundering charge, the very earth shaking beneath their weight, and the +whole air vibrating to the tremendous shock of pounding hoofs and the +din of clashing brass. + +A few lengths before the serried ranks rode one man alone,--a square +figure, wrapped in a cloak of deeper and richer purple than any worn by +the ordinary nobles, sitting like a rock upon a great white horse. As he +came up, Zoroaster and his fourscore men threw up their hands. + +"Hail, king of kings! Hail, and live for ever!" they cried, and as one +man, they prostrated themselves upon their faces on the grass by the +roadside. + +Darius drew rein suddenly, bringing his steed from his full gallop to +his haunches in an instant. After him the rushing riders threw up their +right hands as a signal to those behind; and with a deafening +concussion, as of the ocean breaking at once against a wall of rock, +those matchless Persian horsemen halted in a body in the space of a few +yards, their steeds plunging wildly, rearing to their height and +struggling on the curb; but helpless to advance against the strong hands +that held them. The blossom and flower of all the Persian nobles rode +there,--their purple mantles flying with the wild motion, their bronze +cuirasses black in the gathering twilight, their bearded faces dark and +square beneath their gilded helmets. + +"I am Darius, the king of kings, on whom ye call," cried the king, whose +steed now stood like a marble statue, immovable in the middle of the +road. "Rise, speak and fear nothing,--unless ye speak lies." + +Zoroaster rose to his feet, then bent low, and taking a few grains of +dust from the roadside, touched his mouth with his hand and let the dust +fall upon his forehead. + +"Hail, and live for ever! I am thy servant, Zoroaster, who was captain +over the fortress and treasury of Ecbatana. According to thy word I have +brought the kinsfolk of Jehoiakim, king of Judah,--chief of whom is +Nehushta, the princess. I heard that thou wast absent from Shushan, and +here I have waited for thy coming. I also sent thee messengers to +announce that Daniel, surnamed Belteshazzar, who was Satrap of Media +from the time of Cambyses, is dead; and I have buried him fittingly in a +new tomb in the garden of the palace of Ecbatana." + +Darius, quick and impulsive in every thought and action, sprang to the +ground as Zoroaster finished speaking, and coming to him, took both his +hands and kissed him on both cheeks. + +"What thou hast done is well done,--I know thee of old. Auramazda is +with thee. He is also with me. By his grace I have slain the rebels at +Babylon. They spoke lies, so I slew them. Show me Nehushta, the daughter +of the kings of Judah." + +"I am thy servant. The princess is at hand," answered Zoroaster; but as +he spoke, he turned pale to the lips. + +By this time it had grown dark, and the moon, just past the full, had +not yet risen from behind the mound of the fortress. The slaves brought +torches of mingled wax and fir-gum, and their black figures shone +strangely in the red glare, as they pressed toward the door of +Nehushta's tent, lighting the way for the king. + +Darius strode quickly forward, his gilded harness clanging as he walked, +the strong flaring light illuminating his bold dark features. Under the +striped curtain, drawn up to form the entrance of the tent, stood +Nehushta. She had thrown aside her veil and her women had quickly placed +upon her head the linen tiara, where a single jewel shown like a star in +the white folds. Her thick black hair fell in masses upon her shoulders, +and her mantle was thrown back, displaying the grand proportions of her +figure, clad in tunic and close-fitting belt. As the king came near, +she kneeled and prostrated herself before him, touching her forehead to +the ground, and waiting for him to speak. + +He stood still a full minute and his eyes flashed fire, as he looked on +her crouching figure, in very pride that so queenly a woman should be +forced to kneel at his feet--but more in sudden admiration of her +marvellous beauty. Then he bent down, and took her hand and raised her +to her feet. She sprang up, and faced him with glowing cheeks and +flashing eyes; and as she stood she was nearly as tall as he. + +"I would not that a princess of thy line kneeled before me," said he; +and in his voice there was a strange touch of softness. "Wilt thou let +me rest here awhile before I go up to Shushan? I am weary of riding and +thirsty from the road." + +"Hail, king of the world! I am thy servant. Rest thee and refresh thee +here," answered Nehushta, drawing back into the tent. The king beckoned +to Zoroaster to follow him and went in. + +Darius sat upon the carved folding-chair that stood in the midst of the +tent by the main pole, and eagerly drained the huge golden goblet of +Shiraz wine which Zoroaster poured for him. Then he took off his +headpiece, and his thick, coarse hair fell in a mass of dark curls to +his neck, like the mane of a black lion. He breathed a long breath as of +relief and enjoyment of well-earned repose, and leaned back in his +chair, letting his eyes rest on Nehushta's face as she stood before him +looking down to the ground. Zoroaster remained on one side, holding the +replenished goblet in his hand, in case the king's thirst were not +assuaged by a single draught. + +"Thou art fair, daughter of Jerusalem," said the king presently. "I +remember thy beauty, for I saw thee in Ecbatana. I sent for thee and thy +kinsfolk that I might do thee honour; and I will also fulfil my words. I +will take thee to be my wife." + +Darius spoke quietly, in his usual tone of absolute determination. But +if the concentrated fury of a thousand storms had suddenly broken loose +in the very midst of the tent, the effect could not have been more +terrible on his hearers. + +Nehushta's face flushed suddenly, and for a moment she trembled in every +joint; then she fell on her knees, prostrate before the king's feet, all +the wealth of her splendid hair falling loose about her. Darius sat +still, as though watching the result of his speech. He might have sat +long, but in an instant, Zoroaster sprang between the king and the +kneeling woman; and the golden goblet he had held rolled across the +thick carpet on the ground, while the rich red wine ran in a slow stream +towards the curtains of the door. His face was livid and his eyes like +coals of blue fire, his fair locks and his long golden beard caught the +torchlight and shone about him like a glory, as he stood up to his grand +height and faced the king. Darius never quailed nor moved; his look met +Zoroaster's with fearless boldness. Zoroaster spoke first, in low +accents of concentrated fury: + +"Nehushta the princess is my betrothed bride. Though thou wert king of +the stars as well as king of the earth, thou shalt not have her for thy +wife." + +Darius smiled, not scornfully, an honest smile of amusement, as he +stared at the wrathful figure of the northern man before him. + +"I am the king of kings," he answered. "I will marry this princess of +Judah to-morrow, and thee I will crucify upon the highest turret of +Shushan, because thou speakest lies when thou sayest I shall not marry +her." + +"Fool! tempt not thy God! Threaten not him who is stronger than thou, +lest he slay thee with his hands where thou sittest." Zoroaster's voice +sounded low and distinct as the knell of relentless fate, and his hand +went out towards the king's throat. + +Until this moment, Darius had sat in his indifferent attitude, smiling +carelessly, though never taking his eye from his adversary. Brave as the +bravest, he scorned to move until he was attacked, and he would have +despised the thought of calling to his guards. But when Zoroaster's hand +went out to seize him, he was ready. With a spring like a tiger, he flew +at the strong man's throat, and sought to drag him down, striving to +fasten his grip about the collar of his cuirass, but Zoroaster slipped +his hand quickly under his adversary's, his sleeve went back and his +long white arm ran like a fetter of steel about the king's neck, while +his other hand gripped him by the middle; so they held each other like +wrestlers, one arm above the shoulder and one below, and strove with all +their might. + +The king was short, but in his thick-set broad shoulders and knotted +arms there lurked the strength of a bull and the quickness of a tiger. +Zoroaster had the advantage, for his right arm was round Darius's neck, +but while one might count a score, neither moved a hairbreadth, and the +blue veins stood out like cords on the tall man's arm. The fiery might +of the southern prince was matched against the stately strength of the +fair northerner, whose face grew as white as death, while the king's +brow was purple with the agony of effort. They both breathed hard +between their clenched teeth, but neither uttered a word. + +Nehushta had leaped to her feet in terror at the first sign of the +coming strife, but she did not cry out, nor call in the slaves or +guards. She stood, holding the tent-pole with one hand, and gathering +her mantle to her breast with the other, gazing in absolute fascination +at the fearful life and death struggle, at the unspeakable and +tremendous strength so silently exerted by the two men before her. + +Suddenly they moved and swayed. Darius had attempted to trip Zoroaster +with one foot, but slipping on the carpet wet with wine, had been bent +nearly double to the ground; then by a violent effort, he regained his +footing. But the great exertion had weakened his strength. Nehushta +thought a smile nickered on Zoroaster's pale face and his flashing dark +blue eyes met hers for a moment, and then the end began. Slowly, and by +imperceptible degrees, Zoroaster forced the king down before him, +doubling him backwards with irresistible strength, till it seemed as +though bone and sinew and muscle must be broken and torn asunder in the +desperate resistance. Then, at last, when his head almost touched the +ground, Darius groaned and his limbs relaxed. Instantly Zoroaster threw +him on his back and kneeled with his whole weight upon his chest,--the +gilded scales of the corselet cracking beneath the burden, and he held +the king's hands down on either side, pinioned to the floor. Darius +struggled desperately twice and then lay quite still. Zoroaster gazed +down upon him with blazing eyes. + +"Thou who wouldst crucify me upon Shushan," he said through his teeth. +"I will slay thee here even as thou didst slay Smerdis. Hast thou +anything to say? Speak quickly, for thy hour is come." + +Even in the extremity of his agony, vanquished and at the point of +death, Darius was brave, as brave men are, to the very last. He would +indeed have called for help now, but there was no breath in him. He +still gazed fearlessly into the eyes of his terrible conqueror. His +voice came in a hoarse whisper. + +"I fear not death. Slay on if thou wilt--thou--hast--conquered." + +Nehushta had come near. She trembled now that the fight was over, and +looked anxiously to the heavy curtains of the tent-door. + +"Tell him," she whispered to Zoroaster, "that you will spare him if he +will do no harm to you, nor to me." + +"Spare him!" echoed Zoroaster scornfully. "He is almost dead now--why +should I spare him?" + +"For my sake, beloved," answered Nehushta, with a sudden and passionate +gesture of entreaty. "He is the king--he speaks truth; if he says he +will not harm you, trust him." + +"If I slay thee not, swear thou wilt not harm me nor Nehushta," said +Zoroaster, removing one knee from the chest of his adversary. + +"By the name of Auramazda," gasped Darius, "I will not harm thee nor +her." + +"It is well," said Zoroaster. "I will let thee go. And as for taking her +to be thy wife, thou mayest ask her if she will wed thee," he added. He +rose and helped the king to his feet. Darius shook himself and breathed +hard for a few minutes. He felt his limbs as a man might do who had +fallen from his horse, and then he sat down upon the chair, and broke +into a loud laugh. + +Darius was well known to all Persia and Media before the events of the +last two months, and such was his reputation for abiding by his promise +that he was universally trusted by those about him. Zoroaster had known +him also, and he remembered his easy familiarity and love of jesting, so +that even when he held the king at such vantage that he might have +killed him by a little additional pressure of his weight, he felt not +the least hesitation in accepting his promise of safety. But remembering +what a stake had been played for in the desperate issue, he could not +join in the king's laugh. He stood silently apart, and looked at +Nehushta who leaned back against the tent-pole in violent agitation; her +hands wringing each other beneath her long sleeves, and her eyes turning +from the king to Zoroaster, and back again to the king, in evident +distress and fear. + +"Thou hast a mighty arm, Zoroaster," cried Darius, as his laughter +subsided, "and thou hadst well-nigh made an end of the Great King and of +Persia, Media, Babylon and Egypt in thy grip." + +"Let the king pardon his servant," answered Zoroaster, "if his knee was +heavy and his hand strong. Had not the king slipped upon the spilt wine, +his servant would have been thrown down." + +"And thou wouldst have been crucified at dawn," added Darius, laughing +again. "It is well for thee that I am Darius and not Cambyses, or thou +wouldst not be standing there before me while my guards are gossiping +idly in the road. Give me a cup of wine since thou hast spared my life!" +Again the king laughed as though his sides would break. Zoroaster +hastily filled another goblet and offered it, kneeling before the +monarch. Darius paused before he took the cup, and looked at the +kneeling warrior's pale proud face. Then he spoke and his voice dropped +to a less mirthful key, as he laid his hand on Zoroaster's shoulder. + +"I love thee, prince," he said, "because thou art stronger than I; and +as brave and more merciful. Therefore shalt thou stand ever at my right +hand and I will trust thee with my life in thy hand. And in pledge +hereunto I put my own chain of gold about thy neck, and I drink this cup +to thee; and whosoever shall harm a hair of thine head shall perish in +torments." + +The king drank; and Zoroaster, overcome with genuine admiration of the +great soul that could so easily forgive so dire an offence, bent and +embraced the king's knees in token of adherence, and as a seal of that +friendship which was never to be broken until death parted the two men +asunder. + +Then they arose, and at Zoroaster's order, the princess's litter was +brought, and leaving the encampment to follow after them, they went up +to the palace. Nehushta was borne between the litters of her women and +her slaves on foot, but Zoroaster mounted his horse and rode slowly and +in silence by the right side of the Great King. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Athwart the gleaming colonnades of the eastern balcony, the early +morning sun shone brightly, and all the shadows of the white marble +cornices and capitals and jutting frieze work were blue with the +reflection of the cloudless sky. The swallows now and then shot in under +the overhanging roof and flew up and down the covered terrace; then with +a quick rush, they sped forth again into the dancing sunshine with clean +sudden sweep, as when a sharp sword is whirled in the air. Far below, +the soft mist of the dawn still lay upon the city, whence the distant +cries of the water-carriers and fruitsellers came echoing up from the +waking streets, the call of the women to one another from the housetops, +and now and then the neighing of a horse far out upon the meadows; while +the fleet swallows circled over all in swift wide curves, with a silvery +fresh stream of unceasing twittering music. + +Zoroaster paced the balcony alone. He was fully armed, with his helmet +upon his head; the crest of the winged wheels was replaced by the ensign +Darius had chosen for himself,--the half-figure of a likeness of the +king with long straight wings on either side, of wrought gold and very +fine workmanship. The long purple mantle hung to his heels and the royal +chain of gold was about his neck. As he walked the gilded leather of his +shoes was reflected in the polished marble pavement and he trod +cautiously, for the clean surface was slippery as the face of a mirror. +At one end of the terrace a stairway led down to the lower story of the +palace, and at the other end a high square door was masked by a heavy +curtain of rich purple and gold stuff, that fell in thick folds to the +glassy floor. Each time his walk brought him to this end Zoroaster +paused, as though expecting that some one should come out. But as it +generally happens when a man is waiting for something or some one that +the object or person appears unexpectedly, so it occurred that as he +turned back from the staircase towards the curtain, he saw that some one +had already advanced half the length of the balcony to meet him--and it +was not the person for whom he was looking. + +At first, he was dazzled for a moment, but his memory served him +instantly and he recognised the face and form of a woman he had known +and often seen before. She was not tall, but so perfectly proportioned +that it was impossible to wish that she were taller. Her close tunic of +palest blue, bordered with a gold embroidery at the neck, betrayed the +matchless symmetry of her figure, the unspeakable grace of development +of a woman in the fullest bloom of beauty. From her knees to her feet, +her under tunic showed the purple and white bands that none but the king +might wear, and which even for the queen was an undue assumption of the +royal insignia. But Zoroaster did not look at her dress, nor at her +mantle of royal sea-purple, nor at the marvellous white hands that held +together a written scroll. His eyes rested on her face, and he stood +still where he was. + +He knew those straight and perfect features, not large nor heavy, but of +such rare mould and faultless type as man has not seen since, neither +will see. The perfect curve of the fresh mouth; the white forward chin +with its sunk depression in the midst, the deep-set, blue eyes and the +straight pencilled brows; the broad smooth forehead and the tiny ear +half hidden in the glory of sun-golden hair; the milk-white skin just +tinged with the faint rose-light that never changed or reddened in heat +or cold, in anger or in joy--he knew them all; the features of royal +Cyrus made soft and womanly in substance, but unchanging still and +faultlessly cold in his great daughter Atossa, the child of kings, the +wife of kings, the mother of kings. + +The heavy curtains had fallen together behind her, and she came forward +alone. She had seen Zoroaster before he had seen her, and she moved on +without showing any surprise, the heels of her small golden shoes +clicking sharply on the polished floor. Zoroaster remained standing for +a moment, and then, removing his helmet in salutation, went to one side +of the head of the staircase and waited respectfully for the queen to +pass. As she came on, passing alternately through the shadow cast by the +columns, and the sunlight that blazed between, her advancing figure +flashed with a new illumination at every step. She made as though she +were going straight on, but as she passed over the threshold to the +staircase, she suddenly stopped and turned half round, and looked +straight at Zoroaster. + +"Thou art Zoroaster," she said in a smooth and musical voice, like the +ripple of a clear stream flowing through summer meadows. + +"I am Zoroaster, thy servant," he answered, bowing his head. He spoke +very coldly. + +"I remember thee well," said the queen, lingering by the head of the +staircase. "Thou art little changed, saving that thou art stronger, I +should think, and more of a soldier than formerly." + +Zoroaster stood turning his polished helmet in his hands, but he +answered nothing; he cared little for the queen's praises. But she, it +seemed, was desirous of pleasing him in proportion as he was less +anxious to be pleased, for she turned again and walked forward upon the +terrace. + +"Come into the sunlight--the morning air is cold," she said, "I would +speak with thee awhile." + +A carved chair stood in a corner of the balcony. Zoroaster moved it into +the sunshine, and Atossa sat down, smiling her thanks to him, while he +stood leaning against the balustrade,--a magnificent figure as the light +caught his gilded harness and gold neckchain, and played on his long +fair beard and nestled in the folds of his purple mantle. + +"Tell me--you came last night?" she asked, spreading her dainty hands in +the sunshine as though to warm them. She never feared the sun, for he +was friendly to her nativity and never seemed to scorch her fair skin +like that of meaner women. + +"Thy servant came last night," answered the prince. + +"Bringing Nehushta and the other Hebrews?" added the queen. + +"Even so." + +"Tell me something of this Nehushta," said Atossa. She had dropped into +a more familiar form of speech. But Zoroaster was careful of his words +and never allowed his language to relapse from the distant form of +address of a subject to his sovereign. + +"The queen knoweth her. She was here as a young child a few years +since," he replied. He chose to let Atossa ask questions for all the +information she needed. + +"It is so long ago," she said, with a little sigh. "Is she fair?" + +"Nay, she is dark, after the manner of the Hebrews." + +"And the Persians too," she interrupted. + +"She is very beautiful," continued Zoroaster. "She is very tall." Atossa +looked up quickly with a smile. She was not tall herself, with all her +Beauty. + +"You admire tall women?" + +"Yes," said Zoroaster calmly--well knowing what he said. He did not wish +to flatter the queen; and besides he knew her too well to do so if he +wished to please her. She was one of those women who are not accustomed +to doubt their own superiority over the rest of their sex. + +"Then you admire this Hebrew princess?" said she, and paused for an +answer. But her companion was as cold and calm as she. Seeing himself +directly pressed by a suspicion, he changed his tactics and flattered +Atossa for the sake of putting a stop to her questions. + +"Height is not of itself beauty," he answered with a courteous smile. +"There is a kind of beauty which no height can improve,--a perfection +which needs not to be set high for all men to acknowledge it." + +The queen simply took no notice of the compliment, but it had its +desired effect, for she changed the tone of her talk a little, speaking +more seriously. + +"Where is she? I will go and see her," she said. + +"She rested last night in the upper chambers in the southern part of the +palace. Thy servant will bid her come if it be thy desire." + +"Presently, presently," answered the queen. "It is yet early, and she +was doubtless weary of the journey." + +There was a pause. Zoroaster looked down at the beautiful queen as she +sat beside him, and wondered whether she had changed; and as he gazed, +he fell to comparing her beauty with Nehushta's, and his glance grew +more intent than he had meant it should be, so that Atossa looked up +suddenly and met his eyes resting on her face. + +"It is long since we have met, Zoroaster," she said quickly. "Tell me of +your life in that wild fortress. You have prospered in your profession +of arms--you wear the royal chain." She put up her hand and touched the +links as though to feel them. "Indeed it is very like the chain Darius +wore when he went to Babylon the other day." She paused a moment as +though trying to recall something; then continued: "Yes--now I think of +it, he had no chain when he came back. It is his--of course--why has he +given it to you?" Her tones had a tinge of uncertainty in the +question,--half imperious, as demanding an answer, half persuading, as +though not sure the answer would be given. Zoroaster remembered that +intonation of her sweet voice, and he smiled in his beard. + +"Indeed," he answered, "the Great King who liveth for ever, put this +chain about my neck with his own hands last night, when he halted by the +roadside, as a reward, I presume, for certain qualities he believeth his +servant Zoroaster to possess." + +"Qualities--what qualities?" + +"Nay, the queen cannot expect me to sing faithfully my own praises. +Nevertheless, I am ready to die for the Great King. He knoweth that I +am. May he live for ever!" + +"It may be that one of the qualities was the successful performance of +the extremely difficult task you have lately accomplished," said Atossa, +with a touch of scorn. + +"A task?" repeated Zoroaster. + +"Yes--have you not brought a handful of Hebrew women all the way from +Ecbatana to Shushan, through numberless dangers and difficulties, safe +and sound, and so carefully prudent of their comfort that they are not +even weary, nor have they once hungered or thirsted by the way, nor lost +the smallest box of perfume, nor the tiniest of their golden hair-pins? +Surely you have deserved to have a royal chain hung about your neck and +to be called the king's friend." + +"The reward was doubtless greater than my desert. It was no great feat +of arms that I had to perform; and yet, in these days a man may leave +Media under one king, and reach Shushan under another. The queen knoweth +better than any one what sudden changes may take place in the empire," +answered Zoroaster, looking calmly into her face as he stood; and she +who had been the wife of Cambyses and the wife of the murdered +Gomata-Smerdis, and who was now the wife of Darius, looked down and was +silent, turning over in her beautiful hands the sealed scroll she bore. + +The sun had risen higher while they talked, and his rays were growing +hot in the clear air. The mist had lifted from the city below, and all +the streets and open places were alive with noisy buyers and sellers, +whose loud talking and disputing came up in a continuous hum to the +palace on the hill, like the drone of a swarm of bees. The queen rose +from her seat. + +"It is too warm here," she said, and she once more moved toward the +stairway. Zoroaster followed her respectfully, still holding his helmet +in his hand. Atossa did not speak till she reached the threshold. Then, +as Zoroaster bowed low before her, she paused and looked at him with her +clear, deep-blue eyes. + +"You have grown very formal in four years," she said softly. "You used +to be more outspoken and less of a courtier. I am not changed--we must +be friends as we were formerly." + +Zoroaster hesitated a moment before he answered: + +"I am the Great King's man," he said slowly. "I am, therefore, also the +queen's servant." + +Atossa raised her delicate eyebrows a little and a shade of annoyance +passed for the first time over her perfect face, which gave her a look +of sternness. + +"I am the queen," she said coldly. "The king may take other wives, but I +am the queen. Take heed that you be indeed my servant." Then, as she +gathered her mantle about her and put one foot upon the stairs, she +touched his shoulder gently with the tips of her fingers and added with +a sudden smile, "And I will be your friend." So she passed down the +stairs out of sight, leaving Zoroaster alone. + +Slowly he paced the terrace again, reflecting profoundly upon his +situation. Indeed he had no small cause for anxiety; it was evident that +the queen suspected his love for Nehushta, and he was more than half +convinced that there were reasons why such an affection would inevitably +meet with her disapproval. In former days, before she was married to +Cambyses, and afterwards, before Zoroaster had been sent into Media, +Atossa had shown so marked a liking for him, that a man more acquainted +with the world, would have guessed that she loved him. He had not +suspected such a thing, but with a keen perception of character, he had +understood that beneath the beautiful features and the frank gentleness +of the young princess, there lurked a profound intelligence, an +unbending ambition and a cold selfishness without equal; he had +mistrusted her, but he had humoured her caprices and been in truth a +good friend to her, without in the least wishing to accept her +friendship for himself in return. He was but a young captain of five +hundred then, although he was the favourite of the court; but his strong +arm was dreaded as well as the cutting force of his replies when +questioned, and no word of the court gossip had therefore reached his +ears concerning Atossa's admiration for him. It was, moreover, so +evident that he cared nothing for her beyond the most unaffected +friendliness, that her disappointment in not moving his heart was a +constant source of satisfaction to her enemies. There had reigned in +those days a great and unbridled license in the court, and the fact of +the daughter of Cyrus loving and being loved by the handsomest of the +king's guards, would not of itself have attracted overmuch notice. But +the evident innocence of Zoroaster in the whole affair, and the masterly +fashion in which Atossa concealed her anger, if she felt any, caused the +matter to be completely forgotten as soon as Zoroaster left Shushan, and +events had, since then, succeeded each other too rapidly to give the +courtiers leisure for gossiping about old scandals. The isolation in +which Gomata had lived during the seven months while he maintained the +popular impression that he was not Gomata-Smerdis, but Smerdis the +brother of Cambyses, had broken up the court; and the strong, manly +character of Darius had checked the license of the nobles suddenly, as a +horse-breaker brings up an unbroken colt by flinging the noose about his +neck. The king permitted that the ancient custom of marrying as many as +four wives should be maintained, and he himself soon set an example by +so doing; but he had determined that the whole corrupt fabric of court +life should be shattered at one blow; and with his usual intrepid +disregard of consequences and his iron determination to maintain his +opinions, he had suffered no contradiction of his will. He had married +Atossa,--in the first place, because she was the most beautiful woman in +Persia; and secondly, because he comprehended her great intelligence +and capacity for affairs, and believed himself able to make use of her +at his pleasure. As for Atossa herself, she had not hesitated a moment +in concurring in the marriage,--she had ruled her former husbands, and +she would rule Darius in like manner, she thought, to her own complete +aggrandisement and in the face of all rivals. As yet, the king had taken +no second wife, although he looked with growing admiration upon the +maiden Artystoné, who was then but fifteen years of age, the youngest +daughter of Cyrus and own sister to Atossa. + +All this Zoroaster knew, and he recognised, also from the meeting he had +just had with the queen, that she was desirous of maintaining her +friendship with himself. But since the violent scene of the previous +night, he had determined to be the king's man in truest loyalty, and he +feared lest Atossa's plans might, before long, cross her husband's. +Therefore he accepted her offer of friendship coldly, and treated her +with the most formal courtesy. On the other hand, he understood well +enough that if she resented his manner of acting towards her, and +ascertained that he really loved Nehushta, it would be in her power to +produce difficulties and complications which he would have every cause +for fearing. She would certainly discover the king's admiration for +Nehushta. Darius was a man almost incapable of concealment; with whom to +think was to act instantly and without hesitation. He generally acted +rightly, for his instincts were noble and kingly, and his heart as +honest and open as the very light of day. He said what he thought and +instantly fulfilled his words. He hated a lie as poison, and the only +untruth he had ever been guilty of was told when, in order to gain +access to the dwelling of the false Smerdis, he had declared to the +guards that he brought news of importance from his father. He had +justified this falsehood by the most elaborate and logical apology to +his companions, the six princes, and had explained that he only lied for +the purpose of saving Persia; and when the lot fell to himself to assume +the royal authority, he fulfilled most amply every promise he had given +of freeing the country from tyranny, religious despotism and, generally, +from what he termed "lies." As for the killing of Gomata-Smerdis, it was +an act of public justice, approved by all sensible persons as soon as it +was known by what frauds that impostor had seized the kingdom. + +With regard to Atossa, Darius had abstained from asking her questions +about her seven months of marriage with the usurper. She must have known +well enough who the man was, but Darius understood her character well +enough to know that she would marry whomsoever she saw in the chief +place, and that her counsel and courage would be of inestimable +advantage to a ruler. She herself never mentioned the past events to the +king, knowing his hatred of lies on the one hand, and that on the other, +the plain truth would redound to her discredit. He had given her to +understand as much from the first, telling her that he took her for what +she was, and not for what she had been. Her mind was at rest about the +past, and as for the future, she promised herself her full share in her +husband's success, should he succeed, and unbounded liberty in the +choice of his successor, should he fail. + +But all these considerations did not tend to clear Zoroaster's vision in +regard to his own future. He saw himself already placed in a position of +extreme difficulty between Nehushta and the king. On the other hand, he +dreaded lest he should before long fall into disgrace with the king on +account of Atossa's treatment of himself, or incur Atossa's displeasure +through the great favour he received from Darius. He knew the queen to +be an ambitious woman, capable of the wildest conceptions, and possessed +of the utmost skill for their execution. + +He longed to see Nehushta and talk with her at once,--to tell her many +things and to warn her of many possibilities; above all, he desired to +discuss with her the scene of the previous night and the strangely +sudden determination the king had expressed to make her his wife. + +But he could not leave his post. His orders had been to await the king +in the morning upon the eastern terrace; and there he must abide until +it pleased Darius to come forth; and he knew Nehushta would not venture +down into that part of the palace. He wondered that the king did not +come, and he chafed at the delay as he saw the sun rising higher and +higher, and the shadows deepening in the terrace. Weary of waiting he +sat down at last upon the chair where Atossa had rested, and folded his +hands over his sword-hilt,--resigning himself to the situation with the +philosophy of a trained soldier. + +Sitting thus alone, he fell to dreaming. As he gazed out at the bright +sky, he forgot his life and his love, and all things of the present; and +his mind wandered away among the thoughts most natural and most +congenial to his profound intellect. His attention became fixed in the +contemplation of a larger dimension of intelligences,--the veil of +darkness parted a little, and for a time he saw clearly in the light of +a Greater Universe. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +Atossa quitted the terrace where she had been talking with Zoroaster, in +the full intention of returning speedily, but as she descended the +steps, a plan formed itself in her mind, which she determined to put +into immediate execution. Instead, therefore, of pursuing her way into +the portico of the inner court, when she reached the foot of the +staircase, she turned into a narrow passage that led into a long +corridor, lighted only by occasional small openings in the wall. A +little door gave access to this covered way, and when she entered, she +closed it behind her, and tried to fasten it. But the bolt was rusty, +and in order to draw it, she laid down the scroll she carried, upon a +narrow stone seat by the side of the door; and then, with a strong +effort of both her small white hands, she succeeded in moving the lock +into its place. Then she turned quickly and hastened down the dusky +corridor. At the opposite end a small winding stair led upwards into +darkness. There were stains upon the lowest steps, just visible in the +half light. Atossa gathered up her mantle and her under tunic, and trod +daintily, with a look of repugnance on her beautiful face. The stains +were made by the blood of the false Smerdis, her last husband, slain in +that dark stairway by Darius, scarcely three months before. + +Cautiously the queen felt her way upward till she reached a landing, +where a narrow aperture admitted a little light. Higher up there were +windows, and she looked carefully to her dress, and brushed away a +little dust that her mantle had swept from the wall in passing; and once +or twice, she looked back at the dark staircase with an expression of +something akin to disgust. At last she reached a door which opened upon +a terrace, much like the one where she had left Zoroaster a few moments +before, saving that the floor was less polished, and that the spaces +between the columns were half filled with hanging plants and creepers. +Upon the pavement at one end were spread rich carpets, and half a dozen +enormous cushions of soft-coloured silk were thrown negligently one upon +the other. Three doors, hung with curtains, opened upon the +balcony,--and near to the middle one, two slave-girls, clad in white, +crouched upon their heels and talked in an undertone. + +Atossa stepped forward upon the marble, and the rustle of her dress and +the quick short sound of her heeled shoes, roused the two slave-girls to +spring to their feet. They did not know the queen, but they thought it +best to make a low obeisance, while their dark eyes endeavoured quickly +to scan the details of her dress, without exhibiting too much boldness. +Atossa beckoned to one of them to come to her, and smiled graciously as +the dark-skinned girl approached. + +"Is not thy mistress Nehushta?" she inquired; but the girl looked +stupidly at her, not comprehending her speech. "Nehushta," repeated the +queen, pronouncing the name very distinctly with a questioning +intonation, and pointing to the curtained door. The slave understood +the name and the question, and quick as thought, she disappeared within, +leaving Atossa in some hesitation. She had not intended to send for the +Hebrew princess, for she thought it would be a greater compliment to let +Nehushta find her waiting; but since the barbarian slave had gone to +call her mistress, there was nothing to be done but to abide the result. + +Nehushta, however, seemed in no hurry to answer the summons, for the +queen had ample time to examine the terrace, and to glance through the +hanging plants at the sunlit meadows and the flowing stream to +southward, before she heard steps behind the curtain, and saw it lifted +to allow the princess to pass. + +The dark maiden was now fully refreshed and rested from the journey, and +she came forward to greet her guest in her tunic, without her mantle, a +cloud of soft white Indian gauze loosely pinned upon her black hair and +half covering her neck. Her bodice-like belt was of scarlet and gold, +and from one side there hung a rich-hilted knife of Indian steel in a +jewelled sheath. The long sleeves of her tunic were drawn upon her arms +into hundreds of minute folds, and where the delicate stuff hung in an +oblong lappet over her hands, there was fine needlework and embroidery +of gold. She moved easily, with a languid grace of secure motion; and +she bent her head a little as Atossa came quickly to meet her. + +The queen's frank smile was on her face as she grasped both Nehushta's +hands in cordial welcome, and for a moment, the two women looked into +each other's eyes. Nehushta had made up her mind to hate Atossa from the +first, but she did not belong to that class of women who allow their +feelings to show themselves, and afterwards feel bound by the memory of +what they have shown. She, too, smiled most sweetly as she surveyed the +beautiful fair queen from beneath her long drooping lids, and examined +her appearance with all possible minuteness. She remembered her well +enough, but so warm was the welcome she received, that she almost +thought she had misjudged Atossa in calling her hard and cold. She drew +her guest to the cushions upon the carpets, and they sat down side by +side. + +"I have been talking about you already this morning, my princess," began +Atossa, speaking at once in familiar terms, as though she were +conversing with an intimate friend. Nehushta was very proud; she knew +herself to be of a race as royal as Atossa, though now almost extinct; +and in answering, she spoke in the same manner as the queen; so that the +latter was inwardly amused at the self-confidence of the Hebrew +princess. + +"Indeed?" said Nehushta, "there must be far more interesting things than +I in Shushan. I would have talked of you had I found any one to talk +with." + +The queen laughed a little. + +"As I was coming out this morning, I met an old friend of mine upon the +balcony before the king's apartment,--Zoroaster, the handsome captain. +We fell into conversation, how handsome he has grown since I saw him +last!" The queen watched Nehushta closely while affecting the greatest +unconcern, and she thought the shadows about the princess's eyes turned +a shade darker at the mention of the brilliant warrior. But Nehushta +answered calmly enough: + +"He took the most excellent care of us. I should like to see him to-day, +to thank him for all he did. I was tired last night and must have seemed +ungrateful." + +"What need is there of ever telling men we are grateful for what they do +for us?" returned the queen. "I should think there were not a noble in +the Great King's guard who would not give his right hand to take care of +you for a month, even if you never so much as noticed his existence." + +Nehushta laughed lightly at the compliment. + +"You honour me too much," she said, "but I suppose it is because most +women think as you do that men call us so ungrateful. I think you judge +from the standpoint of the queen, whereas I--" + +"Whereas you look at things from the position of the beautiful princess, +who is worshipped for herself alone, and not for the bounty and favour +she may, or may not, dispense to her subjects." + +"The queen is dispensing much bounty and favour to one of her subjects +at this very moment," answered Nehushta quietly, as though deprecating +further flattery. + +"How glad you must be to have left that dreadful fortress at last!" +cried the queen sympathetically. "My father used to go there every +summer. I hated the miserable place, with those tiresome mountains and +those endless gardens without the least variety in them. You must be +very glad to have come here!" + +"It is true," replied Nehushta, "I never ceased to dream of Shushan. I +love the great city, and the people, and the court. I thought sometimes +that I should have died of the weariness of Ecbatana. The winters were +unbearable!" + +"You must learn to love us, too," said Atossa, very sweetly. "The Great +King wishes well to your race, and will certainly do much for your +country. There is, moreover, a kinsman of yours, who is coming soon, +expressly to confer with the king concerning the further rebuilding of +the temple and the city of Jerusalem." + +"Zorobabel?" asked Nehushta, quickly. + +"Yes--that is his name, I believe. Do you say Zerub-Ebel, or Zerub-Abel? +I know nothing of your language." + +"His name is Zorob-Abel," answered Nehushta. "Oh, I wish he might +persuade the Great King to do something for my people! Your father would +have done so much if he had lived." + +"Doubtless the Great King will do all that is possible for establishing +the Hebrews and promoting their welfare," said the queen; but a distant +look in her eyes showed that her thoughts were no longer concentrated on +the subject. "Your friend Zoroaster," she added presently, "could be of +great service to you and your cause, if he wished." + +"I would that he were a Hebrew!" exclaimed Nehushta, with a little sigh, +which did not escape Atossa. + +"Is he not? I always thought that he had secretly embraced your faith. +With his love of study and with his ideas, it seemed so natural." + +"No," replied Nehushta, "he is not one of us, nor will he ever be. After +all, though, it is perhaps of little moment what one believes when one +is so just as he." + +"I have never been able to understand the importance of religion," said +the beautiful queen, spreading her white hand upon the purple of her +mantle, and contemplating its delicate outline tenderly. "For my own +part, I am fond of the sacrifices and the music and the chants. I love +to see the priests go up to the altar, two and two, in their white +robes,--and then to see how they struggle to hold up the bullock's head, +so that his eyes may see the sun,--and how the red blood gushes out like +a beautiful fountain. Have you ever seen a great sacrifice?" + +"Oh yes! I remember when I was quite a little girl, when Cambyses--I +mean--when the king came to the throne--it was magnificent!" Nehushta +was not used to hesitate in her speech, but as she recalled the day when +Cambyses was made king, it suddenly came over her that any reminiscences +of the past might be painful to the extraordinary woman by her side. But +Atossa showed no signs of being disturbed. On the contrary, she smiled +more sweetly than ever, though there was perhaps a slight affectation of +sadness in her voice as she answered: + +"Do not fear to hurt me by referring to those times, dear princess. I am +accustomed to speak of them well enough. Yes, indeed I remember that +great day, with the bright sun shining upon the procession, and the cars +with four horses that they dedicated to the sun, and the milk-white +horse that they slaughtered upon the steps of the temple. How I cried +for him, poor beast! It seemed so cruel to sacrifice a horse! Even a few +black slaves would have been a more natural offering, or a couple of +Scythians." + +"I remember," said Nehushta, somewhat relieved at the queen's tone. "Of +course I have now and then seen processions in Ecbatana, but Daniel +would not let me go to the temple. They say Ecbatana is very much +changed since the Great King has not gone there in summer. It is very +quiet--it is given over to horse-merchants and grain-sellers, and they +bring all the salted fish there from the Hyrcanian sea, so that some of +the streets smell horribly." + +Atossa laughed at the description, more out of courtesy than because it +amused her. + +"In my time," she answered, "the horse-market was in the meadow by the +road toward Zagros, and the fish-sellers were not allowed to come within +a farsang of the city. The royal nostrils were delicate. But everything +is changed--here, everywhere. We have had several--revolutions--religious +ones, I mean of course, and so many people have been killed that there is +a savour of death in the air. It is amazing how much trouble people will +give themselves about the question of sacrificing a horse to the sun, or +a calf to Auramazda, or an Ethiopian to Nabon or Ashtaroth! And these +Magians! They are really no more descendants of the priests in the Aryan +home than I am a Greek. Half of them are nearly black--they are Hindus +and speak Persian with an accent. They believe in a vast number of gods +of all sizes and descriptions, and they sing hymns, in which they say that +all these gods are the same. It is most confusing, and as the principal +part of their chief sacrifice consists in making themselves exceedingly +drunk with the detestable milkweed juice of which they are so fond, the +performance is disgusting. The Great King began by saying that if they +wished to sacrifice to their deities, they might do so, provided no one +could find them doing it; and if they wished to be drunk, they might be +drunk when and where they pleased; but that if they did the two together, +he would crucify every Magian in Persia. His argument was very amusing. +He said that a man who is drunk naturally speaks the truth, whereas a man +who sacrifices to false gods inevitably tells lies; wherefore a man who +sacrifices to false gods when he is drunk, runs the risk of telling lies +and speaking the truth at the same time, and is consequently a creature +revolting to logic, and must be immediately destroyed for the good of +the whole race of mankind." + +Nehushta had listened with varying attention to the queen's account of +the religious difficulties in the kingdom, and she laughed at the +Megoeric puzzle by which Darius justified the death of the Magians. But +in her heart she longed to see Zoroaster, and was weary of entertaining +her royal guest. By way of diversion she clapped her hands, and ordered +the slaves who came at her summons to bring sweetmeats and sherbet of +crushed fruit and snow. + +"Are you fond of hunting?" asked Atossa, delicately taking a little +piece of white fig-paste. + +"I have never been allowed to hunt," answered Nehushta. "Besides, it +must be very tiring." + +"I delight in it--the fig-paste is not so good as it used to be--there +is a new confectioner. Darius considered that the former one had +religious convictions involving the telling of lies--and this is the +result! We are fallen low indeed when we cannot eat a Magian's pastry! I +am passionately fond of hunting, but it is far from here to the desert +and the lions are scarce. Besides, the men who are fit for lion-hunting +are generally engaged in hunting their fellow-creatures." + +"Does the Great King hunt?" inquired Nehushta, languidly sipping her +sherbet from a green jade goblet, as she lay among her cushions, +supporting herself upon one elbow. + +"Whenever he has leisure. He will talk of nothing else to you--" + +"Surely," interrupted Nehushta, with an air of perfect innocence, "I +shall not be so far honoured as that the Great King should talk with +me?" + +Atossa raised her blue eyes and looked curiously at the dark princess. +She knew nothing of what had passed the night before, save that the king +had seen Nehushta for a few moments, but she knew his character well +enough to imagine that his frank and, as she thought, undignified manner +might have struck Nehushta even in that brief interview. The idea that +the princess was already deceiving her flashed across her mind. She +smiled more tenderly than ever, with a little added air of sadness that +gave her a wonderful charm. + +"Yes, the Great King is very gracious to the ladies of the court," she +said. "You are so beautiful and so different from them all that he will +certainly talk long with you after the banquet this evening--when he has +drunk much wine." The last words were added with a most special +sweetness of tone. + +Nehushta's face flushed a little as she drank more sherbet before she +answered. Then, letting her soft dark eyes rest, as though in +admiration, upon the queen's face, she spoke in a tone of gentle +deprecation: + + _"Shall a man prefer the darkness of night to the + glories of risen day? + Or shall a man turn from the lilies to pluck the + lowly flower of the field?"_ + +"You know our poets, too?" exclaimed Atossa, pleased with the graceful +tone of the compliment, but still looking at Nehushta with curious eyes. +There was a self-possession about the Hebrew princess that she did not +like; it was as though some one had suddenly taken a quality of her own +and made it theirs and displayed it before her eyes. There was indeed +this difference, that while Atossa's calm and undisturbed manner was +generally real, Nehushta's was assumed, and she herself felt that, at +any moment, it might desert her at her utmost need. + +"So you know our poets?" repeated the queen, and this time she laughed +lightly. "Indeed I fear the king will talk to you more than ever, for he +loves poetry, I daresay Zoroaster, too, has repeated many verses to you +in the winter evenings at Ecbatana. He used to know endless poetry when +he was a boy." + +This time Nehushta looked at the queen, and wondered how she, who could +not be more than two or three and twenty years old, although now married +to her third husband, could speak of having known Zoroaster as a boy, +seeing that he was past thirty years of age. She turned the question +upon the queen. + +"You must have seen Zoroaster very often before he left Shushan," she +said. "You know him so well." + +"Yes--every one knew him. He was the favourite of the court, with his +beauty and his courage and his strange affection for that old--for the +old Hebrew prophet. That is why Cambyses sent them both away," added she +with a light laugh. "They were far too good, both of them, to be endured +among the doings of those times." + +Atossa spoke readily enough of Cambyses. Nehushta wondered whether she +could be induced to speak of Smerdis. Her supposed ignorance of the true +nature of what had occurred in the last few months would permit her to +speak of the dead usurper with impunity. + +"I suppose there have been great changes lately in the manners of the +court--during this last year," suggested Nehushta carelessly. She pulled +a raisin from the dry stem, and tried to peel it with her delicate +fingers. + +"Indeed there have been changes," answered Atossa, calmly. "A great many +things that used to be tolerated will never be heard of now. On the +whole, the change has been rather in relation to religion than +otherwise. You will understand that in one year we have had three court +religions. Cambyses sacrificed to Ashtaroth--and I must say he made a +most appropriate choice of his tutelary goddess. Smerdis"--continued the +queen in measured tones and with the utmost calmness of manner--"Smerdis +devoted himself wholly to the worship of Indra, who appeared to be a +convenient association of all the most agreeable gods; and the Great +King now rules the earth by the grace of Auramazda. I, for my part, have +always inclined to the Hebrew conception of one God--perhaps that is +much the same as Auramazda, the All-Wise. What do you think?" + +Nehushta smiled at the deft way in which the queen avoided speaking of +Smerdis by turning the conversation again to religious topics. But +fearing another lecture on the comparative merits of idolatry, human +sacrifice, and monotheism, she manifested very little interest in the +subject. + +"I daresay it is the same. Zoroaster always says so, and that was the +one point that Daniel could never forgive him. The sun is coming through +those plants upon your head--shall we not have our cushions moved into +the shade at the other end?" She clapped her hands and rose languidly, +offering her hand to Atossa. But the queen sprang lightly to her feet. + +"I have stayed too long," she said. "Come with me, dearest princess, and +we will go out into the orange gardens upon the upper terrace. Perhaps," +she added, adjusting the folds of her mantle, "we shall find Zoroaster +there, or some of the princes, or even the Great King himself. Or, +perhaps, it would amuse you to see where I live?" + +Nehushta received her mantle from her slaves, and one of them brought +her a linen tiara in place of the gauze veil she had twisted about her +hair. But Atossa would not permit the change. + +"It is too beautiful!" she cried enthusiastically. "So new! you must +really not change it." + +She put her arm around Nehushta affectionately and led her towards the +door of the inner staircase. Then suddenly she paused, as though +recollecting herself. + +"No," she said, "I will show you the way I came. It is shorter and you +should know it. It may be of use to you." + +So they left the balcony by the little door that was almost masked by +one of the great pillars, and descended the dark stairs. Nehushta +detested every sort of bodily inconvenience, and inwardly wished the +queen had not changed her mind, but had led her by an easier way. + +"It is not far," said the queen, descending rapidly in front of her. + +"It is dreadfully steep," objected Nehushta, "and I can hardly see my +way at all. How many steps are there?" + +"Only a score more," answered the queen's voice, farther down. She +seemed to be hurrying, but Nehushta had no intention of going any +faster, and carefully groped her way. As she began to see a glimmer of +light at the last turn of the winding stair, she heard loud voices in +the corridor below. With the cautious instinct of her race, she paused +and listened. The hard, quick tones of an angry man dominated the rest. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +Zoroaster had sat for nearly an hour, his eyes fixed on the blue sky, +his thoughts wandering in contemplation of things greater and higher +than those of earth, when he was roused by the measured tread of armed +men marching in a distant room. In an instant he stood up, his helmet on +his head,--the whole force of military habit bringing him back suddenly +to the world of reality. In a moment the same heavy curtain, from under +which Atossa had issued two hours before, was drawn aside, and a double +file of spearmen came out upon the balcony, ranging themselves to right +and left with well-drilled precision. A moment more, and the king +himself appeared, walking alone, in his armour and winged helmet, his +left hand upon the hilt of his sword, his splendid mantle hanging to the +ground behind his shoulders. As he came between the soldiers, he walked +more slowly, and his dark, deep-set eyes seemed to scan the bearing and +accoutrements of each separate spearman. It was rarely indeed, in those +early days of his power, that he laid aside his breastplate for the +tunic, or his helmet for the tiara and royal crown. In his whole air and +gait the character of the soldier dominated, and the look of the +conqueror was already in his face. + +Zoroaster strode forward a few paces, and stood still as the king caught +sight of him, preparing to prostrate himself, according to the ancient +custom. But Darius checked him by a gesture; turning half round, he +dismissed the guard, who filed back through the door as they had come, +and the curtain fell behind them. + +"I like not these elaborate customs," said the king. "A simple +salutation, the hand to the lips and forehead--it is quite enough. A man +might win a battle if he had all the time that it takes him to fall down +at my feet and rise up again, twenty times in a day." + +As the king's speech seemed to require no answer, Zoroaster stood +silently waiting for his orders. Darius walked to the balustrade and +stood in the full glare of the sun for a moment, looking out. Then he +came back again. + +"The town seems to be quiet this morning," he said. "How long did the +queen tarry here talking with thee, Zoroaster?" + +"The queen talked with her servant for the space of half an hour," +answered Zoroaster, without hesitation, though he was astonished at the +suddenness and directness of the question. + +"She is gone to see thy princess," continued the king. + +"The queen told her servant it was yet too early to see Nehushta," +remarked the warrior. + +"She is gone to see her, nevertheless," asserted Darius, in a tone of +conviction. "Now, it stands in reason that when the most beautiful woman +in the world has been told that another woman is come who is more +beautiful than she, she will not lose a moment in seeing her." He eyed +Zoroaster curiously for a moment, and his thick black beard did not +altogether hide the smile on his face. "Come," he added, "we shall find +the two together." + +The king led the way and Zoroaster gravely followed. They passed down the +staircase by which the queen had gone, and entering the low passage, came +to the small door which she had bolted behind her with so much difficulty. +The king pushed his weight against it, but it was still fastened. + +"Thou art stronger than I, Zoroaster," he said, with a deep laugh. "Open +the door." + +The young warrior pushed heavily against the planks, and felt that one +of them yielded. Then, standing back, he dealt a heavy blow on the spot +with his clenched fist; a second, and the plank broke in. He put his arm +through the aperture, and easily slipped the bolt back, and the door +flew open. The blood streamed from his hand. + +"That is well done," said Darius as he entered. His quick eye saw +something white upon the stone bench in the dusky corner by the door. He +stooped and picked it up quickly. It was the sealed scroll Atossa had +left there when she needed both her hands to draw the bolt. Darius took +it to one of the narrow windows, looked at it curiously and broke the +seal. Zoroaster stood near and wiped the blood from his bruised knuckle. + +The contents of the scroll were short. It was addressed to one +Phraortes, of Ecbatana in Media, and contained the information that the +Great King had returned in triumph from Babylon, having subdued the +rebels and slain many thousands in two battles. Furthermore, that the +said Phraortes should give instant information of the queen's affairs, +and do nothing in regard to them until further intimation arrived. + +The king stood a moment in deep thought. Then he walked slowly down the +corridor, holding the scroll loose in his hand. Just at that instant +Atossa emerged from the dark staircase, and as she found herself face to +face with Darius, she uttered an exclamation and stood still. + +"This is very convenient place for our interview," said Darius quietly. +"No one can hear us. Therefore speak the truth at once." He held up the +scroll to her eyes. + +Atossa's ready wit did not desert her, nor did she change colour, though +she knew her life was in the balance with her words. She laughed lightly +as she spoke: + +"I came down the stairs this morning----" + +"To see the most beautiful woman in the world," interrupted Darius, +raising his voice. "You have seen her. I am glad of it. Why did you bolt +the door of the passage?" + +"Because I thought it unfitting that the passage to the women's +apartments should be left open when so many in the palace know the way," +she answered readily enough. + +"Where were you taking this letter when you left it at the door?" asked +the king, beginning to doubt whether there were anything wrong at all. + +"I was about to send it to Ecbatana," answered Atossa with perfect +simplicity. + +"Who is this Phraortes?" + +"He is the governor of the lands my father gave me for my own in Media. +I wrote him to tell him of the Great King's victory, and that he should +send me information concerning my affairs, and do nothing further until +he hears from me." + +"Why not?" + +"Because I thought it possible that the Great King would spend the +summer in Ecbatana, and that I should therefore be there myself to give +my own directions. I forgot the letter because I had to take both hands +to draw the bolt, and I was coming back to get it. Nehushta the princess +is with me--she is now upon the staircase." + +The king looked thoughtfully at his wife's beautiful face. + +"You have evidently spoken the truth," he said slowly. "But it is not +always easy to understand what your truth signifies. I often think it +would be much wiser to strangle you. Say you that Nehushta is near? Call +her, then. Why does she tarry?" + +In truth Nehushta had trembled as she crouched upon the stairs, not +knowing whether to descend or to fly up the steps again. As she heard +the queen pronounce her name, however, she judged it prudent to seem to +have been out of earshot, and with quick, soft steps, she went up till +she came to the lighted part, and there she waited. + +"Let the Great King go himself and find her," said Atossa proudly, "if +he doubts me any further." She stood aside to let him pass. But Darius +beckoned to Zoroaster to go. He had remained standing at some distance, +an unwilling witness to the royal altercation that had taken place +before him; but as he passed the queen, she gave him a glance of +imploring sadness, as though beseeching his sympathy in what she was +made to suffer. He ran quickly up the steps in spite of the darkness, +and found Nehushta waiting by the window higher up. She started as he +appeared, for he was the person she least expected. But he took her +quickly in his arms, and kissed her passionately twice. + +"Come quickly, my beloved," he whispered. "The king waits below." + +"I heard his voice--and then I fled," she whispered hurriedly; and they +began to descend again. "I hate her--I knew I should," she whispered, as +she leaned upon his arm. So they emerged into the corridor, and met +Darius waiting for them. The queen was nowhere to be seen, and the door +at the farther extremity of the narrow way was wide open. + +The king was as calm as though nothing had occurred; he still held the +open letter in his hand as Nehushta entered the passage, and bowed +herself before him. He took her hand for a moment, and then dropped it; +but his eyes flashed suddenly and his arm trembled at her touch. + +"Thou hadst almost lost thy way," he said. "The palace is large and the +passages are many and devious. Come now, I will lead thee to the +gardens. There thou canst find friends among the queen's noble women, +and amusements of many kinds. Let thy heart delight in the beauty of +Shushan, and if there is anything that thou desirest, ask and I will +give it thee." + +Nehushta bent her head in thanks. The only thing she desired was to be +alone for half an hour with Zoroaster; and that seemed difficult. + +"Thy servant desireth what is pleasant in thy sight," she answered. And +so they left the passage by the open door, and the king himself +conducted Nehushta to the entrance of the garden, and bade the +slave-woman who met them to lead her to the pavilion where the ladies of +the palace spent the day in the warm summer weather. Zoroaster knew that +whatever liberty his singular position allowed him in the quarter of the +building where the king himself lived, he was not privileged to enter +that place which was set apart for the noble ladies. Darius hated to be +always surrounded by guards and slaves, and the terraces and staircases +of his dwelling were generally totally deserted,--only small detachments +of spearmen guarding jealously the main entrances. But the remainder of +the palace swarmed with the gorgeously dressed retinue of the court, +with slaves of every colour and degree, from the mute smooth-faced +Ethiopian to the accomplished Hebrew scribes of the great nobles; from +the black and scantily-clad fan-girls to the dainty Greek tirewomen of +the queen's toilet, who loitered near the carved marble fountain at the +entrance to the gardens; and in the outer courts, detachments of the +horsemen of the guard rubbed their weapons, or reddened their broad +leather bridles and trappings with red chalk, or groomed the horse of +some lately arrived officer or messenger, or hung about and basked in +the sun, with no clothing but their short-sleeved linen tunics and +breeches, discussing the affairs of the nation with the certainty of +decision peculiar to all soldiers, high and low. There was only room for +a squadron of horse in the palace; but though they were few, they were +the picked men of the guard, and every one of them felt himself as +justly entitled to an opinion concerning the position of the new king, +as though he were at least a general. + +But Darius allowed no gossiping slaves nor wrangling soldiers in his own +dwelling. There all was silent and apparently deserted, and thither he +led Zoroaster again. The young warrior was astonished at the way in +which the king moved about unattended, as carelessly as though he were a +mere soldier himself; he was not yet accustomed to the restless +independence of character, to the unceasing activity and perfect +personal fearlessness of the young Darius. It was hard to realise that +this simple, hard-handed, outspoken man was the Great King, and occupied +the throne of the magnificent and stately Cyrus, who never stirred +abroad without the full state of the court about him; or that he reigned +in the stead of the luxurious Cambyses, who feared to tread upon +uncovered marble, or to expose himself to the draught of a staircase; +and who, after seven years of caring for his body, had destroyed himself +in a fit of impotent passion. Darius succeeded to the throne of Persia +as a lion coming into the place of jackals, as an eagle into a nest of +crows and carrion birds--untiring, violent, relentless and brave. + +"Knowest thou one Phraortes, of Ecbatana?" the king asked suddenly when +he was alone with Zoroaster. + +"I know him," answered the prince. "A man rich, and powerful, full of +vanity as a peacock, and of wiles like a serpent. Not noble. He is the +son of a fish-vendor, grown rich by selling salted sturgeons in the +market-place. He is also the overseer of the queen's farmlands in Media, +and of the Great King's horse-breeding stables." + +"Go forth and bring him to me," said the king shortly. Without a word, +Zoroaster made a brief salute and turned upon his heel to go. But it was +as though a man had thrust him through with a knife. The king gazed +after him in admiration of his magnificent obedience. + +"Stay!" he called out. "How long wilt thou be gone?" + +Zoroaster turned sharply round in military fashion, as he answered: + +"It is a hundred and fifty farsangs[3] to Ecbatana. By the king's relays +I can ride there in six days, and I can bring back Phraortes in six days +more--if he die not of the riding," he added, with a grim smile. + + [Footnote 3: Between five and six hundred English miles. South + American postilions at the present day ride six hundred miles a + week for a bare living.] + +"Is he old, or young? Fat, or meagre?" asked the king, laughing. + +"He is a man of forty years, neither thin nor fat--a good horseman in +his way, but not as we are." + +"Bind him to his horse if he falls off from weariness. And tell him he +is summoned to appear before me. Tell him the business brooks no delay. +Auramazda be with thee and bring thee help. Go with speed." + +Again Zoroaster turned and in a moment he was gone. He had sworn to be +the king's faithful servant, and he would keep his oath, cost what it +might, though it was bitterness to him to leave Nehushta without a word. +He bethought him as he hastily put on light garments for the journey, +that he might send her a letter, and he wrote a few words upon a piece +of parchment, and folded it together. As he passed by the entrance of +the garden on his way to the stables, he looked about for one of +Nehushta's slaves; but seeing none, he beckoned to one of the Greek +tirewomen, and giving her a piece of gold, bade her take the little +scroll to Nehushta, the Hebrew princess, who was in the gardens. Then he +went quickly on, and mounting the best horse in the king's stables, +galloped at a break-neck pace down the steep incline. In five minutes he +had crossed the bridge, and was speeding over the straight, dusty road +toward Nineveh. In a quarter of an hour, a person watching him from the +palace would have seen his flying figure disappearing as in a tiny speck +of dust far out upon the broad, green plain. + +But the Greek slave-woman stood with Zoroaster's letter in her hand and +held the gold piece he had given her in her mouth, debating what she +should do. She was one of the queen's women, as it chanced, and she +immediately reflected that she might turn the writing to some better +account than by delivering it to Nehushta, whom she had seen for a +moment that morning as she passed, and whose dark Hebrew face displeased +the frivolous Greek, for some hidden reason. She thought of giving the +scroll to the queen, but then she reflected that she did not know what +it contained. The words were written hastily and in the Chaldean +character. Their import might displease her mistress. The woman was not +a newcomer, and she knew Zoroaster's face well enough from former times; +she knew also, or suspected, that the queen secretly loved him, and she +argued from the fact of Zoroaster, who was dressed for a journey, +sending so hastily a word to Nehushta, that he loved the Hebrew +princess. Therefore, if the letter were a mere love greeting, with no +name written in it, the queen might apply it to herself, and she would +be pleased; whereas, if it were in any way clear that the writing was +intended for Nehushta, the queen would certainly be glad that it should +never be delivered. The result of this cunning argument was that the +Greek woman thrust the letter into her bosom, and the gold piece into +her girdle; and went to seek an opportunity of seeing the queen alone. + +That day, towards evening, Atossa sat in an inner chamber before her +great mirror; the table was covered with jade boxes, silver combs, bowls +of golden hair-pins, little ivory instruments, and all the appurtenances +of her toilet. Two or three magnificent jewels lay among the many +articles of use, gleaming in the reflected light of the two tall lamps +that stood on bronze stands beside her chair. She was fully attired and +had dismissed her women; but she lingered a moment, poring over the +little parchment scroll her chief hairdresser had slipped into her hand +when they were alone for a moment. Only a black fan-girl stood a few +paces behind her, and resting the stem of the long palm against one foot +thrust forward, swung the broad round leaf quickly from side to side at +arm's length, sending a constant stream of fresh air upon her royal +mistress, just below the level of the lamps which burned steadily above. + +The queen turned the small letter again in her hand, and smiled to +herself as she looked into the great burnished sheet of silver that +surmounted the table. With some difficulty she had mastered the +contents, for she knew enough of Hebrew and of the Chaldean character to +comprehend the few simple words. + +"I go hence for twelve days upon the king's business. My beloved, my +soul is with thy soul and my heart with thy heart. As the dove that +goeth forth in the morning and returneth in the evening to his mate, so +I will return soon to thee." + +Atossa knew well enough that the letter had been intended for Nehushta. +The woman had whispered that Zoroaster had given it to her, and +Zoroaster would never have written those words to herself; or, writing +anything, would not have written in the Hebrew language. + +But as the queen read, her heart rose up in wrath against the Persian +prince and against the woman he loved. When she had talked with him that +morning, she had felt her old yearning affection rising again in her +breast. She had wondered at herself, being accustomed to think that she +was beyond all feeling for man, and the impression she had received from +her half-hour's talk with him was so strong, that she had foolishly +delayed sending her letter to Phraortes, in order to see the woman +Zoroaster admired, and had, in her absence of mind, forgotten the +scroll upon the seat in the corridor, and had brought herself into such +desperate danger through the discovery of the missive, that she hardly +yet felt safe. The king had dismissed her peremptorily from his presence +while he waited for Nehushta, and she had not seen him during the rest +of the day. As for Zoroaster, she had soon heard from her women that he +had taken the road towards Nineveh before noon, alone and almost +unarmed, mounted upon one of the fleetest horses in Persia. She had not +a doubt that Darius had despatched him at once to Ecbatana to meet +Phraortes, or at least to inquire into the state of affairs in the city. +She knew that no one could outride Zoroaster, and that there was nothing +to be done but to await the issue. It was not possible to send a word of +warning to her agent--he must inevitably take his chance, and if his +conduct attracted suspicion, he would, in all probability, be at once +put to death. She believed that, even in that event, she could easily +clear herself; but she resolved, if possible, to warn him as soon as he +reached Shushan, or even to induce the king to be absent from the palace +for a few days at the time when Phraortes might be expected. There was +plenty of time--at least eleven days. + +Meanwhile, a desperate struggle was beginning within her, and the letter +her woman had brought her hastened the conclusion to which her thoughts +were rapidly tending. + +She felt keenly the fact that Zoroaster, who had been so cold to her +advances in former days, had preferred before her a Hebrew woman, and +was now actually so deeply in love with Nehushta, that he could not +leave the palace for a few days without writing her a word of love--he, +who had never loved any one! She fiercely hated this dark woman, who was +preferred before her by the man she secretly loved, and whom the king +had brutally declared to be the most beautiful woman in the world. She +longed for her destruction as she had never longed for anything in her +life. Her whole soul rose in bitter resentment; not only did Zoroaster +love this black-eyed, dark-browed child of captivity, but the king, who +had always maintained that Atossa was unequalled in the world, even when +he coldly informed her that he would never trust her, now dared to say +before Zoroaster, almost before Nehushta herself, that the princess was +the more beautiful of the two. The one man wounded her in her vanity, +the other in her heart. + +It would not be possible at present to be revenged upon the king. There +was little chance of eluding his sleepless vigilance, or of leading him +into any rash act of self-destruction. Besides, she knew him too well +not to understand that he was the only man alive who could save Persia +from further revolutions, and keep the throne against all comers. She +loved power and the splendour of her royal existence, perhaps more than +she loved Zoroaster. The idea of another change in the monarchy was not +to be thought of, now that Darius had subdued Babylon. She had indeed a +half-concerted plan with Phraortes to seize the power in Media in case +the king were defeated in Babylonia, and the scroll she had so +imprudently forgotten that very morning was merely an order to lay +aside all such plans for the present, since the king had returned in +triumph. + +As far as her conscience was concerned, Atossa would as soon have +overthrown and murdered the king to gratify the personal anger she felt +against him at the present moment, as she would have wrecked the +universe to possess a jewel she fancied. There existed in her mind no +idea of proportion between the gratification of her passions and the +means she might employ thereto; provided one gratification did not +interfere with another which she always saw beyond. Nothing startled her +on account of its mere magnitude; no plan was rejected by her merely +because it implied ruin to a countless number of human beings who were +useless to her. She coldly calculated the amount of satisfaction she +could at any time obtain for her wishes and desires, so as not to +prejudice the gratification of all the possible passions she might +hereafter experience. + +As for injuring Zoroaster, she would not have thought of it. She loved +him in a way peculiar to herself, but it was love, nevertheless,--and +she had no idea of wreaking her disappointment upon the object on which +she had set her heart. As a logical consequence, she determined to turn +all her anger against Nehushta, and she pictured to herself the +delicious pleasure of torturing the young princess's jealousy to +desperation. To convince Nehushta that Zoroaster was deceiving her, and +really loved herself, the queen; to force Zoroaster into some position +where he must either silently let Nehushta believe that he was attached +to Atossa, or, as an alternative, betray the king's secrets by speaking +the truth; to let Nehushta's vanity be flattered by the king's +admiration,--nay, even to force her into a marriage with Darius, and +then by suffering her again to fall into her first love for Zoroaster, +bring her to a public disgrace by suddenly unmasking her to the king--to +accomplish these things surely and quickly, reserving for herself the +final delight of scoffing at her worsted rival--all this seemed to +Atossa to constitute a plan at once worthy of her profound and scheming +intelligence, and most sweetly satisfactory to her injured vanity and +rejected love. + +It would be hard for her to see Nehushta married to the king, and +occupying the position of chief favourite even for a time. But the +triumph would be the sweeter when Nehushta was finally overthrown, and +meanwhile there would be much daily delight in tormenting the princess's +jealousy. Chance, or rather the cunning of her Greek tirewoman, had +thrown a weapon in her way which could easily be turned into an +instrument of torture, and as she sat before her mirror, she twisted and +untwisted the little bit of parchment, and smiled to herself, a sweet +bright smile--and leaned her head back to the pleasant breeze of the +fan. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +The noonday air was hot and dry in the garden of the palace, but in the +graceful marble pavilion there was coolness and the sound of gently +plashing water. Rose-trees and climbing plants screened the sunlight +from the long windows, and gave a soft green tinge to the eight-sided +hall, where a fountain played in the midst, its little jet falling into +a basin hollowed in the floor. On the rippling surface a few +water-lilies swayed gently with the constant motion, anchored by their +long stems to the bottom. All was cool and quiet and restful, and +Nehushta stood looking at the fountain. + +She was alone and very unhappy. Zoroaster had left the palace without a +word to her, and she knew only by the vague reports her slaves brought +her, that he was gone for many days. Her heart sank at the thought of +all that might happen before he returned, and the tears stood in her +eyes. + +"Are you here alone, dear princess?" said a soft, clear voice behind +her. Nehushta started, as though something had stung her, as she +recognised Atossa's tones. There was nothing of her assumed cordiality +of the previous day as she answered. She was too unhappy, too weary of +the thought that her lover was gone, to be able to act a part, or +pretend a friendliness she did not feel. + +"Yes--I am alone," she said quietly. + +"So am I," answered Atossa, her blue eyes sparkling with the sunshine +she brought in with her, and all her wonderful beauty beaming, as it +were, with an overflowing happiness. "The ladies of the court are gone +in state to the city, in the Great King's train, and you and I are alone +in the palace. How deliciously cool it is in here." + +She sat down upon a heap of cushions by one of the screened windows and +contemplated Nehushta, who still stood by the fountain. + +"You look sad--and tired, dearest Nehushta," said she presently. "Indeed +you must not be sad here--nobody is sad here!" + +"I am sad," repeated Nehushta, in a dreary, monotonous way, as though +scarcely conscious of what she was saying. There was a moment's silence +before Atossa spoke again. + +"Tell me what it is," she said at last, in persuasive accents. "Tell me +what is the matter. It may be that you lack something--that you miss +something you were used to in Ecbatana. Will you not tell me, dearest?" + +"Tell you what?" asked Nehushta, as though she had not heard. + +"Tell me what it is that makes you sad," repeated the queen. + +"Tell you?" exclaimed the princess, suddenly looking up, with flashing +eyes, "tell _you?_ oh no!" + +Atossa looked a little sadly at Nehushta, as though hurt at the want of +confidence she showed. But the Hebrew maiden turned away and went and +looked through the hanging plants at the garden without. Then Atossa +rose softly and came and stood behind her, and put her arm about her, +and let her own fair cheek rest against the princess's dark face. +Nehushta said nothing, but she trembled, as though something she hated +were touching her. + +"Is it because your friend has gone away suddenly?" asked Atossa almost +in a whisper, with the sweetest accent of sympathy. Nehushta started a +little. + +"No!" she answered, almost fiercely. "Why do you say that?" + +"Only--he wrote me a little word before he went. I thought you might +like to know he was safe," replied the queen, gently pressing her arm +about Nehushta's slender waist. + +"Wrote to you?" repeated the princess, in angry surprise. + +"Yes, dearest," answered the queen, looking down in well-feigned +embarrassment. "I would not have told you, only I thought you would wish +to hear of him. If you like, I will read you a part of what he says," +she added, producing from her bosom the little piece of parchment +carefully rolled together. + +It was more than Nehushta could bear. Her olive skin turned suddenly +pale, and she tore herself away from the queen. + +"Oh no! no! I will not hear it! Leave me in peace--for your gods' sake, +leave me in peace!" + +Atossa drew herself up and stared coldly at Nehushta, as though she were +surprised beyond measure and deeply offended. + +"Truly, I need not be told twice to leave you in peace," she said +proudly. "I thought to comfort you, because I saw you were sad--even at +the expense of my own feelings. I will leave you now--but I bear no +malice against you. You are very, very young, and very, very foolish." + +Atossa shook her head, thoughtfully, and swept from the pavilion in +stately and offended dignity. But as she walked alone through the +garden, she smiled to herself and softly hummed a merry melody she had +heard from an Egyptian actor on the previous evening. Darius had brought +a company of Egyptians from Babylon, and after the banquet, had +commanded that they should perform their music, and dancing, and +mimicry, for the amusement of the assembled court. + +Atossa's sweet voice echoed faintly among the orange trees and the +roses, as she went towards the palace, and the sound of it came +distantly to Nehushta's ears. She stood for a while where the queen had +left her, her face pale and her hands wringing together; and then, with +a sudden impulse, she went and threw herself upon the floor, and buried +her head in the deep, soft cushions. Her hands wandered in the wealth of +her black hair, and her quick, hot tears stained the delicate silk of +the pillows. + +How could he? How was it possible? He said he loved her, and now, when +he was sent away for many days, his only thought had been to write to +the queen--not to herself! An agony of jealousy overwhelmed her, and she +could have torn out her very soul, and trampled her own heart under her +feet in her anger. Passionately she clasped her hands to her temples; +her head seemed splitting with a new and dreadful pain that swallowed +all her thoughts for a moment, until the cold weight seemed again to +fall upon her breast and all her passion gushed out in abundant tears. +Suddenly a thought struck her. She roused herself, leaning upon one +hand, and stared vacantly a moment at her small gilded shoe which had +fallen from her bare foot upon the marble pavement. She absently reached +forward and took the thing in her hand, and gravely contemplated the +delicate embroidery and thick gilding, through her tears,--as one will +do a foolish and meaningless thing in the midst of a great sorrow. + +Was it possible that the queen had deceived her? How she wished she had +let her read the writing as she had offered to do. She did not imagine +at first that the letter was for herself and had gone astray. But she +thought the queen might easily have pretended to have received +something, or had even scratched a few words upon a bit of parchment, +meaning to pass it off upon her as a letter from Zoroaster. She longed +to possess the thing and to judge of it with her own eyes. It would +hardly be possible to say whether it were written by him or not, as far +as the handwriting was concerned; but Nehushta was sure she should +recognise some word, some turn of language that would assure her that it +was his. She could almost have risen and gone in search of the queen at +once, to prove the lie upon her--to challenge her to show the writing. +But her pride forbade her. She had been so weak--she should not have let +Atossa see, even for a moment, that she was hurt, not even that she +loved Zoroaster. She had tried to conceal her feelings, but Atossa had +gone too far, had tortured her beyond all endurance, and she knew that, +even if she had known what to expect, she could not have easily borne +the soft, infuriating, deadly, caressing, goading taunts of that fair, +cruel woman. + +Then again, the whole possibility of Zoroaster's unfaithfulness came and +took shape before her. He had known and loved Atossa of old, perhaps, +and now the old love had risen up and killed the new--he had sworn so +truly under the ivory moonlight in Ecbatana. And yet--he had written to +this other woman and not to her. Was it true? Was it Atossa's cruel lie? +In a storm of doubt and furious passion, her tears welled forth again; +and once more she hid her face in the pale yellow cushions, and her +whole beautiful body trembled and was wrung with her sobs. + +Suddenly she was aware that some one entered the little hall and stood +beside her. She dared not look up at first; she was unstrung and +wretched in her grief and anger, and it was the strong, firm tread of a +man. The footsteps ceased, and the intruder, whoever he might be, was +standing still; she took courage and looked quickly up. It was the king +himself. Indeed, she might have known that no other man would dare to +penetrate into the recesses of the garden set apart for the ladies of +the palace. + +Darius stood quietly gazing at her with an expression of doubt and +curiosity, that was almost amusing, on his stern, dark face. Nehushta +was frightened, and sprang to her feet with the graceful quickness of a +startled deer. She was indolent by nature, but as swift as light when +she was roused by fear or excitement. + +"Are you so unhappy in my palace?" asked Darius gently. "Why are you +weeping? Who has hurt you?" + +Nehushta turned her face away and dashed the tears from her eyes, while +her cheeks flushed hotly. + +"I am not weeping--no one--has hurt me," she answered, in a voice broken +rather by embarrassment and annoyance, than by the sorrow she had nearly +forgotten in her sudden astonishment at being face to face with the +king. + +Darius smiled, and almost laughed, as he stroked his thick beard with +his broad brown hand. + +"Princess," he said, "will you sit down again? I will deliver you a +discourse upon the extreme folly of ever telling"--he hesitated--"of +saying anything which is not precisely true." + +There was something so simple and honest in his manner of speaking, that +Nehushta almost smiled through her half-dried tears as she sat upon the +cushions at the king's feet. He himself sat down upon the broad marble +seat that ran round the eight-sided little building, and composing his +face to a serious expression, that was more than half-assumed, began to +deliver his lecture. + +"I take it for granted that when one tells a lie, he expects to be +believed. There must, then, be some thing or circumstance which can help +to make his lies credible. Now, my dear princess, in the present +instance, while I was looking you in the face and counting the tears +upon your very beautiful cheeks, you deliberately told me that you were +not weeping. There was, therefore, not even the shadow of a thing, or +circumstance which could make what you said credible. It is evident that +what you said was not true. Is it not so?" + +Nehushta could not help smiling as she looked up and saw the kindly +light in the king's dark eyes. She thought she understood he was amusing +her for the sake of giving her time to collect herself, and in spite of +the determined intention of marrying her he had so lately expressed, she +felt safe with him. + +"The king lives for ever," she answered, in the set phrase of assent +common at the court. + +"It is very probable," replied Darius gravely. "So many people say so, +that I should have to believe all mankind liars if that were not true. +But I must return to your own particular case. It would have been easy +for you not to have said what you did. I must therefore suppose that in +going out of the way to make an attempt to deceive me in the face of +such evidence--by saying you were not weeping when the tears were +actually falling from those very soft eyes of yours--you had an object +to gain. Men employ truth and falsehood for much the same reason: A man +who does not respect truth will, therefore, lie when he can hope to gain +more by it. The man who lies expects to gain something by his lie, and +the man who tells the truth hopes that, in so doing, he will establish +himself a credit which he can use upon future occasions.[4] But the +object is the same. Tell me, therefore, princess, what did you hope to +gain by trying to deceive me?" Darius laughed as he concluded his +argument and looked at Nehushta to see what she would say--Nehushta +laughed also, she could hardly tell why. The king's brilliant, active +humour was catching. She reached out and thrust her foot into the little +slipper that still lay beside her, before she answered. + + [Footnote 4: Herodotus, book iii. chap. lxxii.] + +"What I said was true in one way and not in another," she said. "I had +been crying bitterly, but I stopped when I heard the king come and stand +beside me. So it was only the tears the king saw and not the weeping. As +for the object,"--she laughed a little,--"it was, perhaps, that I might +gain time to dry my eyes." + +Darius shifted his position a little. + +"I know," he said gravely. "And I know why you were weeping, and it is +my fault. Will you forgive me, princess? I am a hasty man, not +accustomed to think twice when I give my commands." + +Nehushta looked up suddenly with an expression of inquiry. + +"I sent him away very quickly," continued the king. "If I had thought, I +would have told him to come and bid you farewell. He would not have +willingly gone without seeing you--it was my fault. He will return in +twelve days." + +Nehushta was silent and bit her lip as the bitter thought arose in her +heart that it was not alone Zoroaster's sudden departure that had pained +her. Then it floated across her mind that the king had purposely sent +away her lover in order that he might himself try to win her heart. + +"Why did you send him--and not another?" she asked, without looking up, +and forgetting all formality of speech. + +"Because he is the man of all others whom I can trust, and I needed a +faithful messenger," answered Darius, simply. + +Nehushta gazed into the king's face searching for some sign there, but +he had spoken earnestly enough. + +"I thought--" she began, and then stopped short, blushing crimson. + +"You thought," answered Darius, "that I had sent him away never to +return because I desire you for my wife. It was natural, but it was +unjust. I sent him because I was obliged to do so. If you wish it, I +will leave you now, and I will promise you that I will not look upon +your face till Zoroaster returns." + +Nehushta looked down and she still blushed. She could hardly believe her +ears. + +"Indeed," she faltered, "it were perhaps--best--I mean--" she could not +finish the sentence. Darius rose quietly from his seat: + +"Farewell, princess; it shall be as you desire," he said gravely, and +strode towards the door. His face was pale and his lips set tight. + +Nehushta hesitated and then, in a moment, she comprehended the whole +nobility of soul of the young king,--a man at whose words the whole land +trembled, who crushed his enemies like empty egg-shells beneath his +feet, and yet who, when he held the woman he loved completely in his +power, refused, even for a moment, to intrude his presence upon her +against her wish. + +She sprang from her seat and ran to him, and kneeled on one knee and +took his hand. He did not look at her, but his own hand trembled +violently in hers, and he made as though he would lift her to her feet. + +"Nay," she cried, "let not my lord be angry with his handmaiden! Let the +king grant me my request, for he is the king of men and of kings!" In +her sudden emotion she spoke once more in the form of a humble subject +addressing her sovereign. + +"Speak, princess," answered Darius. "If it be possible, I will grant +your request." + +"I would--" she stopped, and again the generous blood overspread her +dark cheek. "I would--I know not what I would, saving to thank thee for +thy goodness and kindness--I was unhappy, and thou hast comforted me. I +meant not that it was best that I should not look upon the king's face." +She spoke the last words in so low a tone as she bent her head, that +Darius could scarcely hear them. But his willing ears interpreted +rightly what she said, and he understood. + +"Shall I come to you to-morrow, princess, at the same hour?" he asked, +almost humbly. + +"Nay, the king knoweth that the garden is ever full of the women of the +court," said Nehushta, hesitating; for she thought that it would be a +very different matter to be seen from a distance by all the ladies of +the palace in conversation with the king. + +"Do not fear," answered Darius. "The garden shall be yours. There are +other bowers of roses in Shushan whither the women can go. None but you +shall enter here, so long as it be your pleasure. Farewell, I will come +to you to-morrow at noon." + +He turned and looked into her eyes, and then she took his hand and +silently placed it upon her forehead in thanks. In a moment he was gone +and she could hear his quick tread upon the marble of the steps outside, +and in the path through the roses. When she knew that he was out of +sight, Nehushta went out and stood in the broad blaze of the noonday +sun. She passed her hand over her forehead, as though she had been +dazed. It seemed as though a change had come over her and she could not +understand it. + +In the glad security of being alone, she ran swiftly down one of the +paths, and across by another. Then she stopped short and bent down a +great bough of blooming roses and buried her beautiful dark face in the +sweet leaves and smelled the perfume, and laughed. + +"Oh! I am so happy!" she cried aloud. But her face suddenly became +grave, as she tried to understand what she felt. After all, Zoroaster +was only gone for twelve days, and meanwhile she had secured her +liberty, the freedom of wandering all day in the beautiful gardens, and +she could dream of him to her heart's content. And the letter? It was a +forgery, of course. That wicked queen loved Zoroaster and wished to make +Nehushta give him up! Perhaps she might tell the king something of it +when he came on the next day. He would be so royally angry! He would so +hate the lie! And yet, in some way, it seemed to her that she could not +tell Darius of this trouble. He had been so kind, so gentle, as though +he had been her brother, instead of the Great King himself, who bore +life and death in his right hand and his left, whose shadow was a terror +to the world already, and at whose brief, imperious word a nation rose +to arms and victory. Was this the terrible Darius? The man who had slain +the impostor with his own sword? who had vanquished rebel Babylon in a +few days and brought home four thousand captives at his back? He was as +gentle as a girl, this savage warrior--but when she recalled his +features, she remembered the stern look that came into his face when he +was serious, she grew thoughtful and wandered slowly down the path, +biting a rose-leaf delicately with her small white teeth and thinking +many things; most of all, how she might be revenged upon Atossa for what +she had suffered that morning. + +But Atossa herself was enjoying at that very moment the triumph of the +morning and quietly planning how she might continue the torment she had +imagined for Nehushta, without allowing its cruelty to diminish, while +keeping herself amused and occupied to the fullest extent until +Zoroaster should return. It was not long before she learned from her +chief tirewoman that the king had been in the pavilion of the garden +with Nehushta that morning, and it at once occurred to her that, if the +king returned on the following day, it would be an easy thing to appear +while he was with the princess, and by veiled words and allusions to +Zoroaster, to make her rival suffer the most excruciating torments, +which she would be forced to conceal from the king. + +But, at the same time, the news gave her cause for serious thought. She +had certainly not intended that Nehushta should be left alone for hours +with Darius. She knew indeed that the princess loved Zoroaster, but she +could not conceive that any woman should be insensible to the +consolation the Great King could offer. If affairs took such a turn, she +fully intended to allow the king to marry Nehushta, while she +confidently believed it in her power to destroy her just when she had +reached the summit of her ambition. + +It chanced that the king chose that day to eat his evening meal in the +sole company of Atossa, as he sometimes did when weary of the court +ceremony. When, therefore, they reclined at sundown upon a small +secluded terrace of the upper story, Atossa found an excellent +opportunity of discussing Nehushta and her doings. + +Darius lay upon a couch on one side of the low table, and Atossa was +opposite to him. The air was dry and intensely hot, and on each side two +black fan-girls plied their palm-leaves silently with all their might. +The king lay back upon his cushions, his head uncovered, and all his +shaggy curls of black hair tossed behind him, his broad, strong hand +circling a plain goblet of gold that stood beside him on the table. For +once, he had laid aside his breastplate, and a vest of white and purple +fell loosely over his tunic; but his sword of keen Indian steel lay +within reach upon the floor. + +Atossa had raised herself upon her elbow, and her clear blue eyes were +fixed upon the king's face, thoughtfully, as though expecting that he +would say something. Contrary to all custom, she wore a Greek tunic +with short sleeves caught at the shoulders by golden buckles, and her +fair hair was gathered into a heavy knot, low down, behind her head. Her +dazzling arms and throat were bare, but above her right elbow she wore a +thick twisted snake of gold, her only ornament. + +"The king is not athirst to-night," said Atossa at last, watching the +full goblet that he grasped, but did not raise. + +"I am not always thirsty," answered Darius moodily. "Would you have me +always drunk, like a Babylonian dog?" + +"No; nor always sober, like a Persian captain." + +"What Persian captain?" asked the king, suddenly looking at her and +knitting his brows. + +"Why, like him, whom, for his sobriety you have sent to-day on the way +to Nineveh," answered Atossa. + +"I have sent no one to Nineveh to-day." + +"To Ecbatana then, to inquire whether I told you the truth about my poor +servant Phraortes--Fravartish, as you call him," said the queen, with a +flash of spite in her blue eyes. + +"I assure you," answered the king, laughing, "that it is solely on +account of your remarkable beauty that I have not had you strangled. So +soon as you grow ugly you shall surely die. It is very unwise of me, as +it is!" + +The queen, too, laughed, a low, silvery laugh. + +"I am greatly indebted for my life," said she. "I am very beautiful, I +am aware, but I am no longer the most beautiful woman in the world." She +spoke without a trace of annoyance in her voice or face, as though it +were a good jest. + +"No," said Darius, thoughtfully. "I used to think that you were. It is +in the nature of man to change his opinion. You are, nevertheless, very +beautiful--I admire your Greek dress." + +"Shall I send my tirewoman with one like it to Nehushta?" inquired +Atossa, raising her delicate eyebrows, with a sweet smile. + +"You will not need to improve her appearance in order that she may find +favour in my eyes," answered Darius, laughing. "But the jest is good. +You would rather send her an Indian snake than an ornament." + +"Yes," returned the queen, who understood the king's strange character +better than any one. "You cannot in honesty expect me not to hate a +woman whom you think more beautiful than me! It would hardly be natural. +It is unfortunate that she should prefer the sober Persian captain to +the king himself." + +"It is unfortunate--yes--fortunate for you, however." + +"I mean, it will chafe sadly upon you when you have married her," said +Atossa, calmly. + +Darius raised the goblet he still held and setting it to his lips drank +it at a draught. As he replaced it on the table, Atossa rose swiftly, +and with her own hands refilled it from a golden ewer. The wine was of +Shiraz, dark and sweet and strong. The king took her small white hand in +his, as she stood beside him, and looked at it. + +"It is a beautiful hand," he said. "Nehushta's fingers are a trifle +shorter than yours--a little more pointed--a little less grasping. +Shall I marry Nehushta, or not?" He looked up as he asked the question, +and he laughed. + +"No," answered Atossa, laughing too. + +"Shall I marry her to Zoroaster?" + +"No," she answered again, but her laugh was less natural. + +"What shall I do with her?" asked the king. + +"Strangle her!" replied Atossa, with a little fierce pressure on his +hand as he held hers, and without the least hesitation. + +"There would be frequent sudden deaths in Persia, if you were king," +said Darius. + +"It seems to me there are enough slain, as it is," answered the queen. +"There are, perhaps, one--or two----" + +Suddenly the king's face grew grave, and he dropped her hand. + +"Look you!" he said, "I love jesting. But jest not overmuch with me. Do +no harm to Nehushta, or I will make an end of your jesting for ever, by +sure means. That white throat of yours would look ill with a bow-string +about it." + +The queen bit her lip. The king seldom spoke to her in earnest, and she +was frightened. + +On the following day, when she went to the garden, two tall spearmen +guarded the entrance, and as she was about to go in, they crossed their +lances over the marble door and silently barred the way. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + + +Atossa started back in pure astonishment and stared for a moment at the +two guards, looking from one to the other, and trying to read their +stolid faces. Then she laid her hand on their spears, and would have +pushed them aside; but she could not. + +"Whose hounds are ye?" she said angrily. "Know ye not the queen? Make +way!" + +But the two strong soldiers neither answered nor removed their weapons +from before the door. + +"Dog-faced slaves!" she said between her teeth. "I will crucify you both +before sundown!" She turned and went away, but she was glad that no one +was there in the narrow vestibule before the garden to see her +discomfiture. It was the first time in her life she had ever been +resisted by an inferior, and she could not bear it easily. But when she +discovered, half an hour later, that the guards were obeying the Great +King's orders, she bowed her head silently and went to her apartments to +consider what she should do. + +She could do nothing. There was no appeal against the king's word. He +had distinctly commanded that no one save Nehushta, not even Atossa +herself, was to be allowed to enter; he had placed the guards there +himself the previous day, and had himself given the order. + +For eleven days the door was barred; but Atossa did not again attempt to +enter. Darius would have visited roughly such an offence, and she knew +how delicate her position was. She resigned herself and occupied her +mind with other things. Daily, an hour before noon, Nehushta swept +proudly through the gate, and disappeared among the roses and myrtles of +the garden; and daily, precisely as the sun reached the meridian, the +king went in between the spearmen, and disappeared in like manner. + +Darius had grown so suddenly stern and cold in manner towards the queen, +that she dared not even mention the subject of the garden to him, +fearing a sadden outburst of his anger, which would surely put an end to +her existence in the court, and very likely to her life. + +As for Nehushta, she had plentiful cause for reflection and much time +for dreaming. If the days were not happy, they were at least made +bearable for her by the absolute liberty she enjoyed. The king would +have given her slaves and jewels and rich gifts without end, had she +been willing to accept them. She said she had all she needed--and she +said it a little proudly; only the king's visits grew to be the centre +of the day, and each day the visit lengthened, till it came to be nearly +evening when Darius issued from the gate. + +She always waited for him in the eight-sided pavilion, and as their +familiarity grew, the king would not even permit her to rise when he +came, nor to use any of those forms of the court speech which were so +distasteful to him. He simply sat himself down beside her, and talked to +her and listened to her answers, as though he were one of his own +subjects, no more hampered by the cares and state of royalty than any +soldier in the kingdom. + +It was a week since Zoroaster had mounted to ride to Ecbatana, and +Darius sat as usual upon the marble bench by the side of Nehushta, who +rested among the cushions, talking now without constraint upon all +matters that chanced to occur as subjects of conversation. She thought +Darius was more silent than usual, and his dark face was pale. He seemed +weary, as though from some great struggle, and presently Nehushta +stopped speaking and waited to see whether the king would say anything. + +During the silence nothing was heard saving the plash of the little +fountain, and the low soft ripple of the tiny waves that rocked +themselves against the edge of the basin. + +"Do you know, Nehushta," he said at last, in a weary voice, "that I am +doing one of the worst actions of my life?" + +Nehushta started, and the shadows in her face grew darker. + +"Say rather the kindest action you ever did," she murmured. + +"If it is not bad, it is foolish," said Darius, resting his chin upon +his hand and leaning forward. "I would rather it were foolish than +bad--I fear me it is both." + +Nehushta could guess well enough what it was he would say. She knew she +could have turned the subject, or laughed, or interrupted him in many +ways; but she did none of these things. An indescribable longing seized +her to hear him say that he loved her. What could it matter? He was so +loyal and good that he could never be more than a friend. He was the +king of the world--had he not been honest and kind, he would have needed +no wooing to do as he pleased to do, utterly and entirely. A word from +his lips and the name of Zoroaster would be but the memory of a man +dead; and again a word, and Nehushta would be the king's wife! What need +had he of concealment, or of devious ways? He was the king of the earth, +whose shadow was life and death, whose slightest wish was a law to be +enforced by hundreds of thousands of warriors! There was nothing between +him and his desires--nothing but that inborn justice and truth, in which +he so royally believed. Nehushta felt that she could trust him, and she +longed--out of mere curiosity, she thought--to hear him speak words of +love to her. It would only be for a moment--they would be so soon +spoken; and at her desire, he would surely not speak them again. It +seemed so sweet, she knew not why, to make this giant of despotic power +do as she pleased; to feel that she could check him, or let him +speak--him whom all obeyed and feared, as they feared death itself. + +She looked up quietly, as she answered: + +"How can it be either bad or foolish of you to make others so happy?" + +"It seems as though it could be neither--and yet, all my reason tells me +it is both," replied the king earnestly. "Here I sit beside you, day +after day, deceiving myself with the thought that I am making your time +pass pleasantly till--" + +"There is not any deception in that," interrupted Nehushta gently. +Somehow she did not wish him to pronounce Zoroaster's name. "I can never +tell you how grateful I am--" + +"It is I who am grateful," interrupted the king in his turn. "It is I +who am grateful that I am allowed to be daily with you, and that you +speak with me, and seem glad when I come--" He hesitated and stopped. + +"What is there that is bad and foolish in that?" asked Nehushta, with a +sudden smile, as she looked up into his face. + +"There is more than I like to think," answered the king. "You say the +time passes pleasantly for you. Do you think it is less pleasant for +me?" His voice sank to a deep, soft tone, as he continued: "I sit here +day after day, and day after day I love you more and more. I love +you--where is the use of concealing that--if I could conceal it? You +know it. Perhaps you pity me, for you do not love me. You pity me who +hold the whole earth under my feet as an Egyptian juggler stands upon a +ball, and rolls it whither he will." He ceased suddenly. + +"Indeed I would that you did not love me," said Nehushta very gravely. +She looked down. The pleasure of hearing the king's words was indeed +exquisite, and she feared that her eyes might betray her. But she did +not love him. She wondered what he would say next. + +"You might as well wish that dry pastures should not burn when the sun +shines on them, and there is no rain," he answered with a passing +bitterness. "It is at least a satisfaction that my love does not harm +you--that you are willing to have me for your friend--" + +"Willing! Your friendship is almost the sweetest thing I know," +exclaimed the princess. The king's eyes flashed darkly. + +"Almost! Yes, truly--my friendship and another man's love are the +sweetest things! What would my friendship be without his love? By +Auramazda and the six Amshaspands of Heaven, I would it were my love and +his friendship! I would that Zoroaster were the king, and I Zoroaster, +the king's servant! I would give all Persia and Media, Babylon and +Egypt, and all the uttermost parts of my kingdom, to hear your sweet +voice say: 'Darius, I love thee!' I would give my right hand, I would +give my heart from my breast and my soul from my body--my life and my +strength, and my glory and my kingdom would I give to hear you say: +'Come, my beloved, and put thine arms about me!' Ah, child! you know not +what my love is--how it is higher than the heavens in worshipping you, +and broader than the earth to be filled with you, and deeper than the +depths of the sea, to change not, but to abide for you always." + +The king's voice was strong, and the power of his words found wings in +it, and seemed to fly forth irresistibly with a message that demanded an +answer. Nehushta regretted within herself that she had let him +speak--but for all the world she could not have given up the possession +of the words he had spoken. She covered her eyes with one hand and +remained silent--for she could say nothing. A new emotion had got +possession of her, and seemed to close her lips. + +"You are silent," continued the king. "You are right. What should you +answer me? My voice sounds like the raving of a madman, chained by a +chain that he cannot break. If I had the strength of the mountains, I +could not move you. I know it. All things I have but this--this love of +yours that you have given to another. I would I had it! I should have +the strength to surpass the deeds of men, had I your love! Who is this +whom you love? A captain? A warrior? I tell you because you have so +honoured him, so raised him upon the throne of your heart, I will honour +him too, and I will raise him above all men, and all the nation shall +bow before him. I will make a decree that he shall be worshipped as a +god--this man whom you have made a god of by your love. I will build a +great temple for you two, and I will go up with all the people, and fall +down and bow before you, and worship you, and love you with every sinew +and bone of my body, and with every hope and joy and sorrow of my soul. +He whom you love shall ask, and whatsoever he asks I will give to him +and to you. There shall not be anything left in the whole world that you +desire, but I will give it to you. Am I not the king of the whole +earth--the king of all living things but you?" + +Darius breathed savagely hard through his clenched teeth, and rising +suddenly, paced the pavement between Nehushta and the fountain. She was +silent still, overcome with a sort of terror at his words--words, every +one of which he was able to fulfil, if he so chose. Presently he stood +still before her. + +"Said I not well, that I rave as a madman--that I speak as a fool +without understanding? What can I give you that you want? Or what thing +can I devise that you have need of? Have you not all that the world +holds for mortal woman and living man? Do you not love, and are you not +loved in return? Have you not all--all--all? Ah! woe is me that I am +lord over the nations, and have not a drop of the waters of peace +wherewith to quench the thirst of my tormented soul! Woe is me that I +rule the world and trample the whole earth beneath my feet, and cannot +have the one thing that all the earth holds which is good! Woe is me, +Nehushta, that you have cruelly stolen my peace from me, and I find it +not--nor shall find it for evermore!" + +The strong dark man stood wringing his hands together; his face was pale +as the dead, his black eyes were blazing with a mad fire. Nehushta dared +not look on the tempest she had roused, but she trembled and clasped her +hands to her breast and looked down. + +"Nay, you are right," he cried bitterly. "Answer me nothing, for you can +have nothing to answer! Is it your fault that I am mad? Or is it your +doing that I love you so? Has any one sinned in this? I have seen you--I +saw you for a brief moment standing in the door of your tent--and +seeing, I loved you, and love you, and shall love you till the heavens +are rolled together and the scroll of all death is full! There is +nothing, nothing that you can say or do. It is not your fault--it is not +your sin; but it is by you and through you that I am undone,--broken as +the tree in the storm of the mountains, burned up and parched as the +beast perishing in the sun of the desert for lack of water, torn asunder +and rent into pieces as the rope that breaks at the well! By you, and +for you, and through you, I am ruined and lost--lost--lost for ever in +the hell of my wretched greatness, in the immeasurable death of my own +horrible despair!" + +With a wild movement of agony, Darius fell at Nehushta's feet, prostrate +upon the marble floor, and buried his face in the skirts of her mantle, +utterly over-mastered and broken down by the tumult of his passion. + +Nehushta was not heartless. Of a certainty she would have pitied any one +in such distress and grief, even had the cause thereof come less near to +herself. But, in all the sudden emotion she felt, the pity, the fear, +and the self-reproach, there was joined a vague feeling that no man ever +spoke as this man, that no lover ever poured forth such abundant love +before, and in the dim suspicion of something greater than she had ever +known, her fear and her pity grew stronger, and strove with each other. + +At first she could not speak, but she put forth her delicate hand and +laid it tenderly on the king's thick black hair, as gently as a mother +might soothe a passionate child; and he suffered it to rest there. And +presently she raised his head and laid it in her lap, and smoothed his +forehead with her soft fingers, and spoke to him. + +"You make me very sad," she almost whispered. "I would that you might be +loved as you deserve love--that one more worthy than I might give you +all I cannot give." + +He opened his dark eyes that were now dull and weary, and he looked up +to her face. + +"There is none more worthy than you," he answered in low and broken +tones. + +"Hush," she said gently, "there are many. Will you forgive me--and +forget me? Will you blot out this hour from your remembrance, and go +forth and do those great and noble deeds which you came into the world +to perform? There is none greater than you, none nobler, none more +generous." + +Darius lifted his head from her knee, and sprang to his feet. + +"I will do all things, but I will not forget," he said. "I will do the +great and the good deeds,--for you. I will be generous, for you; noble, +for you; while the world lasts my deeds shall endure; and with them, the +memory that they were done for you! Grant me only one little thing." + +"Ask anything--everything," answered Nehushta, in troubled tones. + +"Nehushta, you know how truly I love you--nay, I will not be mad again; +fear not! Tell me this--tell me that if you had not loved Zoroaster, you +would have loved me." + +Nehushta blushed deeply and then turned pale. She rose to her feet, and +took the king's outstretched hands. + +"Indeed, indeed, you are most worthy of love--Darius, I could have loved +you well." Her voice was very low, and the tears stood in her eyes. + +"The grace of the All-Wise God bless thee!" cried the king, and it was +as though a sudden bright light shone upon his face. Then he kissed her +two hands fervently, and with one long look into her sorrowful eyes, he +turned and left her. + +But no man saw the king that day, nor did any know where he was, saving +the two spearmen who stood at the door of his chamber. Within, he lay +upon his couch, dry-eyed and stark, staring at the painted carvings of +the ceiling. + + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + + +The time passed, and it was eleven days since Zoroaster had set out. The +king and Nehushta had continued to meet in the garden as before, and +neither had ever referred to the day when the torrent of his heart had +been suddenly let loose. The hours sped quietly and swiftly, without any +event of importance. Only the strange bond, half friendship and half +love, had grown stronger than before; and Nehushta wondered how it was +that she could love two men so well, and yet so differently. Indeed they +were very different men. She loved Zoroaster, and yet it sometimes +seemed as though he would more properly have filled the place of a +friend than of a lover. Darius she had accepted as her friend, but there +were moments when she almost forgot that he was not something more. She +tried to think of her meeting with Zoroaster, whether it would be like +former meetings,--whether her heart would beat more strongly, or not +beat at all when her lips touched his as of old. Her judgment was +utterly disturbed and her heart no longer knew itself. She gave herself +over to the pleasure of the king's society in the abandonment of the +moment, half foreseeing that some great change was at hand, over which +she could exercise no control. + +The sun was just risen, but the bridge over the quickly flowing Choaspes +was still in the shadow cast over the plain by the fortress and the +palace, when two horsemen appeared upon the road from Nineveh, riding +at full gallop, and, emerging from the blue mist that still lay over the +meadows, crossed the bridge and continued at full speed towards the +ascent to the palace. + +The one rider was a dark, ill-favoured man, whose pale flaccid cheeks +and drooping form betrayed the utmost fatigue. A bolster was bound +across the withers of his horse and another on the croup, so that he sat +as in a sort of chair, but he seemed hardly able to support himself even +with this artificial assistance, and his body swayed from side to side +as his horse bounded over the sharp curve at the foot of the hill. His +mantle was white with dust, and the tiara upon his head was reduced to a +shapeless and dusty piece of crumpled linen, while his uncurled hair and +tangled beard hung forward together in disorderly and dust-clotted +ringlets. + +His companion was Zoroaster, fair and erect upon his horse, as though he +had not ridden three hundred farsangs in eleven days. There was dust +indeed upon his mantle and garments, as upon those of the man he +conducted, but his long fair hair and beard blew back from his face as +he held his head erect to the breeze he made in riding, and the light +steel cap was bright and burnished on his forehead. A slight flush +reddened his pale cheeks as he looked upward to the palace, and thought +that his ride was over and his errand accomplished. He was weary, almost +to death; but his frame was elastic and erect still. + +As they rode up the steep, the guards at the outer gate, who had already +watched them for twenty minutes as they came up the road, mere moving +specks under the white mist, shouted to those within that Zoroaster was +returning, and the officer of the gate went at once to announce his +coming to the king. Darius himself received the message, and followed +the officer down the steps to the tower of the gateway, reaching the +open space within, just as the two riders galloped under the square +entrance and drew rein upon the pavement of the little court. The +spearmen sprang to their feet and filed into rank as the cry came down +the steps that the king was approaching, and Zoroaster leaped lightly +from his horse, and bid Phraortes do likewise; but the wretched Median +could scarce move hand or foot without help, and would have fallen +headlong, had not two stout spearmen lifted him to the ground, and held +him upon his legs. + +Darius marched quickly up to the pair and stood still, while Zoroaster +made his brief salutation. Phraortes, who between deadly fatigue and +deadly fear of his life, had no strength left in him, fell forward upon +his knees as the two soldiers relaxed their hold upon his arms. + +"Hail, king of kings! Live for ever!" said Zoroaster. "I have fulfilled +thy bidding. He is alive." + +Darius laughed grimly as he eyed the prostrate figure of the Median. + +"Thou art a faithful servant, Zoroaster," he answered, "and thou ridest +as the furies that pursue the souls of the wicked--as the devils of the +mountains after a liar. He would not have lasted much farther, this +bundle of sweating dust. Get up, fellow!" he said, touching Phraortes's +head with his toe. "Thou liest grovelling there like a swine in a +ditch." + +The soldiers raised the exhausted man to his feet. The king turned to +Zoroaster. + +"Tell me, thou rider of whirlwinds," he said, laughing, "will a man more +readily tell the truth, or speak lies, when he is tired?" + +"A man who is tired will do whichever will procure him rest," returned +Zoroaster, with a smile. + +"Then I will tell this fellow that the sooner he speaks the truth the +sooner he may sleep," said the king. Going near to Zoroaster, he added +in an undertone: "Before thou thyself restest, go and tell the queen +privately that she send away her slaves, and await me and him thou hast +brought in a few minutes. This fellow must have a little refreshment, or +he will die upon the steps." + +Zoroaster turned and went up the broad stairs, and threaded the courts +and passages, and mounted to the terrace where he had first met Atossa +before the king's apartments. There was no one there, and he was about +to enter under the great curtain, when the queen herself came out and +met him face to face. Though it was yet very early, she was attired with +more than usual care, and the faint colours of her dress and the few +ornaments she wore, shone and gleamed brightly in the level beams of the +morning sun. She had guessed that Zoroaster would return that day, and +she was prepared for him. + +As she came suddenly upon him, she gave a little cry, that might well +have been feigned. + +"What! Are you already returned?" she asked, and the joy her voice +expressed was genuine. He looked so godlike as he stood there in the +sunlight--her heart leaped for joy of only seeing him. + +"Yes--I bear this message from the Great King to the queen. The Great +King commands that the queen send away her slaves, and await the king +and him I have brought with me, in the space of a few minutes." + +"It is well," answered Atossa, "There are no slaves here and I await the +king." She was silent a moment. "Are you not glad to have come back?" +she asked, presently. + +"Yes," said Zoroaster, whose face brightened quickly as he spoke. "I am +indeed glad to be here again. Would not any one be glad to have finished +such a journey?" + +The queen stood with her back to the curtained doorway and could see +down the whole length of the balcony to the head of the staircase. +Zoroaster faced her and the door. As he spoke, Atossa's quick eyes +caught sight of a figure coming quickly up the last steps of the +stairway. She recognised Nehushta instantly, but no trembling of her +lids or colouring of her cheek, betrayed that she had seen the approach +of her enemy. She fixed her deep-blue eyes upon Zoroaster's, and gazing +somewhat sadly, she spoke in low and gentle tones: + +"The time has seemed long to me since you rode away, Zoroaster," she +said. + +Zoroaster, astonished at the manner in which she spoke, turned pale, and +looked down coldly at her beautiful face. At that moment Nehushta +stepped upon the smooth marble pavement of the balcony. + +Still Atossa kept her eyes fixed on Zoroaster's. + +"You answer me nothing?" she said in broken tones. Then suddenly, as +though acting under an irresistible impulse, she threw her arms wildly +about his neck and kissed him passionately again and again. + +"Oh Zoroaster, Zoroaster, my beloved!" she cried, "you must never, never +leave me again!" And again she kissed him, and fell forward upon his +breast, holding him so tightly that, for a moment, he did not know which +way to move. He put his hands upon her shoulders, to her waist--to try +to push her from him. But it was in vain; she clung to him desperately +and sobbed upon his breast. + +In the sudden and fearful embarrassment in which he was placed, he did +not hear a short, low groan far off behind him, nor the sound of quickly +retreating steps upon the stairs. But Atossa heard and rejoiced +fiercely; and when she looked up, Nehushta was gone, with the incurable +wound in her breast. + +Atossa suddenly let her arms fall from the warrior's neck, looked into +his eyes once, and then, with a short, sharp cry, she buried her face in +her hands and leaned back against the door-post by the heavy striped +curtain. + +"Oh, my God! What have I done?" she moaned. + +Zoroaster stood for one moment in hesitation and doubt. It seemed as +though he had received a sudden revelation of numberless things he had +never understood. He spoke quietly, at last, with a great effort, and +his voice sounded kindly. + +"I thank the good powers that I do not love thee--and I would that thou +didst not love me. For I am the Great King's servant, faithful to +death--and if I loved thee I should be a liar, and a coward, and the +basest of all mankind. Forget, I pray thee, that thou hast spoken, and +let me depart in peace. For the Great King is at hand, and thou must not +suffer that he find thee weeping, lest he think thou fearest to meet +Phraortes the Median face to face. Forget, I pray thee--and forgive thy +servant if he have done anything amiss." + +Atossa looked up suddenly. Her eyes were bright and clear, and there was +not a trace of tears in them. She laughed harshly. + +"I--weep before the king! You do not know me. Go, if thou wilt. +Farewell, Zoroaster,"--her voice softened a little,--"farewell. It may +be that you shall live, but it may be that you shall die, because I love +you." + +Zoroaster bent his head in respectful homage, and turned and went his +way. The queen looked after him, and as he disappeared upon the +staircase, she began to smooth her head-dress and the locks of her +golden hair, and for a moment, she smiled sweetly to herself. + +"That was a mortal wound, well dealt," she said aloud. But as she gazed +out over the city, her face grew grave and thoughtful. "But I do love +him," she added softly, "I do--I do--I loved him long ago." She turned +quickly, as though fearing some one had overheard her. "How foolish I +am!" she exclaimed impatiently; and she turned and passed away under the +heavy curtain, leaving the long balcony once more empty,--save for the +rush of a swallow that now and then flew in between the pillars, and +hovered for a moment high up by the cornice, and sped out again into the +golden sunshine of the summer morning. + +Zoroaster left Atossa with the hope of finding some means of seeing +Nehushta. But it was impossible. He knew well that he could not so far +presume as to go to her apartment by the lower passage where he had last +seen her on the day of his departure for Ecbatana, and the slave whom he +despatched from the main entrance of the women's part of the palace +returned with the brief information that Nehushta was alone in her +chamber, and that no one dared disturb her. + +Worn out with fatigue and excitement, and scarcely able to think +connectedly upon the strange event of the morning, Zoroaster wearily +resigned himself to seeing Nehushta at a later hour, and entering his +own cool chamber, lay down to rest. It was evening when he awoke. + +Meanwhile the king commanded that Phraortes should be fed and refreshed, +and immediately brought to the queen's apartment. Half an hour after +Zoroaster had left her, Atossa was in the chamber which was devoted to +her toilet. She sat alone before her great silver mirror, calmly +awaiting the turn of events. Some instinct had told her that she would +feel stronger to resist an attack in the sanctuary of her small inner +room, where every object was impregnated with her atmosphere, and where +the lattices of the two windows were so disposed that she would be able +to see the expression of her adversaries without exposing her own face +to the light. + +She leaned forward and looked closely at herself in the glass, and with +a delicate brush of camel's hair smoothed one eyebrow that was a little +ruffled. It had touched Zoroaster's tunic when she threw herself upon +his breast; she looked at herself with a genuine artistic pleasure, and +smiled. + +Before long she heard the sound of leathern shoes upon the pavement +outside, and the curtain was suddenly lifted. Darius pushed Phraortes +into the room by the shoulders and made him stand before the queen. She +rose and made a salutation, and then sat down again in her carved chair. +The king threw himself upon a heap of thick, hard cushions that formed a +divan on one side of the room, and prepared to watch attentively the two +persons before him. + +Phraortes, trembling with fear and excessive fatigue, fell upon his +knees before Atossa, and touched the floor with his forehead. + +"Get upon thy feet, man," said the king shortly, "and render an account +of the queen's affairs." + +"Stay," said Atossa, calmly; "for what purpose has the Great King +brought this man before me?" + +"For my pleasure," answered Darius. "Speak fellow! Render thy account, +and if I like not the manner of thy counting, I will crucify thee." + +"The king liveth for ever," said Phraortes feebly, his flaccid cheeks +trembling, as his limbs moved uneasily. + +"The queen also liveth for ever," remarked Darius. "What is the state +of the queen's lands at Ecbatana?" + +At this question Phraortes seemed to take courage, and began a rapid +enumeration of the goods, cattle and slaves. + +"This year I have sown two thousand acres of wheat which will soon be +ripe for the harvest. I have sown also a thousand acres with other +grain. The fields of water-melons are yielding with amazing abundance +since I caused the great ditches to be dug last winter towards the road. +As for the fruit trees and the vinelands, they are prospering; but at +present we have not had rain to push the first budding of the grapes. +The olives will doubtless be very abundant this year, for last year +there were few, as is the manner with that fruit. As for the yielding of +these harvests of grain and wine and oil and fruit, I doubt not that the +whole sales will amount to an hundred talents of gold." + +"Last year they only yielded eighty-five," remarked the queen, who had +affected to listen to the whole account with the greatest interest. "I +am well pleased, Phraortes. Tell me of the cattle and sheep--and of the +slaves; whether many have died this year." + +"There are five hundred head of cattle, and one hundred calves dropped +in the last two months. From the scarcity of rain this year, the fodder +has been almost destroyed, and there is little hay from the winter. I +have, therefore, sent great numbers of slaves with camels to the farther +plains to eastward, whence they return daily with great loads of hay--of +a coarse kind, but serviceable. As for the flocks, they are now +pasturing for the summer upon the slopes of the Zagros mountains. There +were six thousand head of sheep and two thousand head of goats at the +shearing in the spring, and the wool is already sold for eight talents. +As for the slaves, I have provided for them after a new fashion. There +were many young men from the captives that came after the war two years +ago. For these I have purchased wives of the dealers from Scythia. These +Scythians sell all their women at a low price. They are hideous +barbarians, speaking a strange tongue, but they are very strong and +enduring, and I doubt not they will multiply exceedingly and bring large +profits--" + +"Thou art extraordinarily fluent in thy speech," interrupted the king. +"But there are details that the queen wishes to know. Thou art aware +that in a frontier country like the province of Ecbatana, it is often +necessary to protect the crops and the flocks from robbers. Hast thou +therefore thought of arming any of these slaves for this purpose?" + +"Let not the king be angry with his servant," returned Phraortes, +without hesitation. "There are many thousand soldiers of the king in +Echatana, and the horsemen traverse the country continually. I have not +armed any of the slaves, for I supposed we were safe in the protection +of the king's men. Nevertheless, if the Great King command me--" + +"Thou couldst arm them immediately, I suppose?" interrupted Darius. He +watched Atossa narrowly; her face was in the shadow. + +"Nay," replied Phraortes, "for we have no arms. But if the king will +give us swords and spearheads--" + +"To what end?" asked Atossa. She was perfectly calm since she saw that +there was no fear of Phraortes making a mistake upon this vital point. +"What need have I of a force to protect lands that are all within a +day's journey of the king's fortress? The idea of carrying weapons would +make all the slaves idle and quarrelsome. Leave them their spades and +their ploughs, and let them labour while the soldiers fight. How many +slaves have I now, Phraortes?" + +"There were, at the last return, fourteen thousand seven hundred and +fifty-three men, ten thousand two hundred and sixteen women, and not +less than five thousand children. But I expect--" + +"What can you do with so many?" asked Darius, turning sharply to the +queen. + +"Many of them work in the carpet-looms," answered Phraortes. "The queen +receives fifty talents yearly from the sales of the carpets." + +"All the carpets in the king's apartments are made in my looms," said +Atossa, with a smile. "I am a great merchant." + +"I have no doubt I paid you dearly enough for them, too," said the king, +who was beginning to be weary of the examination. He had firmly expected +that either the Median agent, or the queen herself, would betray some +emotion at the mention of arming the slaves, for he imagined that if +Atossa had really planned any outbreak, she would undoubtedly have +employed the large force of men she had at her disposal, by finding them +weapons and promising them their liberty in the event of success. + +He was disappointed at the appearance of the man Phraortes. He had +supposed him a strong, determined, man of imperious ways and turbulent +instincts, who could be easily led into revolution and sedition from the +side of his ambition. He saw before him the traditional cunning, +quick-witted merchant of Media, pale-faced and easily frightened; no +more capable of a daring stroke of usurpation than a Jewish pedlar of +Babylon. He was evidently a mere tool in the hands of the queen; and +Darius stamped impatiently upon the floor when he thought that he had +perhaps been deceived after all--that the queen had really written to +Phraortes simply on account of her property, and that there was no +revolution at all to be feared. Impulsive to the last degree, when the +king had read the letter to Phraortes, his first thought had been to see +the man for himself, to ask him a few questions and to put him at once +to death if he found him untruthful. The man had arrived, broken with +excessive fatigue and weak from the fearful journey; but under the very +eye of the king, he had nevertheless given a clear and concise account +of himself; and, though he betrayed considerable fear, he gave no reason +for supposing that what he said was not true. As for the queen, she sat +calmly by, polishing her nails with a small instrument of ivory, +occasionally asking a question, or making a remark, as though it were +all the most natural occurrence in the world. + +Darius was impetuous and fierce. His intuitive decisions were generally +right, and he acted upon them instantly, without hesitation; but he had +no cunning and little strategy. He was always for doing and never for +waiting; and to the extreme rapidity of his movements he owed the +success he had. In the first three years of his reign he fought nineteen +battles and vanquished nine self-styled kings; but he never, on any +occasion, detected a conspiracy, nor destroyed a revolution before it +had broken out openly. He was often, therefore, at the mercy of Atossa +and frequently found himself baffled by her power of concealing a subtle +lie under the letter of truth, and by her supreme indifference and +coldness of manner under the most trying circumstances. In his simple +judgment it was absolutely impossible for any one to lie directly +without betraying some hesitation, and each time he endeavoured to place +Atossa in some difficult position, when she must, he thought, inevitably +betray herself, he was met by her inexplicable calm; which he was forced +to attribute to the fact that she was in the right--no matter how the +evidence might be against her. + +The king decided that he had made a mistake in the present instance and +that Phraortes was innocent of any idea of revolution. He could not +conceive how such a man should be capable of executing a daring stroke +of policy. He determined to let him go. + +"You ought to be well satisfied with the result of these accounts," he +said, staring hard at Atossa. "You see you know more of your affairs, +and sooner, than you could have known if you had sent your letter. Let +this fellow go, and tell him to send his accounts regularly in future, +or he will have the pains of riding hither in haste to deliver them. +Thou mayest go now and take thy rest," he added, rising and pushing the +willing Phraortes before him out of the room. + +"Thou hast done well. I am satisfied with thee, Phraortes," said Atossa +coldly. + +Once more the beautiful queen was left alone, and once more she looked +at herself in the silver mirror, somewhat more critically than before. +It seemed to her as she gazed and turned first one side of her face to +the light and then the other, that she was a shade paler than usual. The +change would have been imperceptible to any one else, but she noticed it +with a little frown of disapproval. But presently she smoothed her brow +and smiled happily to herself. She had sustained a terrible danger +successfully. + +She had hoped to have been able to warn Phraortes how to act; but, +partly because the meeting had taken place so soon after his arrival, +and partly because she had employed a portion of that brief interval +with Zoroaster and in the scene she had suddenly invented and acted, she +had been obliged to meet her chief agent without a moment's preparation, +and she knew enough of his cowardly character to fear lest he should +betray her and throw himself upon the king's mercy as a reward for the +information he could give. But the crucial moment had passed +successfully and there was nothing more to fear. Atossa threw herself +upon the couch where the king had sat, and abandoned herself to the +delicious contemplation of the pain she must have given in showing +herself to Nehushta in Zoroaster's arms. She was sure that as the +princess could not have seen Zoroaster's face, she must have thought +that it was he who was embracing the queen. She must have suffered +horribly, if she really loved him! + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +When Darius left the queen, he gave over the miserable Phraortes to the +guards, to be cared for, and bent his steps towards the gardens. It was +yet early, but he wished to be alone, and he supposed that Nehushta +would come there before noon, as was her wont. Meanwhile, he wished to +be free of the court and of the queen. Slowly he entered the marble gate +and walked up the long walk of roses, plucking a leaf now and then, and +twisting it in his fingers, scenting the fresh blossoms with an almost +boyish gladness, and breathing in all the sweet warmth of the summer +morning. He had made a mistake, and he was glad to be away, where he +could calmly reflect upon the reason of his being deceived. + +He wandered on until he came to the marble pavilion, and would have gone +on to stray farther into the gardens, but that he caught sight of a +woman's mantle upon the floor as he passed by the open doorway. He went +up the few steps and entered. + +Nehushta lay upon the marble pavement at her full length, her arms +extended above her head. Her face was ghastly pale and her parted lips +were white. She looked as one dead. Her white linen tiara had almost +fallen from her heavy hair, and the long black locks streamed upon the +stone in thick confusion. Her fingers were tightly clenched, and on her +face was such an expression of agony, as Darius had never dreamed of, +nor seen in those dead in battle. + +The king started back in horror as he caught sight of the prostrate +figure. He thought she was dead--murdered, perhaps--until, as he gazed, +he saw a faint movement of breathing. Then he sprang forward, and +kneeled, and raised her head upon his knee, and chafed her temples and +her hands. He could reach the little fountain as he knelt, and he +gathered some water in his palm and sprinkled it upon her face. + +At last she opened her eyes--then closed them wearily again--then opened +them once more in quick astonishment, and recognised the king. She would +have made an effort to rise, but he checked her, and she let her head +sink back upon his knee. Still he chafed her temples with his broad, +brown hand, and gazed with anxious tenderness into her eyes, that looked +at him for a moment, and then wandered and then looked again. + +"What is this?" she asked, vacantly, at last. + +"I know not," answered the king. "I found you here--lying upon the +floor. Are you hurt?" he asked tenderly. + +"Hurt? No--yes, I am hurt--hurt even to death," she added suddenly. "Oh, +Darius, I would I could tell you! Are you really my friend?" + +She raised herself without his help and sat up. The hot blood rushed +back to her cheeks and her eyes regained their light. + +"Can you doubt that I am your friend, your best friend?" asked the king. + +Nehushta rose to her feet and paced the little hall in great emotion. +Her hands played nervously with the golden tassels of her mantle, her +head-dress had fallen quite back upon her shoulders, and the masses of +her hair were let loose. From time to time she glanced at the king, who +eyed her anxiously as he stood beside the fountain. + +Presently she stopped before him, and very gravely fixed her eyes on +him. + +"I will tell you something," she said, beginning in low tones. "I will +tell you this--I cannot tell you all. I have been horribly deceived, +betrayed, made a sport of. I cannot tell you how--you will believe me, +will you not? This man I loved--I love him not--has cast me off as an +old garment, as a thing of no price--as a shoe that is worn out and that +is not fit for his feet to tread upon. I love him not--I hate him--oh, I +love him not at all!" + +Darius's face grew dark and his teeth ground hard together, but he stood +still, awaiting what she should say. But Nehushta ceased, and suddenly +she began again to walk up and down, putting her hand to her temples, as +though in pain. Once more she paused, and, in her great emotion laid her +two hands upon the shoulder of the king, who trembled at her touch, as +though a strong man had struck him. + +"You said you loved me, once," said Nehushta, in short, nervous tones, +almost under her breath. "Do you love me still?" + +"Is it so long since I told you I loved you?" asked Darius, with a shade +of bitterness. "Ah! do not tempt me--do not stir my sickness. Love you? +Yea--as the earth loves the sun--as man never loved woman. Love you? Ay! +I love you, and I am the most miserable of men." He shook from head to +foot with strong emotion, and the stern lines of his face darkened as he +went on speaking. "Yet, though I love you so, I cannot harm him,--for my +great oath's sake I cannot--yet for you, almost I could. Ah Nehushta, +Nehushta!" he cried passionately, "tempt me not! Ask me not this, for +you can almost make a liar of the Great King if you will!" + +"I tempt you not," answered the princess. "I will not that you harm a +hair of his head. He is not worthy that you should lift the least of +your fingers to slay him. But this I tell you--" she hesitated. The king +in his violent excitement, as though foreseeing what she would say, +seized her hands and held them tightly while he gazed into her eyes. + +"Darius," she said, almost hurriedly, "if you love me, and if you desire +it, I will be your wife." + +A wild light broke from the king's eyes. He dropped her hands and +stepped backwards from her, staring hard. Then, with, a quick motion, he +turned and threw himself upon the marble seat that ran around the hall, +and buried his face and sobbed aloud. + +Nehushta seemed to regain some of her calmness, when once she had said +the fatal words. She went and knelt beside him and smoothed his brow and +wild, rough hair. The great tears stained his dark cheek. He raised +himself and looked at her and put one arm about her neck. + +"Nehushta," he whispered, "is it true?" + +She bowed her head silently. Darius drew her towards him and laid her +cheek upon his breast. His face bent down to hers, most tenderly, as +though he would have kissed her. But suddenly he drew back, and turned +his eyes away. + +"No," he said, as though he had regained the mastery over himself. "It +is too much to ask--that I might kiss you! It is too much--too +much--that you give me. I am not worthy that you should be my wife. +Nay!" he cried, as she would not let him rise from his seat. "Nay, let +me go, it is not right--it is not worthy--I must not see you any more. +Oh, you have tempted me till I am too weak--" + +"Darius, you are the noblest of men, the best and bravest." Then with a +sudden impulse it seemed to Nehushta that she really loved him. The +majestic strength of Zoroaster seemed cold and meaningless beside the +fervour of the brave young king, striving so hard to do right under the +sorest temptation, striving to leave her free, even against her will. +For the moment she loved him, as such women do, with a passionate +impulse. She put her arms about him and drew him down to her. + +"Darius, it is truth--I never loved you, but I love you now, for, of all +living men, you have the bravest heart." She pressed a kiss hotly upon +his forehead and her head sank upon his shoulder. For one moment the +king trembled, and then, as though all resistance were gone from him, +his arms went round her, locking with hers that held him, and he kissed +her passionately. + +When Zoroaster awoke from his long sleep it was night. He had dreamed +evil dreams, and he woke with a sense of some great disaster impending. +He heard unwonted sounds in the hall outside his chamber, and he sprang +to his feet and called one of the soldiers of his guard. + +"What is happening?" asked Zoroaster quickly. + +"The Great King, who lives for ever, has taken a new wife to-day," +answered the soldier, standing erect, but eyeing Zoroaster somewhat +curiously. Zoroaster's heart sank within him. + +"What? Who is she?" he asked, coming nearer to the man. + +"The new queen is Nehushta--the Hebrew princess," answered the spearman. +"There is a great banquet, and a feast for the guard, and much food and +wine for the slaves--" + +"It is well," answered Zoroaster. "Go thou, and feast with the rest." + +The man saluted, and left the room. Zoroaster remained standing alone, +his teeth chattering together and his strong limbs shaking beneath him. +But he abandoned himself to no frenzy of grief, nor weeping; one seeing +him would have said he was sick of a fever. His blue eyes stared hard at +the lamp-light and his face was white, but he did not so much as utter +an exclamation, nor give one groan. He went and sat down upon a chair +and folded his hands together, as though waiting for some event. But +nothing happened; no one came to disturb him in his solitude, though he +could hear the tramping feet and the unceasing talk of the slaves and +soldiers without. In the vast palace, where thousands dwelt, where all +were feasting or talking of the coming banquet, Zoroaster was utterly +alone. + +At last he rose, slowly, as though with an effort, and paced twice from +one end of the room to the other. Upon a low shelf on one side, his +garments were folded together, while his burnished cuirass and helmet +and other arms which he had not worn upon his rapid journey to Ecbatana, +hung upon nails in the wall above. He looked at all these things and +turned the clothes over piece by piece, till he had found a great dark +mantle and a black hood such as was worn in Media. These he put on, and +beneath the cloak he girded a broad, sharp knife about him. Then +wrapping himself closely round with the dark-coloured stuff and drawing +the hood over his eyes, he lifted the curtain of his door and went out, +without casting a look behind him. + +In the crowd of slaves he passed unnoticed; for the hall was but dimly +lighted by a few torches, and every one's attention was upon the doings +of the day and the coming feast. + +Zoroaster soon gathered from the words he heard spoken, that the banquet +had not yet begun, and he hastened to the columned porch through which +the royal party must pass on the way to the great hall which formed the +centre of the main building. Files of spearmen, in their bronze +breastplates and scarlet and blue mantles, lined the way, which was +strewn with yellow sand and myrtle leaves and roses. At every pillar +stood a huge bronze candlestick, in which a torch of wax and fir-gum +burned, and flared, and sent up a cloud of half pungent, half aromatic +smoke. Throngs of slaves and soldiers pressed close behind the lines of +spearmen, elbowing each other with loud jests and surly complaints, to +get a better place, a sea of moving, shouting, gesticulating humanity. +Zoroaster's great height and broad shoulders enabled him easily to push +to the front, and he stood there, disguised and unknown, peering between +the heads of two of his own soldiers to obtain the first view of the +procession as it came down the broad staircase at the end of the porch. + +Suddenly the blast of deep-toned trumpets was heard in the distance, and +silence fell upon the great multitude. With a rhythmic sway of warlike +tone the clangour rose and fell, and rose again as the trumpeters came +out upon the great staircase and began to descend. After them came other +musicians, whose softer instruments began to be heard in harmony with +the resounding bass of the horns, and then, behind them, came singers, +whose strong, high voices completed the full burst of music that went +before the king. + +With measured tread the procession advanced. There were neither priests, +nor sacrificers, nor any connected with any kind of temple; but after +the singers came two hundred noble children clad in white, bearing long +garlands of flowers that trailed upon the ground, so that many of the +blossoms were torn off and strewed the sand. + +But Zoroaster looked neither on the singers, nor on the children. His +eyes were fixed intently on the two figures that followed them--Darius, +the king, and Nehushta, the bride. They walked side by side, and the +procession left an open spaced ten paces before and ten paces behind +the royal pair. Darius wore the tunic of purple and white stripes, the +mantle of Tyrian purple on his shoulders and upon his head the royal +crown of gold surrounded the linen tiara; his left hand, bare and brown +and soldier-like, rested upon the golden hilt of his sword, and in his +right, as he walked, he carried a long golden rod surmounted by a ball, +twined with myrtle from end to end. He walked proudly forward, and as he +passed, many a spearman thought with pride that the Great King looked as +much a soldier as he himself. + +By his left side came Nehushta, clad entirely in cloth of gold, while a +mantle of the royal purple hung down behind her. Her white linen tiara +was bound round with myrtle and roses, and in her hands she bore a +myrtle bough. + +Her face was pale in the torchlight, but she seemed composed in manner, +and from time to time she glanced at the king with a look which was +certainly not one of aversion. + +Zoroaster felt himself growing as cold as ice as they approached, and +his teeth chattered in his head. His brain reeled with the smoke of the +torches, the powerful, moving tones of the music and the strangeness of +the whole sight. It seemed as though it could not be real. He fixed his +eyes upon Nehushta, but his face was shaded all around by his dark hood. +Nevertheless, so intently did he gaze upon her that, as she came near, +she felt his look, as it were, and, searching in the crowd behind the +soldiers, met his eyes. She must have known it was he, even under the +disguise that hid his features, for, though she walked calmly on, the +angry blood rushed to her face and brow, overspreading her features with +a sudden, dark flush. + +Just as she came up to where Zoroaster stood, he thrust his covered head +far out between the soldiers. His eyes gleamed like coals of blue fire +and his voice came low, with a cold, clear ring, like the blade of a +good sword striking upon a piece of iron. + +"Faithless!" + +That was all he said, but all around heard the cutting tone, that +neither the voices of the singers, nor the clangour of the trumpets +could drown. + +Nehushta drew herself up and paused for one moment, and turned upon the +dark-robed figure a look of such unutterable loathing and scorn as one +would not have deemed could be concentrated in a human face. Then she +passed on. + +The two spearmen turned quickly upon the man between them, who had +uttered the insult against the new queen, and laid hold of him roughly +by the shoulders. A moment more and his life would have been ended by +their swords. But his strong, white hands stole out like lightning, and +seized each soldier by the wrist, and twisted their arms so suddenly and +with such furious strength, that they cried aloud with pain and fell +headlong at his feet. The people parted for a space in awe and wonder, +and Zoroaster turned, with his dark mantle close drawn around him, and +strode out through the gaping crowd. + +"It is a devil of the mountains!" cried one. + +"It is Ahriman himself!" said another. + +"It is the soul of the priest of Bel whom the king slew at Babylon!" + +"It is the Evil Sprit of Cambyses!" + +"Nay," quoth one of the spearmen, rubbing his injured hand, "it was +Zoroaster, the captain. I saw his face beneath that hood he wore." + +"It may be," answered his fellow. "They say he can break a bar of iron, +as thick as a man's three fingers, with his hand. But I believe it was a +devil of the mountains." + +But the procession marched on, and long before the crowd had recovered +enough from its astonishment to give utterance to these surmises, +Zoroaster had passed out of the porch and back through the deserted +courts, and down the wide staircase to the palace gate, and out into the +quiet, starlit night, alone and on foot. + +He would have no compromise with his grief; he would be alone with it. +He needed not mortal sympathy and he would not have the pity of man. The +blow had struck home with deadly certainty and the wound was such as man +cannot heal, neither woman. The fabric of happiness, which in a year he +had built himself, was shattered to its foundation, and the fall of it +was fearful. The ruin of it reached over the whole dominion of his soul +and rent all the palace of his body. The temple that had stood so fair, +whither his heart had gone up to worship his beloved one, was destroyed +and utterly beaten to pieces; and the ruin of it was as a heap of dead +bones, so loathsome in decay, that the eyes of his spirit turned in +horror and disgust from the inward contemplation of so miserable a +sight. + +Alone and on foot, he went upon his dreary way, dry-eyed and calm. There +was nothing left of all his past life that he cared for. His armour hung +in his chamber in the palace and with it he left the Zoroaster he had +known--the strong, the young, the beautiful; the warrior, the lover, the +singer of sweet songs, the smiter of swift blows, the peerless horseman, +the matchless man. He who went out alone into the great night, was a +moving sorrow, a horror of grief made visible as a walking shadow among +things real, a man familiar already with death as with a friend, and +with the angel of death as with a lover. + +Alone--it was a beginning of satisfaction to be away from all the crowd +of known and unknown faces familiar to his life--but the end and +attainment of satisfaction could only come when he should be away from +himself, from the heavy body that wearied him, and from the heavier soul +that was crushed with itself as with a burden. For sorrow was his +companion from that day forth, and grief undying was his counsellor. + +Ah God! She was so beautiful and her love was so sweet and strong! Her +face had been as the face of an angel, and her virgin-heart as the +innermost leaves of the rose that are folded together in the bud before +the rising of the sun. Her kiss was as the breath of spring that +gladdens the earth into new life, her eyes as crystal wells, from the +depths whereof truth rose blushing to the golden light of day. Her lips +were so sweet that a man wondered how they could ever part, till, when +they parted, her gentle breath bore forth the music of her words, that +was sweeter than all created sounds. She was of all earthly women the +most beautiful--the very most lovely thing that God had made; and of all +mortal women that have loved, her love had been the purest, the +gentlest, the truest. There was never woman like to her, nor would be +again. + +And yet--scarce ten days had changed her, had so altered and disturbed +the pure elements of her wondrous nature that she had lied to herself +and lied to her lover the very lie of lies--for what? To wear a piece of +purple of a richer dye than other women wore, to bind her hair with a +bit of gold, to be called a queen--a queen forsooth! when she had been +from her birth up the sovereign queen of all created women! + +The very lie of lies! Was there ever such a monstrous lie since the +world first learned the untruths of the serpent's wisdom? Had she not +sworn and promised, by the holiness of her God, to love Zoroaster for +ever? For ever. O word, that had meant heaven, and now meant hell!--that +had meant joy without any end and peace and all love!--that meant now +only pain eternal, and sorrow, and gnawing torment of a wound that would +never heal! O Death, that yesterday would have seemed Life for her! O +Life, that to-day, by her, was made the Death of deaths! + +Emptiness of emptiness--the whole world one hollow cavern of +vanity--lifeless and lightless, where the ghosts of the sorrows of men +moan dismally, and the shadows of men's griefs scream out their wild +agony upon the ghastly darkness! Night, through which no dawn shall +ever gleam, fleet and fair, to touch with rosy fingers the eyes of a +dead world and give them sight! Winter, of unearthly cold, that through +all the revolving ages of untiring time, shall never see the face of +another spring, nor feel its icy veins thawing with the pulses of a +forgotten life, quickened from within with the thrilling hope of a new +and glorious birth! + +Far out upon the southern plain Zoroaster lay upon the dew-wet ground +and gazed up into the measureless depths of heaven, where the stars +shone out like myriads of jewels set in the dark mantle of night! + +Gradually, as he lay, the tempest of his heart subsided, and the calm of +the vast solitude descended upon him, even as the dew had descended upon +the earth. His temples ceased to throb with the wild pulse that sent +lightnings through his brain at every beat, and from the intensity of +his sorrow, his soul seemed to float upwards to those cool depths of the +outer firmament where no sorrow is. His eyes grew glassy and fixed, and +his body rigid in the night-dews; and his spirit, soaring beyond the +power of earthly forces to weigh down its flight, rose to that lofty +sphere where the morning and the evening are but one eternal day, where +the mighty unison of the heavenly chorus sends up its grand plain-chant +to God Most High. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +Far in the wild mountains of the south, where a primeval race of +shepherds pastures its flocks of shaggy goats upon the scanty vegetation +of rocky slopes, there is a deep gorge whither men seldom penetrate, and +where the rays of the sun fall but for a short hour at noonday. A man +may walk, or rather climb, along the side of the little stream that +rushes impetuously down among the black rocks, for a full hour and a +half before he reaches the end of the narrow valley. Then he will come +upon a sunken place, like a great natural amphitheatre, the steep walls +of boulders rising on all sides to a lofty circle of dark crags. In the +midst of this open space a spring rises suddenly from beneath a mass of +black stone, with a rushing, gurgling sound, and makes a broad pool, +whence the waters flow down in a little torrent through the gorge till +they emerge far below into the fertile plain and empty themselves into +the Araxes, which flows by the towers and palaces of lordly Stakhar, +more than two days' journey from the hidden circle in the mountains. + +It would have been a hard thing to recognise Zoroaster in the man who +sat day after day beside the spring, absorbed in profound meditation. +His tall figure was wasted almost to emaciation by fasting and exposure; +his hair and beard had turned snow-white, and hung down in abundant +masses to his waist, and his fair young face was pale and transparent. +But in his deep blue eyes there was a light different from the light of +other days--the strange calm fire of a sight that looks on wondrous +things, and sees what the eyes of men may not see, and live. + +Nearly three years had passed since he went forth from the palace of +Shushan, to wander southwards in search of a resting-place, and he was +but three-and-thirty years of age. But between him and the past there +was a great gulf--the interval between the man and the prophet, between +the cares of mortality and the divine calm of the higher life. + +From time to time indeed, he ascended the steep path he had made among +the stones and rocks, to the summit of the mountain; and there he met +one of the shepherds of the hills, who brought him once every month a +bag of parched grain and a few small, hard cheeses of goats' milk; and +in return for these scanty provisions, he gave the man each time a link +from the golden chain he had worn and which was still about his neck +when he left the palace. Three-and-thirty links were gone since he had +come there, and the chain was shorter by more than half its length. It +would last until the thousand days were accomplished, and there would +still be much left. Auramazda, the All-Wise, would provide. + +Zoroaster sat by the spring and watched the crystal waters sparkle in +the brief hour of sunshine at noonday, and turn dark and deep again when +the light was gone. He moved not through the long hours of day, sitting +as he had sat in that place now for three years neither scorched by the +short hours of sunlight, nor chilled by winter's frost and snow. The +wild long-haired sheep of the mountain came down to drink at noon, and +timidly gazed with their stupid eyes at the immovable figure; and at +evening the long-bodied, fierce-eyed wolves would steal stealthily among +the rocks and come and snuff the ground about his feet, presently +raising their pointed heads with a long howl of fear, and galloping away +through the dusk in terror, as though at something unearthly. + +And when at last the night was come, Zoroaster arose and went to the +spot where the rocks, overhanging together, left a space through which +one might enter; and the white-haired man gave one long look at the +stars overhead, and disappeared within. + +There was a vast cave, the roof reaching high up in a great vault; the +sides black and polished, as though smoothed by the hands of cunning +workmen; the floor a bed of soft, black sand, dry and even as the +untrodden desert. In the midst, a boulder of black rock lay like a huge +ball, and upon its summit burned a fire that was never quenched, and +that needed no replenishing with fuel. The tall pointed flame shed a +strangely white light around, that flashed and sparkled upon the smooth +black walls of the cavern, as though they were mirrors. The flame also +was immovable; it neither flickered, nor rose, nor fell; but stood as it +were a spear-head of incandescent gold upon the centre of the dark +altar. There was no smoke from that strange fire, nor any heat near it, +as from other fires. + +Then Zoroaster bent and put forth his forefinger and traced a figure +upon the sand, which was like a circle, save that it was cut from +north-west to south-east by two straight lines; and from north-east to +south-west by two straight lines; and at each of the four small arcs, +where the straight lines cut the circumference of the great circle, a +part of a smaller circle outside the great one united the points over +each other. And upon the east side, toward the altar, the great circle +was not joined, but open for a short distance.[5] + + [Footnote 5: The Mazdayashnian Dakhma, or place of death. This + figure represents the ground-plan of the modern Parsi Tower of + Silence.] + +When the figure was traced, Zoroaster came out from it and touched the +black rock whereon the fire burned; and then he turned back and entered +the circle, and with his fingers joined it where it was open on the east +side through which he had entered. And immediately, as the circle was +completed, there sprung up over the whole line he had traced a soft +light; like that of the fire, but less strong. Then Zoroaster lay down +upon his back, with his feet to the west and his head toward the altar, +and he folded his hands upon his breast and closed his eyes. As he lay, +his body became rigid and his face as the face of the dead; and his +spirit was loosed in the trance and freed from the bonds of earth, while +his limbs rested. + +Lying there, separated from the world, cut off within the circle of a +symbolised death by the light of the universal agent,[6] Zoroaster +dreamed dreams and saw visions. + + [Footnote 6: The term "universal agent" has been used in the + mysticism of ages, to designate that subtle and all-pervading + fluid, of which the phenomena of light, heat, electricity and + vitality are considered to be but the grosser and more palpable + manifestations.] + +His mind was first opened to the understanding of those broader +conceptions of space and time of which he had read in the books of +Daniel, his master. He had understood the principles then, but he had +not realised their truth. He was too intimately connected with the life +around him, to be able to see in the clearer light which penetrates with +universal truth all the base forms of perishable matter. + +Daniel had taught him the first great principles. All men, in their +ignorance, speak of the infinities of space and time as being those +ideas which man cannot of himself grasp or understand. Man, they say, is +limited in capacity; he can, therefore, not comprehend the infinite. A +greater fault than this could not be committed by a thinking being. For +infinity being unending, it is incapable of being limited; it rejects +definition, which belongs, by its nature, to finite things. For +definition means the placing of bounds, and that which is infinite can +have no bounds. The man, therefore, who seeks to bound what has no +bounds, endeavours to define what is, by its nature, undefinable; and +finding that the one poor means which he has of conveying fallacious +impressions of illusory things to his mind through his deadened senses, +is utterly insufficient to give him an idea of what alone is real, he +takes refuge in his crass ignorance and coarse grossness of language, +and asserts boldly that the human mind is too limited in its nature to +conceive of infinite space, or of infinite time. + +Not only is the untrammelled mind of man capable of these bolder +conceptions, but even the wretched fool who sees in the material world +the whole of what man can know, could never get so far as to think even +of the delusive objects on which he pins his foolish faith, unless the +very mind which he insults and misunderstands, had by its nature that +infinite capacity of comprehension which, he says, exists not. For +otherwise, if the mind be limited, there must be a definite limit to its +comprehensive faculty, and it is easy to conceive that such a limit +would soon become apparent to every student; as apparent as it is that a +being, confined within three dimensions of space, cannot, without +altering his nature, escape from these three dimensions, nor from the +laws which govern matter having length, breadth and thickness alone, +without the external fourth dimension, with its interchangeability of +exterior and interior angles. + +The very thought that infinite space cannot be understood, is itself a +proof that the mind unconsciously realises the precise nature of such +infinity, in attributing to it at once the all-comprehensiveness from +which there is no escape, in which all dimensions exist, and by virtue +of which all other conceptions become possible; since this infinite +space contains in itself all dimensions of existence--transitory, real +and potential; and if the capacity of the mind is co-extensive with the +capacity of infinite space, since it feels itself undoubtedly capable of +grasping any limited idea contained in any portion of the illimitable +whole, it follows that the mind is of itself as infinite as the space in +which all created things have their transitory form of being, and in +which all uncreated truths exist eternally. The mind is aware of +infinity by that true sort of knowledge which is an intimate conviction +not dependent upon the operation of the senses. + +Gradually, too, as Zoroaster fixed his intuition upon the first main +principle of all possible knowledge, he became aware of the chief +cause--of the universal principal of vivifying essence, which pervades +all things, and in which arises motion as the original generator of +transitory being. The great law of division became clear to him--the +separation for a time of the universal agent into two parts, by the +separation and reuniting of which comes light and heat and the hidden +force of life, and the prime rules of attractive action; all things that +are accounted material. He saw the division of darkness and light, and +how all things that are in the darkness are reflected in the light; and +how the light which we call light is in reality darkness made visible, +whereas the true light is not visible to the eyes that are darkened by +the gross veil of transitory being. And as from the night of earth, his +eyes were gradually opened to the astral day, he knew that the forms +that move and have being in the night are perishable and utterly unreal; +whereas the purer being which is reflected in the real light is true and +endures for ever. + +Then, by his knowledge and power, and by the light that was in him, he +divided the portion of the universal agent that was in the cave where he +dwelt into two portions, and caused them to reunite in the midst upon +the stone that was there; and the flame burned silently and without heat +upon his altar, day and night, without intermission; and by the division +of the power within him, he could divide the power also that was latent +in other transitory beings, according to those laws which, being +eternal, are manifested in things not eternal, but perishable. + +And further, he meditated upon the seven parts of man, and upon their +separation, and upon the difference of their nature. + +For the first element of man is perishable matter. + +And the second element of man is the portion of the universal agent +which gives him life. + +And the third element of man is the reflection of his perishable +substance in the astral light, coincident with him, but not visible to +his earthly eye. + +The fourth element of man is made up of all the desires he feels by his +material senses. This part is not real being, nor transitory being, but +a result. + +The fifth element of man is that which says: "I am," whereby a man knows +himself from other men; and with it there is an intelligence of lower +things, but no intelligence of things higher. + +The sixth element is the pure understanding, eternal and co-extensive +with all infinity of time and space--real, imperishable, invisible to +the eye of man. + +The seventh element is the soul from God. + +Upon these things Zoroaster meditated long, and as his perishable body +became weakened and emaciated with fasting and contemplation, he was +aware that, at times, the universal agent ceased to be decomposed and +recomposed in the nerves of his material part, so that his body became +as though dead, and with, it the fourth element which represents the +sense of mortal desires; and he himself, the three highest elements of +him,--his individuality, his intelligence and his soul,--became +separated for a time from all that weighed them down; and his mind's +eyes were opened, and he saw clearly in the astral light, with an +intuitive knowledge of true things, and false. + +And so, night after night, he lay upon the floor of his cavern, rigid +and immovable; his body protected from all outer harmful influences by +the circle of light he had acquired the power of producing. For though +there was no heat in the flame, no mortal breathing animal could so much +as touch it with the smallest part of his body without being instantly +destroyed as by lightning. And so he was protected from all harm in his +trances; and he left his body at will and returned to it, and it +breathed again, and was alive. + +So he saw into the past and into the present and into the future, and +his soul was purified beyond the purity of man, and soared upwards, and +dreamed of the eternal good and of the endless truth; and at last it +seemed to him that he should leave his body in its trance, and never +return to it, nor let it breathe again. For since it was possible thus +to cast off mortality and put on immortality, it seemed to him that it +was but a weariness to take up the flesh and wear it, when it was so +easy to lay it down. Almost he had determined that he would then let +death come, as it were unawares, upon his perishable substance, and +remain for ever in the new life he had found. + +But as his spirit thought in this wise, he heard a voice speaking to +him, and he listened. + +"One moment is as another, and there is no difference between one time +and another time." + +"One moment in eternity is of as great value as another moment, for +eternity changes not, neither is one part of it better than another +part." + +"Though man be immortal as to his soul, he is mortal as to his body, and +the time which his soul shall spend in his body is of as great worth to +him as the time which he shall spend without it." + +"Think not that by wilfully abandoning the body, even though you have +the power and the knowledge to do so, you will escape from the state in +which it has pleased God to put you." + +"Rather shall your pain and the time of your suffering be increased, +because you have not done with the body that which the body shall do." + +"The life of the soul while it is in the body, has as much value as when +it has left it. You shall not shorten the time of dwelling in the flesh." + +"Though you know all things, you know not God. For though you know your +body which is in the world, and the world which is in time, and time +which is in space, yet your knowledge goeth no farther, for space and +all that therein is, is in God.[7]" + + [Footnote 7: Hermes Trismegistus, _Poemandres_ xi. 2.] + +"You have learned earthly things and heavenly things. Learn then that +you shall not escape the laws of earth while you are on earth, nor the +laws of heaven when you are in heaven. Lift up your heart to God, but do +in the body those things which are of the body." + +"There are other men put into the world besides you. If you leave the +world, what does your knowledge profit other men? And yet it is to +profit other men that God has put you into the world." + +"And not you only, but every man. The labour of man is to man, and the +labour of angels to angels. But the time of man is as valuable in the +sight of God, as the time of angels." + +"All things that are not accomplished in their time shall be left +unaccomplished for ever and ever. If while you are in the flesh, you +accomplish not the things of the flesh after the manner of your +humanity, you shall enter into the life of the spirit as one blind, or +maimed; for your part is not fulfilled." + +"Wisdom is this. A man shall not care for the things of the world for +himself, and his soul shall be lifted and raised above all that is mean +and perishable; but he shall perform his part without murmuring. He +shall not forget the perishable things, though he soar to the +imperishable." + +"For man is to man as one portion of eternity to another; and as +eternity would be imperfect if one moment could be removed, so also the +earth would be imperfect if one man should be taken from it before his +appointed time." + +"If a man therefore take himself out of the world, he causes +imperfection, and sins against perfection, which is the law of God." + +"Though the world be in darkness, the darkness is necessary to the +light. Though the world perish, and heaven perish not for ever, yet is +the perishable necessary to the eternal." + +"For the transitory and the unchangeable exist alike in eternity and are +portions of it. And one moment is as another, and there is no difference +between one time and another time." + +"Go, therefore, and take up your body, and do with it the deeds of the +body among men; for you have deeds to do, and unless they are done in +their time, which is now, they will be unfulfilled for ever, and you +will become an imperfect spirit." + +"The imperfect spirit shall be finally destroyed, for nothing that is +imperfect shall endure. To be perfect all things must be fulfilled, all +deeds done, in the season while the spirit is in darkness with the body. +The deeds perish, and the body which doeth them, but the soul of the +perfect man is eternal, and the reflection of what he has done, abides +for ever in the light." + +"Hasten, for your time is short. You have learned all things that are +lawful to be learnt, and your deeds shall be sooner accomplished." + +"Hasten, for one moment is as another, and there is no difference +between the value of one time and of another time." + +"The moment which passes returns not, and the thing which a man should +do in one time cannot be done in another time." + +The voice ceased, and the spirit of Zoroaster returned to his body in +the cave, and his eyes opened. Then he rose, and standing within the +circle, cast sand upon the portion towards the east; and so soon as the +circle was broken, it was extinguished and there remained nothing but +the marks Zoroaster had traced with his fingers upon the black sand. + +He drew his tattered mantle around him, and went to the entrance of the +cave, and passed out. And it was night. + +Overhead, the full moon cast her broad rays vertically into the little +valley, and the smooth black stones gleamed darkly. The reflection +caught the surface of the little pool by the spring, and it was turned +to a silver shield of light. + +Zoroaster came forward and stood beside the fountain, and the glory of +the moon fell upon his white locks and beard and on the long white hand +he laid upon the rock. + +His acute senses, sharpened beyond those of men by long solitude and +fasting, distinguished the step of a man far up the height on the +distant crags, and his keen sight soon detected a figure descending +cautiously, but surely, towards the deep abyss where Zoroaster stood. +More and more clearly he saw him, till the man was near, and stood upon +an overhanging boulder within speaking distance. He was the shepherd +who, from time to time, brought food to the solitary mystic; and who +alone, of all the goatherds in those hills, would have dared to invade +the sacred precincts of Zoroaster's retreat. He was a brave fellow, but +the sight of the lonely man by the fountain awed him; it seemed as +though his white hair emitted a light of its own under the rays of the +moon, and he paused in fear lest the unearthly ascetic should do him +some mortal hurt. + +"Wilt thou harm me if I descend?" he called out timidly. + +"I harm no man," answered Zoroaster. "Come in peace." + +The active shepherd swung himself from the boulder, and in a few moments +he stood among the stones at the bottom, a few paces from the man he +sought. He was a dark fellow, clad in goat-skins, with pieces of +leather bound around his short, stout legs. His voice was hoarse, +perhaps with some still unconquered fear, and his staff rattled as he +steadied himself among the stones. + +"Art not thou he who is called Zoroaster?" he asked. + +"I am he," answered the mystic. "What wouldest thou?" + +"Thou knowest that the Great King with his queens and his court are at +the palace of Stakhar," replied the man. "I go thither from time to time +to sell cheeses to the slaves. The Great King has made a proclamation +that whosoever shall bring before him Zoroaster shall receive a talent +of gold and a robe of purple. I am a poor shepherd--fearest thou to go +to the palace?" + +"I fear nothing. I am past fear these three years." + +"Will the Great King harm thee, thinkest thou? Thou hast paid me well +for my pains since I first saw thee, and I would not have thee hurt." + +"No man can harm me. My time is not yet come." + +"Wilt thou go with me?" cried the shepherd, in sudden delight. "And +shall I have the gold and the robe?" + +"I will go with thee. Thou shalt have all thou wouldest," answered +Zoroaster. "Art thou ready? I have no goods to burden me." + +"But thou art old," objected the shepherd, coming nearer. "Canst thou go +so far on foot? I have a beast; I will return with him in the morning, +and meet thee upon the height. I came hither in haste, being but just +returned from Stakhar with the news." + +"I am younger than thou, though my hair is white. I will go with thee. +Lead the way." + +He stooped and drank of the fountain in the moonlight, from the hollow +of his hand. Then he turned, and began to ascend the steep side of the +valley. The shepherd led the way in silence, overcome between his awe of +the man and his delight at his own good fortune. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +It was now three years since Nehushta had been married to Darius, and +the king loved her well. But often, in that time, he had been away from +her, called to different parts of the kingdom by the sudden outbreaks of +revolution which filled the early years of his reign. Each time he had +come back in triumph, and each time he had given her some rich gift. He +found indeed that he had no easy task to perform in keeping the peace +between his two queens; for Atossa seemed to delight in annoying +Nehushta and in making her feel that she was but the second in the +king's favour, whatever distinctions might be offered her. But Darius +was just and was careful that Atossa should receive her due, neither +more nor less. + +Nehushta was glad when Zoroaster was gone. She had suffered terribly in +that moment when he had spoken to her out of the crowd, and the winged +word had made a wound that rankled still. In those three years that +passed, Atossa never undeceived her concerning the sight she had seen, +and she still believed that Zoroaster had basely betrayed her. It was +impossible, in her view, that it could be otherwise. Had she not seen +him herself? Could any man do such an action who was not utterly base +and heartless? She had, of course, never spoken to Darius of the scene +upon the terrace. She did not desire the destruction of Atossa, nor of +her faithless lover. Amid all the tender kindness the king lavished upon +her, the memory of her first love endured still, and she could not have +suffered the pain of going over the whole story again. He was gone, +perhaps dead, and she would never see him again. He would not dare to +set foot in the court. She remembered the king's furious anger against +him, when he suspected that the hooded man in the procession was +Zoroaster. But Darius had afterwards said, in his usual careless way, +that he himself would have done as much, and that for his oath's sake, +he would never harm the young Persian. By the grace of Auramazda he +swore, he was the king of kings and did not make war upon disappointed +lovers! + +Meanwhile, Darius had built himself a magnificent palace, below the +fortress of Stakhar, in the valley of the Araxes, and there he spent the +winter and the spring, when the manifold cares of the state would permit +him. He had been almost unceasingly at war with the numerous pretenders +who set themselves up for petty kings in the provinces. With unheard-of +rapidity, he moved from one quarter of his dominions to another, from +east to west, from north to south; but each time that he returned, he +found some little disturbance going on at the court, and he bent his +brows and declared that a parcel of women were harder to govern than all +Media, Persia, and Babylon together. + +Atossa wearied him with her suggestions. + +"When the king is gone upon an expedition," she said, "there is no head +in the palace. Otanes is a weak man. The king will not give me the +control of the household, neither will he give it to any one else." + +"There is no one whom I can trust," answered Darius. "Can you not dwell +together in peace for a month?" + +"No," answered Atossa, with her winning smile, "it is impossible; the +king's wives will never agree among themselves. Let the king choose some +one and make a head over the palace." + +"Whom shall I choose?" asked Darius, moodily. + +"The king had a faithful servant once," suggested Atossa. + +"Have I none now?" + +"Yea, but none so faithful as this man of whom I speak, nor so ready to +do the king's bidding. He departed from Shushan when the king took +Nehushta to wife--" + +"Mean you Zoroaster?" asked Darius, bending his brows, and eyeing Atossa +somewhat fiercely. But she met his glance with indifference. + +"The same," she answered. "Why not send for him and make him governor of +the palace? He was indeed a faithful servant--and a willing one." + +Still the king gazed hard at her face, as though trying to fathom the +reason of her request, or at least to detect some scornful look upon her +face to agree with her sneering words. But he was no match for the +unparalleled astuteness of Atossa, though he had a vague suspicion that +she wished to annoy him by calling up a memory which she knew could not +be pleasant, and he retorted in his own fashion. + +"If Zoroaster be yet alive I will have him brought, and I will make him +governor of the palace. He was indeed a faithful servant--he shall rule +you all and there shall be no more discord among you." + +And forthwith the king issued a proclamation that whosoever should bring +Zoroaster before him should receive a talent of gold and a robe of +purple as a reward. + +But when Nehushta heard of it she was greatly troubled; for Atossa began +to tell her that Zoroaster was to return and to be made governor of the +palace; but Nehushta rose and left her forthwith, with such a look of +dire hatred and scorn that even the cold queen thought she had, perhaps, +gone too far. + +There were other reasons why the king desired Zoroaster's return. He had +often wondered secretly how the man could so have injured Nehushta as to +turn her love into hate in a few moments; but he had never questioned +her. It was a subject neither of them could have approached, and Darius +was far too happy in his marriage to risk endangering that happiness by +any untoward discovery. Nehushta's grief and anger had been so genuine +when she told him of Zoroaster's treachery that it had never occurred to +him that he might be injuring the latter in marrying the princess, +though his generous heart had told him more than once, that Nehushta had +married him half from gratitude for his kindness, and half out of anger +with her false lover; but, capricious as she was in all other things, +towards the king she was always the same, gentle and affectionate, +though there was nothing passionate in her love. And now, the idea of +seeing the man who had betrayed her installed in an official position in +the palace, was terrible to her pride. She could not sleep for thinking +how she should meet him, and what she should do. She grew pale and +hollow-eyed with the anticipation of evil and all her peace went from +her. Deep down in her heart there was yet a clinging affection for the +old love, which she smothered and choked down bravely; but it was there +nevertheless, a sleeping giant, ready to rise and overthrow her whole +nature in a moment, if only she could wash away the stain of +faithlessness which sullied his fair memory, and lift the load of +dishonour which had crushed him from the sovereign place he had held in +the dominion of her soul. + +Darius was himself curious to ascertain the truth about Zoroaster's +conduct. But another and a weightier reason existed for which he wished +him to return. The king was disturbed about a matter of vital importance +to his kingdom, and he knew that, among all his subjects, there was not +one more able to give him assistance and advice than Zoroaster, the +pupil of the dead prophet Daniel. + +The religion of the kingdom was of a most uncertain kind. So many +changes had passed over the various provinces which made up the great +empire that, for generations, there had been almost a new religion for +every monarch. Cyrus, inclining to the idolatry of the Phoenicians, had +worshipped the sun and moon, and had built temples and done sacrifice to +them and to a multitude of deities. Cambyses had converted the temples +of his father into places of fire-worship, and had burnt thousands of +human victims; rejoicing in the splendour of his ceremonies and in the +fierce love of blood that grew upon him as his vices obtained the +mastery over his better sense. But under both kings the old Aryan +worship of the Magians had existed among the people, and the Magians +themselves had asserted, whenever they dared, their right to be +considered the priestly caste, the children of the Brahmins of the Aryan +house. Gomata--the false Smerdis--was a Brahmin, at least in name, and +probably in descent; and during his brief reign the only decrees he +issued from his retirement in the palace of Shushan, were for the +destruction of the existing temples and the establishment of the Magian +worship throughout the kingdom. When Darius had slain Smerdis, he +naturally proceeded to the destruction of the Magi, and the streets of +Shushan ran with their blood for many days. He then restored the temples +and the worship of Auramazda, as well as he was able; but it soon became +evident that the religion was in a disorganised state and that it would +be no easy matter to enforce a pure monotheism upon a nation of men who, +in their hearts, were Magians, nature-worshippers; and who, through +successive reigns, had been driven by force to the adoration of strange +idols. It followed that the people resisted the change and revolted +whenever they could find a leader. The numerous revolutions, which cost +Darius no less than nineteen battles, were, almost without exception, +brought about in the attempt to restore the Magian worship in various +provinces of the kingdom, and it may well be doubted whether, at any +time in the world's history, an equal amount of blood was ever shed in +so short a period in the defence of religious convictions. + +Darius himself was a man who had the strongest belief in the power of +Auramazda, the All-Wise God, and who did not hesitate to attribute all +the evil in the world to Ahriman, the devil. He had a bitter contempt +for all idolatry, nature-worship and superstition generally, and he +adhered in his daily life to the simple practices of the ancient +Mazdayashnians. But he was totally unfitted to be the head of a +religious movement; and, although he had collected such of the +priesthood as seemed most worthy, and had built them temples and given +them privileges of all kinds, he was far from satisfied with their mode +of worship. He could not frame a new doctrine, but he had serious doubts +whether the ceremonies his priests performed were as simple and +religious as he wished them to be. The chants, long hymns of endless +repetition and monotony, were well enough, perhaps; the fire that was +kept burning perpetually was a fitting emblem of the sleepless wisdom +and activity of the Supreme Being in overcoming darkness with light. But +the boundless intoxication into which the priests threw themselves by +the excessive drinking of the Haoma, the wild and irregular acts of +frenzy by which they expressed their religious fervour when under the +influence of the subtle drink, were adjuncts to the simple purity of the +bloodless sacrifice which disgusted the king, and he hesitated long as +to some reform in these matters. The oldest Mazdayashnians declared that +the drinking of Haoma was an act, at once pleasing to God and necessary +to stimulate the zeal of the priests in the long and monotonous +chanting, which would otherwise soon sink to a mere perfunctory +performance of a wearisome task. The very repetition which the hymns +contained seemed to prove that they were not intended to be recited by +men not under some extraordinary influence. Only the wild madness of the +Haoma drinker could sustain such an endless series of repeated prayers +with fitting devotion and energy. + +All this the king heard and was not satisfied. He attended the +ceremonies with becoming regularity and sat through the performance of +the rites with exemplary patience. But he was disgusted, and he desired +a reform. Then he remembered how Zoroaster himself was a good +Mazdayashnian, and how he had occupied himself with religious studies +from his youth up, and how he had enjoyed the advantage of being the +companion of Daniel, the Hebrew governor, whose grand simplicity of +faith had descended, to some degree, upon his pupil. The Hebrews, Darius +knew, were a sober people of the strongest religious convictions, and he +had heard that, although eating formed, in some way, a part of their +ceremonies, there was no intoxication connected with their worship. +Zoroaster, he thought, would be able to give him advice upon this point, +which would be good. In sending for the man he would fulfil the double +purpose of seeming to grant the queen's request, and at the same time, +of providing himself with a sage counsellor in his difficulties. With +his usual impetuosity, he at once fulfilled his purpose, assuring +himself that Zoroaster must have forgotten Nehushta by this time, and +that he, the king, was strong enough to prevent trouble if he had not. + +But many days passed, and though the proclamation was sent to all parts +of the kingdom, nothing was heard of Zoroaster. His retreat was a sure +one and there was no possibility of his being found. + +Atossa, who in her heart longed for Zoroaster's return, both because by +his means she hoped to bring trouble upon Nehushta, and because she +still felt something akin to love for him, began to fear that he might +be dead, or might have wandered out of the kingdom; but Nehushta herself +knew not whether to hope that he would return, or to rejoice that she +was to escape the ordeal of meeting him. She would have given anything +to see him for a moment, to decide, as it were, whether she wished to +see him, or not. She was deeply disturbed by the anxiety she felt and +longed to know definitely what she was to expect. + +She began to hate Stakhar with its splendid gardens and gorgeous +colonnades, with its soft southern air that blew across the valley of +roses all day long, wafting up a wondrous perfume to the south windows. +She hated the indolent pomp in which she lived and the idle luxury of +her days. Something in her hot-blooded Hebrew nature craved for the +blazing sun and the sand-wastes of Syria, for the breath of the desert +and for the burning heat of the wilderness. She had scarcely ever seen +these things, for she had sojourned during the one-and-twenty years of +her life, in the most magnificent palaces of the kingdom, and amid the +fairest gardens the hand of man could plant. But the love of the sun and +of the sand was bred in the blood. She began to hate the soft cushions +and the delicate silks and the endless flowers scenting the heavy air. + +Stakhar[8] itself was a mighty fortress, in the valley of the Araxes, +rising dark and forbidding from the banks of the little river, crowned +with towers and turrets and massive battlements, that overlooked the +fertile extent of gardens, as a stern schoolmaster frowning over a crowd +of fair young children. But Darius had chosen the site of his palace at +some distance from the stronghold; where the river bent suddenly round a +spur of the mountain, and watered a wider extent of land. The spur of +the hill ran down, by an easy gradation, into the valley; and beyond it +the hills separated into the wide plain of Merodasht that stretched +southward many farsangs to the southern pass. Upon this promontory the +king had caused to be built a huge platform which was ascended by the +broadest flight of steps in the whole world, so easy of gradation that a +man might easily have ridden up and then down again without danger to +his horse. Upon the platform was raised the palace, a mighty structure +resting on the vast columned porticoes and halls, built entirely of +polished black marble, that contrasted strangely with the green slopes +of the hills above and with the bright colours of the rose-gardens. +Endless buildings rose behind the palace, and stretched far down towards +the river below it. Most prominent of those above was the great temple +of Auramazda, where the ceremonies were performed which gave Darius so +much anxiety. It was a massive, square building, lower than the palace, +consisting of stone walls surrounded by a deep portico of polished +columns. It was not visible from the great staircase, being placed +immediately behind the palace and hidden by it. + + [Footnote 8: Istakhar, called since the conquest of Alexander, + Persepolis.] + +The walls and the cornices and the capitals of the pillars were richly +sculptured with sacrificial processions, and long trains of soldiers and +captives, with great inscriptions of wedge-shaped letters, and with +animals of all sorts. The work was executed by Egyptian captives; and so +carefully was the hard black marble carved and polished, that a man +could see his face in the even surfaces, and they sent back the light +like dark mirrors. + +The valley above Stakhar was grand in its great outlines of crags and +sharp, dark peaks, and the beetling fortress upon its rocky base, far up +the gorge, seemed only a jutting fragment of the great mountain, thrown +off and separated from the main chain by an earthquake, or some vast +accident of nature. But from the palace itself the contrast of the views +was great. On one side, the rugged hills, crag-crowned and bristling +black against the north-western sky; on the other, the great bed of +rose-gardens and orangeries and cultivated enclosures filled the plain, +till in the dim distance rose the level line of the soft blue southern +hills, blending mistily in the lazy light of a far-off warmth. It seemed +as though on one side of the palace were winter, and on the other +summer; on the one side cold, and on the other heat; on the one side +rough strength, and on the other gentle rest. + +But Nehushta gazed northward and was weary of the cold, and southward, +and she wearied of the heat. There was nothing--nothing in it all that +was worth one moment of the old sweet moonlit evenings among the myrtles +at Ecbatana. When she thought, there was nothing of all her royal state +and luxury that she would not readily give to have had Zoroaster remain +faithful to her. She had put him away from her heart, driven him out +utterly, as she believed; but now that he was spoken of again, she knew +not whether she loved him a little in spite of all his unfaithfulness, +or whether it was only the memory of the love she had felt before which +stirred in her breast, and made her unconsciously speak his name when +she was alone. + +She looked back over the three years that were passed, and she knew that +she had done her duty by the king. She knew also that she had done it +willingly, and that there had been many moments when she said to herself +that she loved Darius dearly. Indeed, it was not hard to find a reason +for loving him, for he was brave and honest and noble in all his +thoughts and ways; and whatever he had been able to do to show his love +for Nehushta, he had done. It was not the least of the things that had +made her life pass so easily, that she felt daily how she was loved +before her rival, and how, in her inmost heart, Atossa chafed at seeing +Darius forsake her society for that of the Hebrew princess. If the king +had wearied of her, Nehushta would very likely have escaped from the +palace, and gone out to face any misfortunes the world might hold for +her, rather than remain to bear the scoffing of the fair smiling woman +she so hated. Or, she would have stolen in by night to where Atossa +slept, and the wicked-looking Indian knife she wore, would have gone +down, swift and sure, to the very haft, into the queen's heart. She +would not have borne tamely any slight upon her beauty or her claims. +But, as it was, she reigned supreme. The king was just, and showed no +difference in the state and attendance of the two queens, but it was to +Nehushta he turned, when he drank deep at the banquet and pledged the +loving cup. It was to Nehushta that he went when the cares of state were +heavy and he needed counsel; and it was upon her lap he laid his weary +head, when he had ridden far and fast for many days, returning from some +hard-fought field. + +But the queens hated each other with a fierce hatred, and when Darius +was absent, their divisions broke out sometimes into something like open +strife. Their guards buffeted each other in the courts, and their +slave-women tore out each other's hair upon the stairways. Then, when +the king returned, there reigned an armed peace for a time, which none +dared break. But rumours of the disturbances that had taken place often +reached the royal ears, and Darius was angry and swore great oaths, but +could do nothing; being no wiser than many great men who have had to +choose between the caprices of two women who hated each other. + +Now the rumour went abroad that Zoroaster would return to the court; and +for a space, the two queens kept aloof, for both knew that if he came +back, some mortal conflict would of necessity arise between them; and +each watched the other, and was cautious. + +The days passed by, but no one answered the proclamation. No one had +seen or heard of Zoroaster, since the night when he left the palace at +Shushan. He had taken nothing with him, and had left no trace behind to +guide the search. Many said he had left the kingdom; some said he was +dead in the wilderness. But Nehushta sighed and took little rest, for do +what she would, she had hoped to see him once more. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +The interior of the temple was lighted with innumerable lamps, suspended +from the ceiling, of bronze and of the simplest workmanship, like +everything which pertained to the worship of Auramazda. In the midst, +upon a small altar of black stone, stood a bronze brazier, shaped like a +goblet, wherein a small fire of wood burned quietly, sending up little +wreaths of smoke, which spread over the flat ceiling and hung like a +mist about the lamps; before the altar lay a supply of fuel--fine, +evenly-cut sticks of white pine-wood, piled in regular order in a +symmetrical heap. At one extremity of the oblong hall stood a huge +mortar of black marble, having a heavy wooden pestle, and standing upon +a circular base, in which was cut a channel all around, with an opening +in the front from which the Haoma juice poured out abundantly when the +fresh milkweed was moistened and pounded together in the mortar. A +square receptacle of marble received the fluid, which remained until it +had fermented during several days, and had acquired the intoxicating +strength for which it was prized, and to which it owed its sacred +character. By the side of this vessel, upon a low marble table, lay a +huge wooden ladle; and two golden cups, short and wide, but made smaller +in the middle like a sand-glass, stood there also. + +At the opposite end of the temple, before a marble screen which shielded +the doorway, was placed a great carved chair of ebony and gold and +silver, raised upon a step above the level of the floor. + +It was already dark when the king entered the temple, dressed in his +robes of state, with his sword by his side, his long sceptre tipped with +the royal sphere in his right hand, and the many-pointed crown upon his +head. His heavy black beard had grown longer in the three years that had +passed, and flowed down over his vest of purple and white half-way to +his belt. His face was stern, and the deep lines of his strong features +had grown more massive in outline. With the pride of every successive +triumph had come also something more of repose and conscious power. His +step was slower, and his broad brown hand grasped the golden sceptre +with less of nervous energy and more unrelenting force. But his brows +were bent, and his expression, as he took his seat before the screen, +over against the altar of the fire, was that of a man who was prepared +to be discontented and cared little to conceal what he felt. + +After him came the chief priest, completely robed in white, with a +thick, white linen sash rolled for a girdle about his waist, the fringed +ends hanging stiffly down upon one side. Upon his head he wore a great +mitre, also of white linen, and a broad fringed stole of the same +material fell in two wide bands from each side of his neck to his feet. +His beard was black and glossy, fine as silk, and reached almost to his +waist. He came and stood with his back to the king and his face to the +altar, ten paces from the second fire. + +Then, from behind the screen and from each side of it, the other priests +filed out, two and two, all clad in white like the chief priest, save +that their mitres were smaller and they wore no stole. They came out and +ranged themselves around the walls of the temple, threescore and nine +men, of holy order, trained in the ancient chanting of the Mazdayashnian +hymns; men in the prime and strength of life, black-bearded and +broad-shouldered, whose massive brows and straight features indicated +noble powers of mind and body. + +The two who stood nearest to the chief priest came forward, and taking +from his hands a square linen cloth he bore, bound it across his mouth +and tied it behind his neck in a firm knot by means of strings. Then, +one of them put into his left hand a fan of eagles' feathers, and the +other gave him a pair of wrought-iron pincers. Then they left him to +advance alone to the altar. + +He went forward till he was close to the bronze brazier, and stooping +down, he took from the heap of fuel a clean white stick, with the +pincers, which he carefully laid upon the fire. Then with his left hand +he gently fanned the flames, and his mouth being protected by the linen +cloth in such a manner that his breath could not defile the sacred fire, +he began slowly and in a voice muffled by the bandage he wore, to recite +the beginning of the sacrificial hymn: + + _"Best of all goods is purity. + Glory, glory to him + Who is best and purest in purity. + For he who ruleth from purity, he abideth according + to the will of the Lord. + The All-Wise giveth gifts for the works which man + doeth in the world for the Lord. + He who protecteth the poor giveth the kingdom to Ahura."_[9] + + [Footnote 9: Probably the oldest hymns in the Avesta language.] + +Then all the priests repeated the verses together in chorus, their +voices sounding in a unison which, though not precisely song, seemed +tending to a musical cadence as the tones rose and fell again upon the +last two syllables of each verse. And then again, the chief priest and +the other priests together repeated the hymn, many times, in louder and +louder chorus, with more and more force of intonation; till the chief +priest stepped back from the fire, and delivering up the pincers and the +fan, allowed the two assistants to unbind the cloth from his mouth. + +He walked slowly up the temple on the left side, and keeping his right +hand toward the altar, he walked seven times around it, repeating a hymn +alone in low tones; till, after the seventh time, he went up to the +farther end of the hall, and stood before the black marble trough in +which the fermented Haoma stood ready, having been prepared with due +ceremony three days before. + +Then, in a loud voice, he intoned the chant in praise of Zaothra and +Bareshma, holding high in his right hand the bundle of sacred stalks; +which he, from time to time, moistened a little in the water from a +vessel which stood ready, and sprinkled to the four corners of the +temple. The priests again took up the strain in chorus, repeating over +and over the burden of the song. + + _"Zaothra, I praise thee and desire thee with praise! + Bareshma, I praise thee and desire thee with praise! + Zaothra, with Bareshma united, I praise you + and desire you with praise! + Bareshma, with Zaothra united, I praise you and + desire you with praise!"_ + +Suddenly the chief priest laid down the Bareshma, and seizing one of the +golden goblets, filled it, with the wooden ladle, from the dark +receptacle of the juice. As he poured it high, the yellow light of the +lamp caught the transparent greenish fluid, and made it sparkle +strangely. He put the goblet to his lips and drank. + +The king, sitting in silence upon his carved throne at the other +extremity of the temple, bent his brows in a dark frown as he saw the +hated ceremony begin. He knew how it ended, and grand as the words were +which they would recite when the subtle fluid had fired their veins, he +loathed to see the intoxication that got possession of them; and the +frenzy with which they howled the sacred strains seemed to him to +destroy the solemnity and dignity of a hymn, in which all that was +solemn and high would otherwise have seemed to be united. + +The chief priest drank and then, filling both goblets, gave them to the +priests at his right and left hand; who, after drinking, passed each +other, and made way for those next them; and so the whole number filed +past the Haoma vessel and drank their share till they all had changed +places, and those who had stood upon the right, now stood upon the left; +and those who were first upon the left hand, were now upon the right. +And when all had drunk, the chief priest intoned the great hymn of +praise, and all the chorus united with him in high, clear tones: + + _"The All-Wise Creator, Ahura Mazda, the greatest, the best, the + most fair in glory and majesty," + + "The mightiest in his strength, the wisest in his wisdom, the + holiest in his holiness, whose power is of all power the + fairest," + + "Who is very wise, who maketh all things to rejoice afar," + + "Who hath made us and formed us, who hath saved us, the holiest + among the heavenly ones," + + "Him I adore and praise, unto him I declare the sacrifice, him I + invite," + + "I declare the sacrifice to the Protector, the Peace-maker, who + maketh the fire to burn, who preserveth the wealth of the earth; + the whole earth and the wisdom thereof, the seas and the waters, + the land and all growing things, I invite to the sacrifice." + + "Cattle and living things, and the fire of Ahura, the sure + helper, the lord of the archangels," + + "The nights and the days, I call upon, the purity of all created + light," + + "The Lord of light, the sun in his glory, glorious in name and + worthy of honour," + + "Who giveth food unto men, and multiplieth the cattle upon the + earth, who causeth mankind to increase, I call upon and invite to + the sacrifice," + + "Water, and the centre of all waters, given and made of God, that + refresheth all things and maketh all things to grow, I call upon + and invite." + + "The souls of the righteous and pure, the whole multitude of + living men and women upon earth, I call upon and invite." + + "I call upon the triumph and the mighty strength of God," + + "I call upon the archangels who keep the world, upon the months, + upon the pure, new moon, the lordship of purity in heaven," + + "I call upon the feasts of the years and the seasons, upon the + years and the months and days," + + "I call upon the star Ahura,[10] and upon the one great and + eternal in purity, and upon all the stars, the works of God," + + "Upon the star Tistrya I call, the far-shining, the + magnificent--upon the fair moon that shineth upon the young + cattle, upon the glorious sun swift in the race of his flight, + the eye of the Lord." + + "I call upon the spirits and souls of the righteous, on the + fire-begotten of the Lord, and upon all fires." + + "Mountains and all hills, lightened and full of light." + + "Majesty of kingly honour, the Majesty of the king which dieth + not, is not diminished," + + "All wisdom and blessings and true promises, all men who are full + of strength and power and might," + + "All places and lands and countries beneath the heavens, and + above the heavens, light without beginning, existing, and without + end," + + "All creatures pure and good, male and female upon the earth." + + "All you I invite and call upon to the sacrifice." + + "Havani, pure, lord of purity!" + + "Shavanghi, pure, lord of purity!" + + "Rapithwina, pure, lord of purity!" + + "Uzayêirina, pure, lord of purity!" + + "Aiwishruthrema, Aibigaya, pure, lord of purity!" + + "Ushahina, pure, lord of purity!" + + "To Havani, Shavanghi and Vishya, the pure, the lords of purity + most glorious, be honour and prayer and fulfilment and praise." + + "To the days, and the nights, and the hours, the months and the + years and the feasts of years, be honour and prayer and + fulfilment and praise before Auramazda, the All-Wise, for ever + and ever and ever."_[11] + + [Footnote 10: Ahura, Jupiter. Tistrya, Sirius.] + + [Footnote 11: Partly a translation, partly a close imitation in + a condensed form of Yashna I.] + +As the white-robed priests shouted the verses of the long hymn, their +eyes flashed and their bodies moved rhythmically from side to side with +an ever-increasing motion. From time to time, the golden goblets were +filled with the sweet Haoma juice, and passed rapidly from hand to hand +along the line, and as each priest drank more freely of the subtle +fermented liquor, his eyes gained a new and more unnatural light, and +his gestures grew more wild, while the whole body of voices rose +together from an even and dignified chant to an indistinguishable +discord of deafening yells. + +Ever more and more they drank, repeating the verses of the hymn without +order or sequence. One man repeated a verse over and over again in +ear-piercing shrieks, swaying his body to and fro till he dropped +forward upon the ground, foaming at the mouth, his features distorted +with a wild convulsion, and his limbs as rigid as stone. Here, a band of +five locked their arms together, and, back to back, whirled madly round, +screaming out the names of the archangels, in an indiscriminate rage of +sound and broken syllables. One, less enduring than the rest, relaxed +his hold upon his fellow's arm and fell headlong on the pavement, while +the remaining four were carried on by the force of their whirling, and +fell together against others who steadied themselves against the wall, +swaying their heads and arms from side to side. Overthrown by the fall +of their companions, these in their turn fell forward upon the others, +and in a few moments, the whole company of priests lay grovelling one +upon the other, foaming at the mouth, but still howling out detached +verses of their hymn--a mass of raging, convulsed humanity, tearing each +other in the frenzy of drunkenness, rolling over and over each otter in +the twisted contortions of frenzied maniacs. The air grew thick with the +smoke of the fire and of the lamps, and the unceasing, indescribable din +of the hoarsely howling voices seemed to make the very roof rock upon +the pillars that held it up, as though the stones themselves must go mad +and shriek in the universal fury of sound. The golden goblets rolled +upon the marble pavement, and the sweet green juice ran in slimy streams +upon the floor. The high priest himself, utterly intoxicated and +screaming with a voice like a wild beast in agony, fell backwards across +the marble vase at the foot of the mortar and his hand and arm plashed +into the dregs of the fermented Haoma. + +Never had the drunken frenzy reached such a point before. The king had +sat motionless and frowning upon his seat until he saw the high priest +fall headlong into the receptacle of the sacred Haoma. Then, with a +groan, he laid his two hands upon the arms of his carved chair, and +rose to his feet in utter disgust and horror. But, as he turned to go, +he stood still and shook from head to foot, for he saw beside him a +figure that might, at such a moment, have startled the boldest. + +A tall man of unearthly looks stood there, whose features he seemed to +know, but could not recognise. His face was thin to emaciation, and his +long, white hair fell in tangled masses, with his huge beard, upon his +half-naked shoulders and bare chest. The torn, dark mantle he wore was +falling to the ground as he faced the drunken herd of howling priests +and lifted up his thin blanched arms and bony fingers, as though in +protest at the hideous sight. His deep-set eyes were blue and fiery, +flashing with a strange light. He seemed not to see Darius, but he gazed +in deepest horror upon the writhing mass of bestial humanity below. + +Suddenly his arms shook, and standing there, against the dark marble +screen, like the very figure and incarnation of fate, he spoke in a +voice that, without effort, seemed to dominate the hideous din of +yelling voices--a voice that was calm and clear as a crystal bell, but +having that in it which carried instantly the words he spoke to the ears +of the very most besotted wretch that lay among the heaps upon the +floor--a voice that struck like a sharp steel blade upon iron. + +"I am the prophet of the Lord. Hold ye your peace." + +As a wild beast's howling suddenly diminishes and grows less and dies +away to silence, when the hunter's arrow has sped close to the heart +with a mortal wound, so in one moment, the incoherent din sank down, and +the dead stillness that followed was dreadful by contrast. Darius stood +with his hand upon the arm of his chair, not understanding the words of +the fearful stranger; still less the mastering power those words had +upon the drunken priests. But his courage did not desert him, and he +feared not to speak. + +"How sayest thou that thou art a prophet? Who art thou?" he asked. + +"Thou knowest me and hast sent for me," answered the white-haired man, +in his calm tones; but his fiery eyes rested on the king's, and Darius +almost quailed under the glance. "I am Zoroaster; I am come to proclaim +the truth to thee and to these miserable men, thy priests." + +The fear they felt had restored the frenzied men to their senses. One by +one, they rose and crept back towards the high priest himself, who had +struggled to his feet, and stood upon the basement of the mortar above +all the rest. + +Then Darius looked, and he knew that it was Zoroaster, but he knew not +the strange look upon his face, and the light in his eyes was not as the +light of other days. He turned to the priests. + +"Ye are unworthy priests," he cried angrily, "for ye are drunk with +your own sacrifice, and ye defile God's temple with unseemly cries. +Behold this man--can ye tell me whether he be indeed a prophet?" +Darius, whose anger was fast taking the place of the awe he had felt +when he first saw Zoroaster beside him, strode a step forward, with his +hand upon his sword-hilt, as though he would take summary vengeance +upon the desecrators of the temple. + +"He is surely a liar!" cried the high priest from his position beyond +the altar, as though hurling defiance at Zoroaster through the flames. + +"He is surely a liar!" repeated all the priests together, following +their head. + +"He is a Magian, a worshipper of idols, a liar and the father of lies! +Down with him! Slay him before the altar; destroy the unbeliever that +entereth the temple of Ahura Mazda!" + +"Down with the Magian! Down with the idolater!" cried the priests, and +moved forward in a body toward the thin white-haired man who stood +facing them, serene and high. + +Darius drew his short sword and rushed before Zoroaster to strike down +the foremost of the priests. But Zoroaster seized the keen blade in the +air as though it had been a reed, and wrenched it from the king's strong +grip, and broke it in pieces like glass, and cast the fragments at his +feet. Darius staggered back in amazement, and the herd of angry men, in +whose eyes still blazed the drunkenness of the Haoma, huddled together +for a moment like frightened sheep. + +"I have no need of swords," said Zoroaster, in his cold, clear voice. + +Then the high priest cried aloud, and ran forward and seized a brand +from the sacred fire. + +"It is Angramainyus, the Power of Evil," he yelled fiercely. "He is come +to fight with Auramazda in his temple! But the fire of the Lord shall +destroy him!" + +As the priest rushed upon him, with the blazing brand raised high to +strike, Zoroaster faced him and fixed his eyes upon the angry man. The +priest suddenly stood still, his hand in mid-air, and the stout piece of +burning wood fell to the floor, and lay smouldering and smoking upon the +pavement. + +"Tempt not the All-Wise Lord, lest he destroy thee," said Zoroaster +solemnly. "Harken, ye priests, and obey the word from heaven. Take the +brazier from your altar, and scatter the embers upon the floor, for the +fire is defiled." + +Silent and trembling, the priests obeyed, for they were afraid; but the +high priest stood looking in amazement upon Zoroaster. + +When the brazier was gone, and the coals were scattered out upon the +pavement, and the priests had trodden out the fire with their leathern +shoes, Zoroaster went to the black marble altar, and faced the east, +looking towards the stone mortar at the end. He laid his long, thin +hands upon the flat surface and drew them slowly together; and, in the +sight of the priests, a light sprang up softly between his fingers; +gradually at first, then higher and higher, till it stood like a blazing +spear-head in the midst, emitting a calm, white effulgence that darkened +the lamps overhead, and shed an unearthly whiteness on Zoroaster's white +face. + +He stepped back from the altar, and a low murmur of astonishment rose +from all the crowd of white-robed men. Darius stood in silent wonder, +gazing alternately upon the figure of Zoroaster, and upon the fragments +of his good sword that lay scattered upon the pavement. + +Zoroaster looked round upon the faces of the priests with blazing eyes: + +"If ye be true priests of Ahura Mazda, raise with me the hymn of +praise," he said. "Let it be heard in the heavens, and let it echo +beyond the spheres!" + +Then his voice rose calm and clear above all the others, and lifting up +his eyes and hands, he intoned the solemn chant: + + _"He, who by truth ruleth in purity, abideth according to the + will of the Lord." + + "The Lord All-Wise is the giver of gifts to men for the works + which men in the world shall do in the truth of the Lord." + + "He who protecteth the poor giveth the kingdom to God." + + "Best of all earthly goods is truth." + + "Glory, glory on high for ever to him who is best in heaven, and + truest in truth on earth!"_ + +Zoroaster's grand voice rang out, and all the priests sang melodiously +together; and upon the place which had been the scene of such frenzy and +fury and drunkenness, there descended a peace as holy and calm as the +quiet flame that burned without fuel upon the black stone in the midst. +One by one, the priests came and fell at Zoroaster's feet; the chief +priest first of all. + +"Thou art the prophet and priest of the Lord," each said, one after +another. "I acknowledge thee to be the chief priest, and I swear to be a +true priest with thee." + +And last of all, the king, who had stood silently by, came and would +have kneeled before Zoroaster. But Zoroaster took his hands, and they +embraced. + +"Forgive me the wrong I did thee, Zoroaster," said Darius. "For thou art +a holy man, and I will honour thee as thou wast not honoured before." + +"Thou hast done me no wrong," answered Zoroaster. "Thou hast sent for +me, and I am come to be thy faithful friend, as I swore to thee, long +ago, in the tent at Shushan." + +Then they took Zoroaster's torn clothes, and they clad him in white +robes and set a spotless mitre upon his head; and the king, for the +second time, took his golden chain from his own neck, and put it about +Zoroaster's shoulders. And they led him away into the palace. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +When it was known that Zoroaster had returned, there was some stir in +the palace. The news that he was made high priest soon reached +Nehushta's ears, and she wondered what change had come over him in three +years that could have made a priest of such a man. She remembered him +young and marvellously fair, a warrior at all points, though at the same +time an accomplished courtier. She could not imagine him invested with +the robes of priesthood, leading a chorus of singers in the chanting of +the hymns. + +But it was not only as a chief priest that Darius had reinstalled +Zoroaster in the palace. The king needed a counsellor and adviser, and +the learned priest seemed a person fitted for the post. + +On the following day, Nehushta, as was her wont, went out, in the cool +of the evening, to walk in the gardens, attended by her maidens, her +fan-girls and the slaves who bore her carpet and cushions in case she +wished to sit down. She walked languidly, as though she hardly cared to +lift her delicate slippered feet from the smooth walk, and often she +paused and plucked a flower, and all her train of serving-women stopped +behind her, not daring even to whisper among themselves, for the young +queen was in no gentle humour of mind. Her face was pale and her eyes +were heavy, for she knew the man she had so loved in other days was +near, and though he had so bitterly deceived her, the sound of his sweet +promises was yet in her ears; and sometimes, in her dreams, she felt the +gentle breath of his mouth upon her sleeping lips, and woke with a start +of joy that was but the forerunner of a new sadness. + +Slowly she paced the walks of the rose-gardens, thinking of another +place in the far north, where there had been roses, and myrtles too, +upon a terrace where the moonlight was very fair. + +As she turned a sharp corner where the overhanging shrubbery darkened +the declining light to a dusky shade, she found herself face to face +with the man of whom she was thinking. His tall thin figure, clad in +spotless white robes, seemed like a shadow in the gloom, and his snowy +beard and hair made a strange halo about his young face, that was so +thin and worn. He walked slowly, his hands folded together, and his eyes +upon the ground; while a few paces behind him two young priests followed +with measured steps, conversing in low tones, as though fearing to +disturb the meditations of their master. + +Nehushta started a little and would have passed on, although she +recognised the face of him she had loved. But Zoroaster lifted his eyes, +and looked on her with so strange an expression that she stopped short +in the way. The deep, calm light in his eyes awed her, and there was +something in his majestic presence that seemed of another world. + +"Hail, Nehushta!" said the high priest quietly. + +But, at the sound of his voice, the spell was broken. The Hebrew woman +lifted her head proudly, and her black eyes flashed again. + +"Greet me not," she answered, "for the greeting of a liar is like the +sting of the serpent that striketh unawares in the dark." + +Zoroaster's face never changed, only his luminous eyes gazed on hers +intently, and she paused again, as though riveted to the spot. + +"I lie not, nor have lied to thee ever," he answered calmly. "Go thou +hence, ask her whom thou hatest, whether I have deceived thee. +Farewell." + +He turned his gaze from her and passed slowly on, looking down to the +ground, his hands folded before him. He left her standing in the way, +greatly troubled and not understanding his saying. + +Had she not seen with her eyes how he held Atossa in his arms on that +evil morning in Shushan? Had she not seen how, when he was sent away, he +had written a letter to Atossa and no word to herself? Could these +things which she had seen and known, be untrue? The thought was +horrible--that her whole life had perhaps been wrecked and ruined by a +mistake. And yet there was not any mistake, she repeated to herself. She +had seen; one must believe what one sees. She had heard Atossa's +passionate words of love, and had seen Zoroaster's arms go round her +drooping body; one must believe what one sees and hears and knows! + +But there was a ringing truth in his voice just now when he said: "I lie +not, nor have lied to thee ever." A lie--no, not spoken, but done; and +the lie of an action is greater than the lie of a word. And yet, his +voice sounded true just now in the dusk, and there was something in it, +something like the ring of a far regret. "Ask her whom thou hatest," he +had said. That was Atossa. There was no other woman whom she hated--no +man save him. + +She had many times asked herself whether or no she loved the king. She +felt something for him that she had not felt for Zoroaster. The +passionate enthusiasm of the strong, dark warrior sometimes carried her +away and raised her with it; she loved his manliness, his honesty, his +unchanging constancy of purpose. And yet Zoroaster had had all these, +and more also, though they had shown themselves in a different way. She +looked back and remembered how calm he had always been, how utterly +superior in his wisdom. He seemed scarcely mortal, until he had one day +fallen--and fallen so desperately low in her view, that she loathed the +memory of that feigned calmness and wisdom and parity. For it must have +been feigned. How else could he have put his arms about Atossa, and +taken her head upon his breast, while she sobbed out words of love? + +But if he loved Atossa, she loved him as well. She said so, cried it +aloud upon the terrace where any one might have heard it. Why then had +he left the court, and hidden himself so long in the wilderness? Why, +before going out on his wanderings, had he disguised himself, and gone +and stood where the procession passed, and hissed out a bitter insult as +Nehushta went by? For her sake he had abandoned his brilliant life these +three years, to dwell in the desert, to grow so thin and miserable of +aspect that he looked like an old man. And his hair and beard were +white--she had heard that a man might turn white from sorrow in a day. +Was it grief that had so changed him? Grief to see her wedded to the +king before his eyes? His voice rang so true: "Ask her whom thou +hatest," he had said. In truth she would ask. It was all too +inexplicable, and the sudden thought that she had perhaps wronged him +three long years ago--even the possibility of the thought that seemed so +little possible to her yesterday--wrought strangely in her breast, and +terrified her. She would ask Atossa to her face whether Zoroaster had +loved her. She would tell how she had seen them together upon the +balcony, and heard Atossa's quick, hot words. She would threaten to tell +the king; and if the elder queen refused to answer truth, she would +indeed tell him and put her rival to a bitter shame. + +She walked more quickly upon the smooth path, and her hands wrung each +other, and once she felt the haft of that wicked Indian knife she ever +wore. When she turned back and went up the broad steps of the palace, +the moon was rising above the far misty hills to eastward, and there +were lights beneath the columned portico. She paused and looked back +across the peaceful valley, and far down below, a solitary nightingale +called out a few melancholy notes, and then burst forth into glorious +song. + +Nehushta turned again to go in, and there were tears in her dark eyes, +that had not stood there for many a long day. But she clasped her hands +together, and went forward between the crouching slaves, straight to +Atossa's apartment. It was not usual for any one to gain access to the +eider queen's inner chambers without first obtaining permission, from +Atossa herself, and Nehushta had never been there. They met rarely in +public, and spoke little, though each maintained the appearances of +courtesy; but Atossa's smile was the sweeter of the two. In private they +never saw each other; and the queen's slaves would perhaps have tried +to prevent Nehushta from entering, but her black eyes flashed upon them +in such dire wrath as she saw them before her, that they crouched away +and let her pass on unmolested. + +Atossa sat, as ever at that hour in her toilet-chamber, surrounded by +her tirewomen. The room was larger than the one at Shushan, for she had +caused it to be built after her own plans; but her table was the same as +ever, and upon it stood the broad silver mirror, which she never allowed +to be left behind when she travelled. + +Her magnificent beauty had neither changed nor faded in three years. +Such strength as hers was not to be broken, nor worn out, by the mere +petty annoyances of palace life. She could sustain the constant little +warfare she waged against the king, without even so much as looking +careworn and pale for a moment, though the king himself often looked +dark and weary, and his eyes were heavy with sleeplessness for the +trouble she gave him. Yet he could new determine to rid himself of her, +even when he began to understand the profound badness of her character. +She exercised a certain fascination over him, as a man grows fond of +some beautiful, wicked beast he has half-tamed, though it turn and show +its teeth at him sometimes, and be altogether more of a care than a +pastime. She was so fair and evil that he could not hurt her; it would +have seemed a crime to destroy anything so wondrously made. Moreover, +she could amuse him and make many an hour pass pleasantly when she was +so disposed. + +She was fully attired for the banquet that was to take place late in +the evening, but her women were still about her, and she looked at +herself critically in the mirror, and would have changed the pinning of +her tiara, so that her fair hair should fall forward upon one side, +instead of backwards over her shoulder. She tried the effect of the +change upon her face, and peered into the mirror beneath the bright +light of the tall lamps; when, on a sudden, as she looked, she met the +reflection of two angry dark eyes, and she knew that Nehushta was behind +her. + +She rose to her feet, turning quickly, and the sweep of her long robe +overthrew the light carved chair upon the marble floor. She faced +Nehushta with a cold smile that betrayed surprise at being thus +interrupted in her toilet rather than any dread of the interview. Her +delicate eyebrows arched themselves in something of scorn, but her voice +came low and sweet as ever. + +"It is rarely indeed that the queen Nehushta deigns to visit her +servant," she said. "Had she sent warning of her coming, she would have +been more fittingly received." + +Nehushta stood still before her. She hated that cool, still voice that +choked her like a tightening bow-string about her neck. + +"We have small need of court formalities," answered the Hebrew woman, +shortly. "I desire to speak with you alone upon a matter of importance." + +"I am alone," returned Atossa, seating herself upon the carved chair, +which one of the slaves had instantly set up again, and motioning to +Nehushta to be seated. But Nehushta glanced at the serving-women and +remained standing. + +"You are not alone," she said briefly. + +"They are not women--they are slaves," answered Atossa, with a smile. + +"Will you not send them away?" + +"Why should I?" + +"You need not--I will," returned Nehushta. "Begone, and quickly!" she +added, turning to the little group of women and slave-girls who stood +together, looking on in wonder. At Nehushta's imperious command, they +hurried through the door, and the curtains fell behind them. They knew +Nehushta's power in the palace too well to hesitate to obey her, even in +the presence of their own mistress. + +"Strange ways you have!" exclaimed Atossa, in a low voice. She was +fiercely angry, but there was no change in her face. She dangled a +little chain upon her finger, and tapped the ground with her foot as she +sat. That was all. + +"I am not come here to wrangle with you about your slaves. They will +obey me without wrangling. I met Zoroaster in the gardens an hour +since." + +"By a previous arrangement, of course?" suggested Atossa, with a sneer. +But her clear blue eyes fixed themselves upon Nehushta with a strange +and deadly look. + +"Hold your peace and listen to me," said Nehushta in a fierce, low +voice, and her slender hand stole to the haft of the knife by her side. + +Atossa was a brave woman, false though she was; but she saw that the +Hebrew princess had her in her power--she saw the knife and she saw the +gleam in those black eyes. They were riveted on her face, and she grew +grave and remained silent. + +"Tell me the truth," pursued Nehushta hurriedly. "Did Zoroaster love you +three years ago--when I saw you in his arms upon the terrace the morning +when he came back from Ecbatana?" + +But she little knew the woman with whom she had to deal. Atossa had +found time in that brief moment to calculate her chances of safety. A +weaker woman would have lied; but the fair queen saw that the moment had +come wherein she could reap a rich harvest of vengeance upon her rival, +and she trusted to her coolness and strength to deliver her if Nehushta +actually drew the knife she wore. + +"I loved him," she said slowly. "I love him yet, and I hate you more +than I love him. Do you understand?" + +"Speak--go on!" cried Nehushta, half breathless with anger. + +"I loved him, and I hated you. I hate you still," repeated the queen +slowly and gravely. "The letter I had from him was written to you--but +it was brought to me. Nay--be not so angry, it was very long ago. Of +course you can murder me, if you please--you have me in your power, and +you are but a cowardly Jew, like twenty of my slave-women. I fear you +not. Perhaps you would like to hear the end?" + +Nehushta had come nearer and stood looking down at the beautiful woman, +her arms folded before her. Atossa never stirred as Nehushta approached, +but kept her eye steadily fixed on hers. Nehushta's arms were folded, +and the knife hung below her girdle in its loose sheath. + +Atossa's white arm went suddenly out and laid hold of the haft, and the +keen blue steel flashed out of its scabbard with a sheen like dark +lightning on a summer's evening. + +Nehushta started back as she saw the sharp weapon in her enemy's hand. +But Atossa laughed a low sweet laugh of triumph. + +"You shall hear the end now," she said, holding the knife firmly in her +hand. "You shall not escape hearing the end now, and you shall not +murder me with your Indian poisoner here." She laughed again as she +glanced at the ugly curve of the dagger. "I was talking with Zoroaster," +she continued, "when I saw you upon the stairs, and then--oh, it was so +sweet! I cried out that he should never leave me again, and I threw my +arms about his neck--his lordly neck that you so loved!--and I fell, so +that he had to hold me up. And you saw him. Oh, it was sweet! It was the +sweetest moment of my life when I heard you groan and hurry away and +leave us! It was to hurt you that I did it--that I humbled my +queenliness before him; but I loved him, though--and he, he your lover, +whom you despised then and cast away for this black-faced king of +ours--he thrust me from him, and pushed me off, and drove me weeping to +my chamber, and he said he loved me not, nor wished my love. Ay, that +was bitter, for I was ashamed--I who never was shamed of man or woman. +But there was more sweetness in your torment than bitterness in my +shame. He never knew you were there. He screamed out to you from the +crowd in the procession his parting curse on your unfaithfulness and +went out--but he nearly killed those two strong spearmen who tried to +seize him. How strong he was then, how brave! What a noble lover for any +woman! So tall and delicate and fair with all his strength! He never +knew why you left him--he thought it was to wear the king's purple, to +thrust a bit of gold in your hair! He must have suffered--you have +suffered too--such delicious torture, I have often soothed myself to +sleep with the thought of it. It is very sweet for me to see you lying +there with my wound in your heart. It will rankle long; you cannot get +it out--you are married to the king now, and Zoroaster has turned priest +for love of you. I think even the king would hardly love you if he could +see you now--you look so pale. I will send for the Chaldean +physician--you might die. I should be sorry if you died, you could not +suffer any more then. I could not give up the pleasure of hurting +you--you have no idea how delicious it is. Oh, how I hate you!" + +Atossa rose suddenly to her feet, with flashing eyes. Nehushta, in sheer +horror of such hideous cruelty, had fallen back against the door-post, +and stood grasping the curtain with one hand while the other was pressed +to her heart, as though to control the desperate agony she suffered. Her +face was paler than the dead, and her long, black hair fell forward over +her ghastly cheeks. + +"Shall I tell you more?" Atossa began again. "Should you like to hear +more of the truth? I could tell you how the king----" + +But as she spoke, Nehushta threw up her hands and pressed them to her +throbbing temples; and with a low wail, she turned and fled through the +doorway between the thick curtains, that parted with her weight and fell +together again when she had passed. + +"She will tell the king," said Atossa aloud, when she was gone. "I care +not--but I will keep the knife," she added, laying the keen blade upon +the table, amid the little instruments of her toilet. + +But Nehushta ran fast through the corridors and halls till she came to +her slaves who had waited for her at the entrance to the queen's +apartment. Then she seemed to recollect herself, and slackened her pace, +and went on to her own chambers. But, her women saw her pale face, and +whispered together as they cautiously followed her. + +She was wretched beyond all words. In a moment, her doubts and her fears +had all been realised, and the stain of unfaithfulness had been washed +from the memory of her lover. But it was too late to repent her +hastiness. She had been married to Darius now for nearly three years, +and Zoroaster was a man so changed that she would hardly have recognised +him that evening, had she not known that he was in the palace. He looked +more like the aged Daniel whom he had buried at Ecbatana than like the +lordly warrior of three years ago. She wondered, as she thought of the +sound of his voice in the, garden, how she could ever have doubted him, +and the remembrance of his clear eyes was both bitter and sweet to her. + +She lay upon her silken pillows and wept hot tears for him she had loved +long ago, for him and for herself--most of all for the pain she had +made him suffer, for that bitter agony that had turned his young, fair +locks to snowy white; she wept the tears for him that she could fancy he +must have shed in those long years for her. She buried her face and +sobbed aloud, so that even the black fan-girl who stood waving the long +palm-leaf over her in the dim light of the bedchamber--even the poor +black creature from the farther desert, whom her mistress did not half +believe human, felt pity for the royal sorrow she saw, and took one hand +from the fan to brush the tears from her small red eyes. + +Nehushta's heart was broken, and from that day none saw her smile. In +one hour the whole misery of all possible miseries came upon her, and +bowed her to the ground, and crushed out the life and the light of her +nature. As she lay there, she longed to die, as she had never longed for +anything while she lived, and she would have had small hesitation in +killing the heart that beat with such agonising pain in her breast--saving +that one thought prevented her. She cared not for revenge +any more. What was the life of that cold, cruel thing, the queen, worth, +that by taking it, she could gain comfort? But she felt and knew that, +before she died, she must see Zoroaster once more, and tell him that she +knew all the truth--that she knew he had not deceived her, and that she +implored his forgiveness for the wrong she had done him. He would let +her rest her head upon his breast and weep out her heartful of piteous +sorrow once before she died. And then--the quiet stream of the Araxes +flowed softly, cold and clear, among the rose-gardens below the +palace. The kindly water would take her to its bosom, beneath the +summer's moon, and the nightingales she loved would sing her a gentle +good-night--good-night for ever, while the cool wave flowed over her +weary breast and aching head. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +On the next day, in the cool of the evening, Nehushta walked again in +the garden. But Zoroaster was not there. And for several days Nehushta +came at that hour, and at other hours in the day, but found him not. She +saw him indeed from time to time in public, but she had no opportunity +of speaking with him as she desired. At last, she determined to send for +him, and to see whether he would come, or not. + +She went out, attended only by two slaves; the one bearing a fan and the +other a small carpet and a cushion--black women from the southern parts +of Syria, towards Egypt, who would not understand the high Persian she +would be likely to speak with Zoroaster, though her own Hebrew tongue +was intelligible to them. When she reached a quiet spot, where one of +the walks ended suddenly in a little circle among the rose-trees, far +down from the palace, she had her carpet spread, and her cushion was +placed upon it, and she wearily sat down. The fan-girl began to ply her +palm-leaf, as much to cool the heated summer air as to drive away the +swarms of tiny gnats which abounded in the garden. Nehushta rested upon +one elbow, her feet drawn together upon the carpet of dark soft colours +and waited a few minutes as though in thought. At last she seemed to +have decided, and turned to the slave who had brought her cushion, as +she stood at a little distance, motionless, her hands folded and hidden +under the thickness of the broad sash that girded her tunic at the +waist. + +"Go thou," said the queen, "and seek out the high priest Zoroaster, and +bring him hither quickly." + +The black woman turned and ran like a deer down the narrow path, +disappearing in a moment amongst the shrubbery. + +The breeze of the swinging fan blew softly on Nehushta's pale face and +stirred the locks of heavy hair that fell from her tiara about her +shoulders. Her eyes were half closed as she leaned back, and her lips +were parted in a weary look of weakness that was new to her. Nearly an +hour passed and the sun sank low, but Nehushta hardly stirred from her +position. + +It seemed very long before she heard steps upon the walk--the quick soft +step of the slave-woman running before, barefooted and fleet, and +presently the heavier tread of a man's leather shoe. The slave stopped +at the entrance to the little circle of rose-trees, and a moment later, +Zoroaster strode forward, and stood still and made a deep obeisance, a +few steps from Nehushta. + +"Forgive me that I sent for thee, Zoroaster," said the queen in quiet +tones. But, as she spoke, a slight blush overspread her face, and +relieved her deadly pallor. "Forgive me--I have somewhat to say which +thou must hear." + +Zoroaster remained standing before her as she spoke, and his luminous +eyes rested upon her quietly. + +"I wronged thee three years ago, Zoroaster," said the queen in a low +voice, but looking up at him. "I pray thee, forgive me--I knew not what +I did." + +"I forgave thee long ago," answered the high priest. + +"I did thee a bitter wrong--but the wrong I did myself was even greater. +I never knew till I went and asked--her!" At the thought of Atossa, the +Hebrew woman's eyes flashed fire, and her small fingers clenched upon +her palm. But, in an instant, her sad, weary look returned. + +"That is all--if you forgive me," she said, and turned her head away. It +seemed to her that there was nothing more to be said. He did not love +her--he was far beyond love. + +"Now, by Ahura Mazda, I have indeed forgiven thee. The blessing of the +All-Wise be upon thee!" Zoroaster bent again, as though to take his +leave, and he would have gone from her. + +But when she heard his first footsteps, Nehushta raised herself a little +and turned quickly towards him. It seemed as though the only light she +knew were departing from her day. + +"You loved me once," she said, and stopped, with an appealing look on +her pale face. It was very, weak of her; but oh! she was far spent with +sorrow and grief. Zoroaster paused, and looked back upon her, very +calmly, very gently. + +"Ay--I loved you once--but not now. There is no more love in the earth +for me. But I bless you for the love you gave me." + +"I loved you so well," said Nehushta. "I love you still," she added, +suddenly raising herself and gazing on him with a wild look in her eyes. +"Oh, I love you still!" she cried passionately. "I thought I had put you +away--forgotten you--trodden out your memory that I so hated I could not +bear to hear your name! Ah! why did I do it, miserable woman that I am! +I love you now--I love you--I love you with my whole heart--and it is +too late!" She fell back upon her cushion, and covered her face with +her hands, and her breast heaved with passionate, tearless sobbing. + +Zoroaster stood still, and a deep melancholy came over his beautiful, +ethereal face. No regret stirred his breast, no touch of the love that +had been waked his heart that slept for ever in the peace of the higher +life. He would not have changed from himself to the young lover of three +years ago, if he had been able. But he stood calm and sorrowful, as an +angel from heaven gazing on the grief of the world--his thoughts full +of sympathy for the pains of men, his soul still breathing the painless +peace of the outer firmament whence he had come and whither he would +return. + +"Nehushta," he said at last, seeing that her sobbing did not cease, "it +is not meet that you should thus weep for anything that is past. Be +comforted; the years of life are few, and you are one of the great ones +of the earth. It is needful that all should suffer. Forget not that +although your heart be heavy, you are a queen, and must bear yourself as +a queen. Take your life strongly in your hands and live it. The end is +not far and your peace is at hand." + +Nehushta looked up suddenly and grew very grave as he spoke. Her heavy +eyes rested on his, and she sighed--but the sigh was still broken, by +the trembling of her past sobs. + +"You, who are a priest and a prophet," she said,--"you, who read the +heaven as it were a book--tell me, Zoroaster, is it not far? Shall we +meet beyond the stars, as you used to tell me--so long ago?" + +"It is not far," he answered, and a gentle smile illuminated his pale +face. "Take courage--for truly it is not far." + +He gazed into her eyes for a moment, and it seemed as though some of +that steadfast light penetrated into her soul, for as he turned and went +his way among the roses, a look of peace descended on her tired face, +and she fell back upon her cushion and closed her eyes, and let the +breeze of the palm-fan play over her wan cheeks and through her heavy +hair. + +But Zoroaster returned into the palace, and he was very thoughtful. He +had many duties to perform, besides the daily evening sacrifice in the +temple, for Darius consulted him constantly upon many matters connected +with the state; and on every occasion Zoroaster's keen foresight and +knowledge of men found constant exercise in the development of the laws +and statutes Darius was forming for his consolidated kingdom. First of +all, the question of religion seemed to him of paramount importance; and +here Zoroaster displayed all his great powers of organisation, as well +as the true and just ideas he held upon the subject. Himself an ascetic +mystic, he foresaw the danger to others of attempting to pursue the same +course, or even of founding a system of mystical study. The object of +mankind must be the welfare of mankind, and a set of priests who should +shut themselves off from their fellow-men to pursue esoteric studies and +to acquire knowledge beyond the reach of common humanity, must +necessarily forget humanity itself in their effort to escape from it. +The only possible scheme upon which a religion for the world could be +based--especially for such a world as the empire of Darius--must be one +where the broad principle of common good living stood foremost, and +where the good of all humanity should be the good of each man's soul. + +The vast influence of Zoroaster's name grew day by day, as from the +palace of Stakhar he sent forth priests to the various provinces, full +of his own ideas, bearing with them a simple form of worship and a rigid +rule of life, which the iron laws of Darius began at once to enforce to +the letter. The vast body of existing hymns, of which many were by no +means distinctly Mazdayashnian, were reduced to a limited number +containing the best and purest; and the multifarious mass of conflicting +caste practices, partly imported from India, and partly inherited by the +pure Persians from the Aryan home in Sogdiana, was simplified and +reduced to a plain rule. The endless rules of purification were cut down +to simple measures of health; the varying practices in regard to the +disposal of the dead were all done away with by a great royal edict +commanding the building of Dakhmas, or towers of death, all over the +kingdom; within which the dead were laid by persons appointed for the +purpose, and which were cleansed by them, at stated intervals. Severe +measures were taken to prevent the destruction of cattle, for there were +evident signs of the decrease of the beasts of the field in consequence +of the many internal wars that had waged of late; and special laws were +provided for the safety of dogs, which were regarded, for all reasons, +as the most valuable companions of men in those times, as a means of +protection to the flocks in the wilderness, and as the scavengers and +cleansers of the great cities. Human life was protected by the most +rigorous laws, and the utmost attention was given to providing for the +treatment of women of all classes. It would have been impossible to +conceive a system better fitted to develop the resources of a +semi-pastoral country, to preserve peace and to provide for the +increasing wants and the public health of a multiplying people. + +As for the religious rites, they assumed a form and a character which +made them seem like simplicity itself by the side of the former systems; +and which, although somewhat complicated by the additions and +alterations of a later and more superstitious, generation, have still +maintained the noble and honourable characteristics imparted to them by +the great reformer and compiler of the Mazdayashnian religion. + +The days flew quickly by, and Zoroaster's power grew apace. It was as +though the whole court and kingdom had been but waiting for him to come +and be the representative of wisdom and justice beside the conquering +king, who had in so short a time reduced so many revolutions and fought +so many fields in the consolidation of his empire. Zoroaster laid hold +of all the existing difficulties with a master-hand. His years of +retirement seemed to have given him the accumulated force of many men, +and the effect of his wise measures was quickly felt in every quarter of +the provinces; while his words went forth like fire in the mouths of the +priests he sent from Stakhar. He had that strange and rare gift, whereby +a man inspires in his followers the profoundest confidence and the +greatest energy to the performance of his will. He would have overthrown +a world had he found himself resisted and oppressed, but every one of +his statutes and utterances was backed by the royal arms and enforced by +decrees against which there was no appeal. In a few months his name was +spoken wherever the Persian rule was felt, and spoken everywhere with a +high reverence; in which there was no fear mixed, such as people felt +when they mentioned the Great King, and added quickly: "May he live for +ever!" + +In a few months the reform was complete, and the half-clad ascetic had +risen by his own wisdom and by the power of circumstances into the +chiefest position in all Persia. Loaded with dignities, treated as the +next to the Great King in all things, wearing the royal chain of office +over his white priest's robes, and sitting at the right hand of Darius +at the feast, Zoroaster nevertheless excited no envy among the +courtiers, nor encroached in any way upon their privileges. The few men +whom Darius trusted were indeed rarely at Stakhar,--the princes who had +conspired against Smerdis, and Hydarnes and a few of the chief officers +of the army,--they were mostly in the various provinces, in command of +troops and fortresses, actively employed in enforcing the measures the +king was framing with Zoroaster, and which were to work such great +changes in the destinies of the empire. But when any of the princes or +generals were summoned to the court by the king and learned to know what +manner of man this Zoroaster was, they began to love him and to honour +him also, as all those did who were near him. And they went away, saying +that never king had so wise and just a counsellor as he was, nor one so +worthy of trust in the smallest as in the greatest things. + +But the two queens watched him, and watched his growing power, with +different feelings. Nehushta scarcely ever spoke to him, but gazed at +him from her sad eyes when none saw her; pondering over his prophecy +that foretold the end so near at hand. She had a pride in seeing her old +lover the strongest in the whole land, holding the destinies of the +kingdom as in a balance; and it was a secret consolation to her to know +that he had been faithful to her after all, and that it was for her sake +that he had withdrawn into the desert and given himself to those +meditations from which he had only issued to enjoy the highest power. +And as she looked at him, she saw how he was much changed, and it hardly +seemed as though in his body he were the same man she had so loved. Only +when he spoke, and she heard the even, musical tones of his commanding +voice, she sometimes felt the blood rise to her cheeks with the longing +to hear once more some word of tender love, such as he had been used to +speak to her. But though he often looked at her and greeted her ever +kindly, his quiet, luminous eyes changed not when they gazed on her, nor +was there any warmer touch of colour in the waxen whiteness of his face. +His youth was utterly gone, as the golden light had faded from his hair. +He was not like an old man--he was hardly like a man at all; but rather +like some beautiful, strange angel from another world, who moved among +men and spoke with them, but was not of them. She seemed to look upon a +memory, to love the shadow cast on earth by a being that was gone. But +she loved the memory and the shadow well, and month by month, as she +gazed, she grew more wan and weary. + +It would not have been like Darius to take any notice of a trouble that +did not present itself palpably before him and demand his attention. +Nehushta scarcely ever spoke of Zoroaster, and when the king mentioned +him to her, it was always in connection with affairs of state. She +seemed cold and indifferent, and the hot-blooded soldier monarch no +longer looked on Zoroaster as a possible rival. He had white hair--he +was therefore an old man, out of all questions of love. But Darius was +glad that the Hebrew queen never referred to former times, nor ever +seemed to regret her old lover. Had he known of that night meeting in +Atossa's toilet chamber, and of what Atossa had said then, his fury +would probably have had no bounds. But he never knew. Nehushta was too +utterly broken-hearted by the blow she had received to desire vengeance, +and though she quietly scorned all intercourse with the woman who had +injured her, she cared not to tell the king of the injury. It was too +late. Had she known of the cruel deception that had been practised on +her, one hour before she had married Darius, Atossa would have been in +her grave these three years, and Nehushta would not have been queen. But +the king knew none of these things, and rejoiced daily in the wisdom of +his chief counsellor and in the favour Auramazda had shown in sending +him such a man in his need. + +Meanwhile, Atossa's hatred grew apace. She saw with anger that her power +of tormenting Nehushta was gone from her, that the spirit she had loved +to torture was broken beyond all sensibility, and that the man who had +scorned her love was grown greater than she. Against his wisdom and the +king's activity, she could do little, and her strength seemed to spend +itself in vain. Darius laughed mercilessly at her cunning objections to +Zoroaster's reforms; and Zoroaster himself eyed hear coldly, and passed +her by in silence when they met. + +She bethought herself of some scheme whereby to destroy Zoroaster's +power by a sudden and violent shock; and for a time, she affected at +more than usual serenity of manner, and her smile was sweeter than ever. +If it were possible, she thought, to attract the king's attention and +forces to some distant point, it would not be a difficult matter to +produce a sudden rising or disturbance in Stakhar, situated as the place +was upon the very extreme border of the kingdom, within a few hours' +march across the hills from the uncivilised desert country, which was +infested at that time with hostile and turbulent tribes. She had a +certain number of faithful retainers at her command still, whom she +could employ as emissaries in both directions, and in spite of the scene +that had taken place at Shushan when Phraortes was brought to her by the +king, she knew she could still command his services for a revolution. +He was a Magian at heart, and hated the existing monarchy. He was rich +and powerful, and unboundedly vain--he could easily be prevailed upon to +accept the principality of Media as a reward for helping to destroy the +Persian kingdom; and indeed the matter had been discussed between him +and the queen long ago. + +Atossa revolved her scheme in her mind most carefully for two whole +months, and at last she resolved to act. Eluding all vigilance of the +king, and laughing to herself at the folly of Darius and Zoroaster in +allowing her such liberty, she succeeded without much trouble in +despatching a letter to Phraortes, inquiring whether her affairs were +now in such a prosperous condition as to admit of their being extended. + +On the other hand, she sent a black slave she owned, with gifts, into +the country of the barbarian tribes beyond the hills, to discover +whether they could be easily tempted. This man she bribed with the +promise of freedom and rich possessions, to undertake the dangerous +mission. She knew him to be faithful, and able to perform the part he +was to play. + +In less than two months Phraortes sent a reply, wherein he stated that +the queen's affairs were so prosperous that they might with safety be +extended as she desired, and that he was ready to undertake any +improvements provided she sent him the necessary directions and +instructions. + +The slave returned from the land of the dwellers in tents, with the +information that they were numerous as the sands of the sea, riding like +the whirlwinds across the desert, keen as a race of eagles for prey, +devouring as locusts spreading over a field of corn, and greedy as +jackals upon the track of a wounded antelope. Nothing but the terror of +the Great King's name restrained them within their boundaries; which +they would leave at a moment's notice, as allies of any one who would +pay them. They dwelt mostly beyond the desert to eastward in the low +hill country; and they shaved their beards and slept with their horses +in their tents. They were more horrible to look upon than the devils of +the mountains, and fiercer than wolves upon the mountain paths. + +Allowing for the imagery of her slave's account, Atossa comprehended +that the people described could be easily excited to make a hostile +descent upon the southern part of the kingdom, and notably upon the +unprotected region about Stakhar, where the fortress could afford +shelter to a handful of troops and fugitives, but could in no wise +defend the whole of the fertile district from a hostile incursion. + +Atossa spent much time in calculating the distance from the palace to +the fortress, and she came to the conclusion that a body of persons +moving with some encumbrance might easily reach the stronghold in half a +day. Her plan was a simple one, and easy of execution; though there was +no limit to the evil results its success might have upon the kingdom. + +She intended that a revolution should break out in Media, not under the +leadership of Phraortes, lest she herself should perish, having been +already suspected of complicity with him. But a man could be found--some +tool of her powerful agent, who could be readily induced to set himself +up as a pretender to the principality of the province, and he could +easily be crushed at a later period by Phraortes, who would naturally +furnish the money and supplies for the insurrection. + +As soon as the news reached Stakhar, Darius would, in all probability, +set out for Media in haste to arrive at the scene of the disturbance. He +would probably leave Zoroaster behind to manage the affairs of state, +which had centred in Stakhar during the last year and more. If, however, +he took him with him, and left the court to follow on as far as Shushan, +Atossa could easily cause an incursion of the barbarous tribes from the +desert. The people of the south would find themselves abandoned by the +king, and would rise against him, and Atossa could easily seize the +power. If Zoroaster remained behind, the best plan would be to let the +barbarians take their own course and destroy him. Separated from any +armed force of magnitude sufficient to cope with a sudden invasion, he +would surely fall in the struggle, or take refuge in an ignominious +flight. With the boldness of her nature, Atossa trusted to circumstances +to provide her with an easy escape for herself; and in the last +instance, she trusted, as she had ever done, to her marvellous beauty to +save her from harm. To her beauty alone she owed her escape from many a +fit of murderous anger in the time of Cambyses, and to her beauty she +owed her salvation when Darius found her at Shushan, the wife and +accomplice of the impostor Smerdis. She might again save herself by that +means, if by no other, should she, by any mischance, fall into the hands +of the barbarians. But she was determined to overthrow Zoroaster, even +if she had to destroy her husband's kingdom in the effort. It was a bold +and simple plan, and she doubted not of being successful. + +During the months while she was planning these things, she was very calm +and placid; her eyes met Zoroaster's with a frank and friendly glance +that would have disarmed one less completely convinced of her badness; +and her smile never failed the king when he looked for it. She bore his +jests with unfailing equanimity and gentleness, for she felt that she +should not have to bear them long. Even to Nehushta she gave an +occasional glance as though of hurt sympathy--a look that seemed to say +to the world that she regretted the Hebrew queen's sullen temper and +moody ways, so different from her own, but regarded them all the while +as the outward manifestation of some sickness, for which she was to be +pitied rather than blamed. + +But, as the time sped, her heart grew more and more glad, for the end +was at hand, and there was a smell of death in the air of the sweet +rose-valley. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +Once more the spring months had come, and the fields grew green and the +trees put forth their leaves. Four years had passed since Daniel had +died in Ecbatana, leaving his legacy of wisdom to Zoroaster; and almost +a year had gone by since Zoroaster had returned to the court at +Stakhar. The time had sped very swiftly, except for Nehushta, whose life +was heavy with a great weariness and her eyes hollow with suffering +sleeplessness. She was not always the same, saving that she was always +unhappy. There were days when she was resigned to her lot and merely +hoped that it would soon be over; and she wondered how it was that she +did not slip out of the gardens at evening, and go and sink her care and +her great sorrow in the cool waves of the Araxes, far down below. But +then the thought came over her that she must see his face once more; and +it was always once more, so that the last time never came. And again, +there were days when she hoped all things, madly, indiscriminately, +without sequence--the king might die, Zoroaster might again love her, +all might be well. But the mood of a hope that is senseless is very +fleet, and despair follows close in its footsteps. Nehushta grew each +time more sad, as she grew more certain that for her there was no hope. + +At least it seemed as though Atossa had given up loving Zoroaster and +thought no more of him than of another. Indeed Atossa seemed more +anxious to please the king than formerly, in proportion as Darius seemed +less easily pleased by her. But over all, Zoroaster's supremacy was felt +in the palace, and though he was never known to be angry with any one, +he was more feared than the fierce king himself, for his calm clear eyes +were hard to meet and the words that fell from his lips had in them the +ring of fate. Moreover, he was known and his power was dreaded from one +end of the kingdom to the other, and his name was like the king's +signet, which sealed all things, and there was no appeal. + +Upon a fair morning in the spring-time, when the sun was shining outside +upon the roses still wet with dew, the king sat in an inner hall, half +lying upon a broad couch, on which the warm rays of the sun fell through +an upper window. He was watching with absorbed attention the tricks of +an Indian juggler who had lately arrived at the court, and whom he had +summoned that morning to amuse a leisure hour, for when the king was not +actively engaged in business, or fighting, he loved some amusement, +being of a restless temper and mind that needed constant occupation. + +Atossa sat near him, upon a carved chair, turning over and over in her +fingers a string of pearls as she gazed at the performances of the +juggler. Two spearmen, clad in blue and scarlet and gold, stood +motionless by the door, and Darius and Atossa watched the sleight-handed +Indian alone. + +The man tossed a knife into the air and caught it, then two, then three, +increasing the number in rapid succession till a score of bright blades +made a shining circle in the air as he quickly tossed them up and passed +them from hand to hand and tossed them again. Darius laughed at the +man's skill, and looked up at the queen. + +"You remind me of that fellow," said Darius. + +"The king is very gracious to his handmaiden," answered Atossa, smiling, +"I think I am less skilful, but more fair." + +"You are fairer, it is true," returned the king; "but as for your skill, +I know not. You seem always to be playing with knives, but you never +wound yourself any more than he does." + +The queen looked keenly at Darius, but her lips smiled gently. The +thought crossed her mind that the king perhaps knew something of what +had passed between her and Nehushta nearly a year before, with regard to +a certain Indian dagger. The knives the juggler tossed in the air +reminded her of it by their shape. But the king laughed gaily and she +answered without hesitation: + +"I would it were true, for then I could be not only the king's wife, but +the king's juggler!" + +"I meant not so," laughed Darius. "The two would hardly suit one +another." + +"And yet, I need more skill than this Indian fellow, to be the king's +wife," answered the queen slowly. + +"Said I not so?" + +"Nay--but you meant not so," replied Atossa, looking down. + +"What I say, I mean," he returned. "You need all the fairness of your +face to conceal the evil in your heart, as this man needs all his skill +in handling those sharp knives, that would cut off his fingers if, +unawares, he touched the wrong edge of them." + +"I conceal nothing," said the queen, with a light laugh. "The king has +a thousand eyes--how should I conceal anything from him?" + +"That is a question which I constantly ask myself," answered Darius. +"And yet, I often think I know your thoughts less well than those of the +black girl who fans you when you are hot, and whose attention is +honestly concentrated upon keeping the flies from your face--or of +yonder stolid spearmen at the door, who watch us, and honestly wish they +were kings and queens, to lie all day upon a silken couch, and watch the +tricks of a paid conjurer." + +As Darius spoke, the guards he glanced at turned suddenly and faced each +other, standing on each side of the doorway, and brought their heavy +spears to the ground with a ringing noise. In a moment the tall, thin +figure of Zoroaster, in his white robes, appeared between them. He +stopped respectfully at the threshold, waiting for the king to notice +him, for, in spite of his power and high rank, he chose to maintain +rigidly the formalities of the court. + +Darius made a sign and the juggler caught his whirling knives, one after +the other, and thrust them into his bag, and withdrew. + +"Hail, Zoroaster!" said the king. "Come near and sit beside me, and tell +me your business." + +Zoroaster came forward and made a salutation, but he remained standing, +as though the matter on which he came were urgent. + +"Hail, king, and live for ever!" he said. "I am a bearer of evil news. A +rider has come speeding from Ecbatana, escaped from the confusion. Media +has revolted, and the king's guards are besieged within the fortress of +Ecbatana." + +Darius sat upright upon the edge of his couch; the knotted veins upon +his temples swelled with sudden anger and his brow flushed darkly. + +"Doubtless it is Phraortes who has set himself up as king," he said. +Then, suddenly and fiercely, he turned upon Atossa. "Now is your hour +come," he cried in uncontrollable anger. "You shall surely die this day, +for you have done this, and the powers of evil shall have your soul, +which is of them, and of none other." + +Atossa, for the first time in her whole life, turned pale to the lips +and trembled, for she already seemed to taste death in the air. But even +then, her boldness did not desert her, and she rose to her feet with a +stateliness and a calmness that almost awed the king's anger to silence. + +"Slay me if thou wilt," she said in a low voice, but firmly. "I am +innocent of this deed." The great lie fell from her lips with a calmness +that a martyr might have envied. But Zoroaster stepped between her and +the king. As he passed her, his clear, calm eyes met hers for a moment. +He read in her face the fear of death, and he pitied her. + +"Let the king hear me," he said. "It is not Phraortes who has headed the +revolt, and it is told me that Phraortes has fled from Ecbatana. Let the +king send forth his armies and subdue the rebels, and let this woman go; +for the fear of death is upon her and it may be that she has not sinned +in this matter. And if she have indeed sinned, will the king make war +upon women, or redden his hands with the blood of his own wife?" + +"You speak as a priest--I feel as a man," returned the king, savagely. +"This woman has deserved death many times--let her die. So shall we be +free of her." + +"It is not lawful to do this thing," returned Zoroaster coldly, and his +glance rested upon the angry face of Darius, as he spoke, and seemed to +subdue his furious wrath. "The king cannot know whether she have +deserved death or not, until he have the rebels of Ecbatana before him. +Moreover, the blood of a woman is a perpetual shame to the man who has +shed it." + +The king seemed to waver, and Atossa, who watched him keenly, understood +that the moment had come in which she might herself make an appeal to +him. In the suddenness of the situation she had time to ask herself why +Zoroaster, whom she had so bitterly injured, should intercede for her. +She could not understand his nobility of soul, and she feared some trap, +into which she should fall by and by. But, meanwhile, she chose to +appeal to the king's mercy herself, lest she should feel that she owed +her preservation wholly to Zoroaster. It was a bold thought, worthy of a +woman of her strength, in a moment of supreme danger. + +With a quick movement she tore the tiara from her head and let it fall +upon the floor. The mass of her silken hair fell all about her like a +vesture of gold, and she threw herself at the king's feet, embracing his +knees with a passionate gesture of appeal. Her face was very pale, and +the beauty of it seemed to grow by the unnatural lack of colour, while +her soft blue eyes looked up into the king's face with such an +expression of imploring supplication that he was fain to acknowledge to +himself that she moved his heart, for she had never looked so fair +before. She spoke no word, but held his knees, and as she gazed, two +beautiful great tears rolled slowly from under her eyelids, and trembled +upon her pale, soft cheeks, and her warm, quick breath went up to his +face. + +Darius tried to push her from him, but she would not go, and he was +forced to look at her, and his anger melted, and he smiled somewhat +grimly, though his brows were bent. + +"Go to," he said, "I jested. It is impossible for a man to slay anything +so beautiful as you." + +Atossa's colour returned to her cheeks, and bending down, she kissed the +king's knees and his hands, and her golden hair fell all about her and +upon the king's lap. But Darius rose impatiently, and left her kneeling +by the couch. He was already angry with himself for having forgiven her, +and he hated his own weakness bitterly. + +"I will myself go hence at once with the guards, and I will take half +the force from the fortress of Stakhar and go to Shushan, and thence, +with the army that is there, I will be in Ecbatana in a few days. And I +will utterly crush out these rebels who speak lies and do not +acknowledge me. Remain here, Zoroaster, and govern this province until I +return in triumph." + +Darius glanced once more at Atossa, who lay by the couch, half upon it +and half upon the floor, seemingly dazed at what had occurred; and then +he turned upon his heel and strode out of the room between the two +spearmen of the guard, who raised their weapons as he passed, and +followed him with a quick, rhythmical tread down the broad corridor +outside. + +Zoroaster was left alone with the queen. + +As soon as Darius was gone, Atossa rose to her feet, and with all +possible calmness proceeded to rearrange her disordered hair and to +place her head-dress upon her head. Zoroaster stood and watched her; her +hand trembled a little, but she seemed otherwise unmoved by what had +occurred. She glanced up at him from under her eyelids as she stood with +her head bent down and her hands raised, to arrange her hair. + +"Why did you beg the king to spare my life?" she asked. "You, of all +men, must wish me dead." + +"I do not wish you dead," he answered coldly. "You have yet much evil to +do in the world, but it will not be all evil. Neither did I need to +intercede for you. Your time is not come, and though the king's hand +were raised to strike you, it would not fall upon you, for you are fated +to accomplish many things." + +"Do you not hate me, Zoroaster?" + +It was one of the queen's chief characteristics that she never attempted +concealment when it could be of no use, and in such cases affected an +almost brutal frankness. She almost laughed as she asked the +question--it seemed so foolish, and yet she asked it. + +"I do not hate you," answered the priest. "You are beneath hatred." + +"And I presume you are far above it?" she said very scornfully, and eyed +him in silence for a moment. "You are a poor creature," she pursued, +presently. "I heartily despise you. You suffered yourself to be deceived +by a mere trick; you let the woman you loved go from you without an +effort to keep her. You might have been a queen's lover, and you +despised her. And now, when you could have the woman who did you a +mortal injury be led forth to death before your eyes, you interceded for +her and saved her life. You are a fool. I despise you." + +"I rejoice that you do," returned Zoroaster coldly. "I would not have +your admiration, if I might be paid for receiving it with the whole +world and the wisdom thereof." + +"Not even if you might have for your wife the woman you loved in your +poor, insipid way--but you loved her nevertheless? She is pale and +sorrowful, poor creature; she haunts the gardens like the shadow of +death; she wearies the king with her wan face. She is eating her heart +out for you--the king took her from you, you could take her from him +to-morrow, if you pleased. The greater your folly, because you do not. +As for her, her foolishness is such that she would follow you to the +ends of the earth--poor girl! she little knows what a pale, wretched, +sapless thing you have in your breast for a heart." + +But Zoroaster gazed calmly at the queen in quiet scorn at her scoffing. + +"Think you that the sun is obscured, because you can draw yonder curtain +before your window and keep out his rays?" he asked. "Think you that the +children of light feel pain because the children of darkness say in +their ignorance that there is no light?" + +"You speak in parables--having nothing plain to say," returned the +queen, thrusting a golden pin through her hair at the back and through +the folds of her linen tiara. But she felt Zoroaster's eyes upon her, +and looking up, she was fascinated by the strange light in them. She +strove to look away from him, but could not. Suddenly her heart sank +within her. She had heard of Indian charmers and of Chaldean +necromancers and wise men, who could perform wonders and slay their +enemies with a glance. She struggled to take her eyes from his, but it +was of no use. The subtle power of the universal agent had got hold upon +her, and she was riveted to the spot so long as he kept his eyes upon +her. He spoke again, and his voice seemed to come to her with a +deafening metallic force, as though it vibrated to her very brain. + +"You may scoff at me; shield yourself from me, if you can," said +Zoroaster. "Lift one hand, if you are able--make one step from me, if +you have the strength. You cannot; you are altogether in my power. If I +would, I could kill you as you stand, and there would be no mark of +violence upon you, that a man should be able to say you were slain. You +boast of your strength and power. See, you follow the motion of my hand, +as a dog would. See, you kneel before me, and prostrate yourself in the +dust at my feet, at my bidding. Lie there, and think well whether you +are able to scoff any more. You kneeled to the king of your own will; +you kneel to me at mine, and though you had the strength of a hundred +men, you must kneel there till I bid you rise." + +The queen was wholly under the influence of the terrible power +Zoroaster possessed. She was no more able to resist his will than a +drowning man can resist the swift torrent that bears him down to his +death. She lay at the priest's feet, helpless and nerveless. He gazed at +her for a moment as she crouched before him. + +"Rise," he said, "go your way, and remember me." + +Relieved from the force of the subtle influence he projected, Atossa +sprang to her feet and staggered back a few paces, till she fell upon +the couch. + +"What manner of man art thou?" she said, staring wildly before her, as +though recovering from some heavy blow that had stunned her. + +But she saw Zoroaster's white robes disappear through the door, even +while the words were on her lips, and she sank back in stupefaction upon +the cushions of the couch. + +Meanwhile the trumpets sounded in the courts of the palace and the +guards were marshalled out at the king's command. Messengers mounted and +rode furiously up the valley to the fortress, to warn the troops there +to make ready for the march; and before the sun reached the meridian, +Darius was on horseback, in his armour, at the foot of the great +staircase. The blazing noonday light shone upon his polished helmet and +on the golden wings that stood out on either side of it, and the hot +rays were sent flashing back from his gilded harness, and from the broad +scales of his horse's armour. + +The slaves of the palace stood in long ranks before the columns of the +portico and upon the broad stairs on each side, and Zoroaster stood on +the lowest step, attended by a score of his priests, to receive the +king's last instructions. + +"I go forth, and in two months I will return in triumph," said Darius. +"Meanwhile keep thou the government in thy hand, and let not the laws be +relaxed because the king is not here. Let the sacrifice be performed +daily in the temple, and let all things proceed as though I myself were +present. I will not that petty strifes arise because I am away. There +shall be peace--peace--peace forever throughout my kingdom, though I +shed much blood to obtain it. And all the people who are evildoers and +makers of strife and sedition shall tremble at the name of Darius, the +king of kings, and of Zoroaster, the high priest of the All-Wise. In +peace I leave you, to cause peace whither I go; and in peace I will come +again to you. Farewell, Zoroaster, truest friend and wisest counsellor; +in thy keeping I leave all things. Take thou the signet and bear it +wisely till I come." + +Zoroaster received the royal ring and bowed a low obeisance. Then Darius +pressed his knees to his horse's sides and the noble steed sprang +forward upon the straight, broad road, like an arrow from a bow. The +mounted guards grasped their spears and gathered their bridles in their +hands and followed swiftly, four and four, shoulder to shoulder, and +knee to knee, their bronze cuirasses and polished helmets blazing in the +noonday sun and dashing as they galloped on; and in a moment there was +nothing seen of the royal guard but a tossing wave of light far up the +valley; and the white dust, that had risen, as they plunged forward, +settled slowly in the still, hot air upon the roses and shrubs that hung +over the enclosure of the garden at the foot of the broad staircase. + +Zoroaster gazed for a moment on the track of the swift warriors; then +went up the steps, followed by his priests, and entered the palace. + +Atossa and Nehushta had watched the departure of the king from their +upper windows, at the opposite ends of the building, from behind the +gilded lattices. Atossa had recovered somewhat from the astonishment and +fear that had taken possession of her when she had found herself under +Zoroaster's strange influence, and as she saw Darius ride away, while +Zoroaster remained standing upon the steps, her courage rose. She +resolved that nothing should induce her again to expose herself to the +chief priest's unearthly power, and she laughed to herself as she +thought that she might yet destroy him, and free herself from him for +ever. She wondered how she could ever have given a thought of love to +such a man, and she summoned her black slave, and sent him upon his last +errand, by which he was to obtain his freedom. + +But Nehushta gazed sadly after the galloping guards, and her eye strove +to distinguish the king's crest before the others, till all was mingled +in the distance, in an indiscriminate reflection of moving light, and +then lost to view altogether in the rising dust. Whether she loved him +truly, or loved him not, he had been true and kind to her, and had +rested his dark head upon her shoulder that very morning before he went, +and had told her that, of all living women, he loved her best. But she +had felt a quick sting of pain in her heart, because she knew that she +would give her life to lie for one short hour on Zoroaster's breast and +sob out all her sorrow and die. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +Four days after the king's departure, Nehushta was wandering in the +gardens as the sun was going down, according to her daily custom. There +was a place she loved well--a spot where the path widened to a circle, +round which the roses grew, thick and fragrant with the breath of the +coming summer, and soft green shrubs and climbing things that twisted +their tender arms about the myrtle trees. The hedge was so high that it +cut off all view of the gardens beyond, and only the black north-western +hills could just be seen above the mass of shrubbery; beyond the +mountains and all over the sky, the glow of the setting sun spread like +a rosy veil; and the light tinged the crests of the dark hills and +turned the myrtle leaves to a strange colour, and gilded the highest +roses to a deep red gold. + +The birds were all singing their evening song in loud, happy chorus, as +only Eastern birds can sing; the air was warm and still, and the tiny +gnats chased each other with lightning quickness in hazy swarms +overhead, in the reflected glow. + +Nehushta loved the little open space, for it was there that, a year ago, +she had sent for Zoroaster to come to her that she might tell him she +knew the truth at last. She stood still and listened to the singing of +the birds, gazing upwards at the glowing sky, where the red was fast +turning to purple; she breathed in the warm air and sighed softly; +wishing, as she wished every night, that the sunset might fade to +darkness, and there might be no morning for her any more. + +She had lived almost entirely alone since Darius had gone to Shushan; +she avoided Atossa, and she made no effort to see Zoroaster, who was +entirely absorbed by the management of the affairs of the state. In the +king's absence there were no banquets, as there used to be when he was +in the palace, and the two queens were free to lead whatever life seemed +best to them, independently of each other and of the courtiers. Atossa +had chosen to shut herself up in the seclusion of her own apartments, +and Nehushta rarely left her own part of the palace until the evening. +But when the sun was low, she loved to linger among the roses in the +garden, till the bright shield of the moon was high in the east, or till +the faint stars burned in their full splendour, and the nightingales +began to call and trill their melancholy song from end to end of the +sweet valley. + +So she stood on this evening, looking up into the sky, and her slaves +waited her pleasure at a little distance. But while she gazed, she heard +quick steps along the walk, and the slave-women sprang aside to let some +one pass. Nehushta turned and found herself face to face with Atossa, +who stood before her, wrapped in a dark mantle, a white veil of Indian +gauze wound about her head, and half-concealing her face. It was a year +since they had met in private, and Nehushta drew herself suddenly to her +height, and the old look of scorn came over her dark features. She would +have asked haughtily what brought Atossa there, but the fair queen was +first in her speech. There was hardly even the affectation of +friendliness in her tones, as she stood there alone and unattended, +facing her enemy. + +"I came to ask if you wished to go with me," said Atossa. + +"Where? Why should I go with you?" + +"I am weary of the palace. I think I will go to Shushan to be nearer the +king. To-night I will rest at the fortress." + +Nehushta stared coldly at the fair woman, muffled in her cloak and veil. + +"What is it to me whether you go to the ends of the earth, or whether +you remain here?" she asked. + +"I wished to know whether you desired to accompany me, else I should not +have asked you the question. I feared that you might be lonely here in +Stakhar--will you not come?" + +"Again I say, why do you ask me? What have I to do with you?" returned +Nehushta, drawing her mantle about her as though to leave Atossa. + +"If the king were here, he would bid you go," said Atossa, looking +intently upon her enemy. + +"It is for me to judge what the king would wish me to do--not for you. +Leave me in peace. Go your way if you will--it is nothing to me." + +"You will not come?" Atossa's voice softened and she smiled serenely. +Nehushta turned fiercely upon her. + +"No! If you are going--go! I want you not!" + +"You are glad I am going, are you not?" asked Atossa, gently. + +"I am glad--with a gladness only you can know. I would you were already +gone!" + +"You rejoice that I leave you alone with your lover. It is very +natural----" + +"My lover!" cried Nehushta, her wrath rising and blazing in her eyes. + +"Ay, your lover! the thin, white-haired priest, that once was +Zoroaster--your old lover--your poor old lover!" + +Nehushta steadied herself for a moment. She felt as though she must tear +this woman in pieces. But she controlled her anger by a great effort, +though she was nearly choking as she drew herself up and answered. + +"I would that the powers of evil, of whom you are, might strangle the +thrice-accursed lie in your false throat!" she said, in low fierce +tones, and turned away. + +Still Atossa stood there, smiling as ever. Nehushta looked back as she +reached the opposite end of the little plot. + +"Are you not yet gone? Shall I bid my slaves take you by the throat and +force you from me?" But, as she spoke, she looked beyond Atossa, and saw +that a body of dark men and women stood in the path. Atossa had not come +unprotected. + +"I see you are the same foolish woman you ever were," answered the older +queen. Just then, a strange sound echoed far off among the hills above, +strange and far as the scream of a distant vulture sailing its mate to +the carrion feast--an unearthly cry that rang high in the air from side +to side of the valley, and struck the dark crags and doubled in the +echo, and died away in short, faint pulsations of sound upon the +startled air. + +Nehushta started slightly. It might have been the cry of a wolf, or of +some wild beast prowling upon the heights, but she had never heard such +a sound before. But Atossa showed no surprise, and her smile returned +to her lips more sweetly than ever--those lips that had kissed three +kings, and that had never spoken truly a kind or a merciful word to +living man, or child, or woman. + +"Farewell, Nehushta," she said, "if you will not come, I will leave you +to yourself--and to your lover. I daresay he can protect you from harm. +Heard you that sound? It is the cry of your fate. Farewell, foolish +girl, and may every undreamed-of quality of evil attend you to your +dying day----" + +"Go!" cried Nehushta, turning and pointing to the path with a gesture of +terrible anger. Atossa moved back a little. + +"It is no wonder I linger awhile--I thought you were past suffering. If +I had time, I might yet find some way of tormenting you--you are very +foolish----" + +Nehushta walked rapidly forward upon her, as though to do her some +violence with her own hands. But Atossa, as she gave way before the +angry Hebrew woman, drew from beneath her mantle the Indian knife she +had once taken from her. Nehushta stopped short, as she saw the bright +blade thrust out against her bosom. But Atossa held it up one moment, +and then threw it down upon the grass at her feet. + +"Take it!" she cried, and in her voice, that had been so sweet and +gentle a moment before, there suddenly rang out a strange defiance and a +bitter wrath. "Take what is yours--I loathe it, for it smells of +you--and you, and all that is yours, I loathe and hate and scorn!" + +She turned with a quick movement and disappeared amongst her slaves, +who closed in their ranks behind her, and followed her rapidly down the +path. Nehushta remained standing upon the grass, peering after her +retreating enemy through the gloom; for the glow had faded from the +western sky while they had been speaking, and it was now dusk. + +Suddenly, as she stood, almost transfixed with the horror of her fearful +anger, that strange cry rang again through the lofty crags and crests of +the mountains, and echoed and died away. + +Nehushta's slave-women, who had hung back in fear and trembling during +the altercation between the two queens, came forward and gathered about +her. + +"What is it?" asked the queen in a low voice, for her own heart beat +with the anticipation of a sudden danger. "It is the cry of your fate," +Atossa had said--verily it sounded like the scream of a coming death. + +"It is the Druksh of the mountains!" said one. + +"It is the howling of wolves," said another, a Median woman from the +Zagros mountains. + +"The war-cry of the children of Anak is like that," said a little Syrian +maid, and her teeth chattered with fear. + +As they listened, crouching and pressing about their royal mistress in +their terror, they heard below in the road, the sound of horses and men +moving quickly past the foot of the gardens. It was Atossa and her +train, hurrying along the highway in the direction of the fortress. + +Nehushta suddenly pushed the slaves aside, and fled down the path +towards the palace, and the dark women hurried after. One of them +stooped and picked up the Indian knife and hid it in her bosom as she +ran. + +The whole truth had flashed across Nehushta's mind in an instant. Some +armed force was collecting upon the hills to descend in a body upon the +palace, to accomplish her destruction. Atossa had fled to a place of +safety, after enjoying the pleasure of tormenting her doomed enemy to +the last moment, well knowing that no power would induce Nehushta to +accompany her. But one thought filled Nehushta's mind in her +instantaneous comprehension of the truth; she must find Zoroaster, and +warn him of the danger. They would have time to fly together, yet. +Atossa must have known how to time her flight, since the plot was hers, +and she had not yet been many minutes upon the road. + +Through the garden she ran, and up the broad steps to the portico. +Slaves were moving about under the colonnade, leisurely lighting the +great torches that burned there all night. They had not heard the +strange cries from the hills; or, hearing only a faint echo, had paid no +attention to the sound. + +Nehushta paused, breathless with running. As she realised the quiet that +reigned in the palace, where the slaves went about their duties as +though nothing had occurred, or were likely to occur, it seemed to her +as though she must have been dreaming. It was impossible that if there +were any real danger, it should not have become known at least to some +one of the hundreds of slaves who thronged the outer halls and +corridors. Moreover there were numerous scribes and officers connected +with the government; some few nobles whom Darius had left behind when he +went to Shushan; there were their wives and families residing in various +parts, of the palace and in the buildings below it, and there was a +strong detachment of Persian guards. If there were danger, some one must +have known it. + +She did not know that at that moment the inhabitants of the lower palace +were already alarmed, while some were flying, leaving everything behind, +in their haste to reach the fortress higher up the valley. Everything +seemed quiet where she was, and she determined to go alone in search of +Zoroaster, without raising any alarm. Just as she entered the doorway of +the great hall, she heard the cry again echoing behind her through the +valley. It was as much as she could do to control the terror that again +took hold of her at the dreaded sound, as she passed the files of bowing +slaves, and went in between the two tall spearmen who guarded the inner +entrance, and grounded their spears with military precision as she went +by. + +She had one slave whom she trusted more than the rest. It was the little +Syrian maid, who was half a Hebrew. + +"Go," she said quickly, in her own tongue. "Go in one direction and I +will go in another, and search out Zoroaster, the high priest, and bring +him to my chamber. I also will search, but if I find him not, I will +wait for thee there." + +The dark girl turned and ran through the halls, swift as a startled +fawn, to fulfil her errand, and Nehushta went another way upon her +search. She was ashamed to ask for Zoroaster. The words of her enemy +were still ringing in her ears--"alone with your lover;" it might be the +common talk of the court for all she knew. She went silently on her way. +She knew where Zoroaster dwelt. The curtain of his simple chamber was +thrown aside and a faint light burned in the room. It was empty; a +scroll lay open upon the floor beside a purple cushion, as he had left +it, and his long white mantle lay tossed upon the couch which served him +for a bed. + +She gazed lovingly for one moment into the open chamber, and then went +on through the broad corridor, dimly lighted everywhere with small oil +lamps. She looked into the council chamber and it was deserted. The long +rows of double seats were empty, and gleamed faintly in the light. High +upon the dais at the end, a lamp burned above the carved chair of ivory +and gold, whereon the king sat when the council was assembled. There was +no one there. Farther on, the low entrance to the treasury was guarded +by four spearmen, whose arms clanged upon the floor as the queen passed. +But she saw that the massive bolts and the huge square locks upon them +were in their places. There was no one within. In the colonnade beyond, +a few nobles stood talking carelessly together, waiting for their +evening meal to be served them in a brightly illuminated hall, of which +the doors stood wide open to admit the cool air of the coming night. The +magnificently-arrayed courtiers made a low obeisance and then stood in +astonishment as the queen went by. She held up her head and nodded to +them, trying to look as though nothing disturbed her. + +On and on she went through the whole wing, till she came to her own +apartment. Not so much as one white-robed priest had she seen upon all +her long search. Zoroaster was certainly not in the portion of the +palace through, which she had come. Entering her own chambers, she +looked round for the little Syrian maid, but she had not returned. + +Unable to bear the suspense any longer, she hastily despatched a second +slave in search of the chief priest--a Median woman, who had been with +her in Ecbatana. + +It seemed as though the minutes were lengthened to hours. Nehushta sat +with her hands pressed to her temples, that throbbed as though the fever +would burst her brain, and the black fan-girl plied the palm-leaf with +all her might, thinking that her mistress suffered from the heat. The +other women she dismissed; and she sat waiting beneath the soft light of +the perfumed lamp, the very figure and incarnation of anxiety. + +Something within her told her that she was in great and imminent danger, +and the calm she had seen in the palace could not allay in her mind the +terror of that unearthly cry she had heard three times from the hills. +As she thought of it, she shuddered, and the icy fear seemed to run +through all her limbs, chilling the marrow in her bones, and freezing +her blood suddenly in its mad course. + +"Left alone with your lover"--"it is the cry of your fate"--Atossa's +words kept ringing in her ears like a knell--the knell of a shameful +death; and as she went over the bitter taunts of her enemy, her chilled +pulses beat again more feverishly than before. She could not bear to sit +still, but rose and paced the room in intense agitation. Would they +never come back, those dallying slave-women? + +The fan-girl tried to follow her mistress, and her small red eyes +watched cautiously every one of Nehushta's movements. But the queen +waved her off and the slave went and stood beside the chair where she +had sat, her fan hanging idly in her hand. At that moment, the Median +woman entered the chamber. + +"Where is he?" asked Nehushta, turning suddenly upon her. + +The woman made a low obeisance and answered in trembling tones: + +"They say that the high priest left the palace two hours ago, with the +queen Atossa. They say----" + +"Thou liest!" cried Nehushta vehemently, and her face turned white, as +she stamped her foot upon the black marble pavement. The woman sprang +back with a cry of terror, and ran towards the door. She had never seen +her mistress so angry. But Nehushta called her back. + +"Come hither--what else do they say?" she asked, controlling herself as +best she could. + +"They say that the wild riders of the eastern desert are descending from +the hills," answered the slave hurriedly and almost under her breath. +"Every one is flying--everything is in confusion--I hear them even now, +hurrying to and fro in the courts, the soldiers----" + +But, even as she spoke, an echo of distant voices and discordant cries +came through the curtains of the door from without, the rapid, uneven +tread of people running hither and thither in confusion, the loud voices +of startled men and the screams of frightened women--all blending +together in a wild roar that grew every moment louder. + +Just then, the little Syrian maid came running in, almost tearing the +curtains from their brazen rods as she thrust the hangings aside. She +came and fell breathless at Nehushta's feet and clasped her knees. + +"Fly, fly, beloved mistress," she cried, "the devils of the mountains +are upon us--they cover the hills--they are closing every entrance--the +people in the lower palace are all slain----" + +"Where is Zoroaster?" In the moment of supreme danger, Nehushta grew +calm, and her senses were restored to her again. + +"He is in the temple with the priests--by this time he is surely +slain--he could know of nothing that is going on--fly, fly!" cried the +poor Syrian girl in an agony of terror. + +Nehushta laid her hand kindly upon the head of the little maid, and +turning in the pride of her courage, now that she knew the worst, she +spoke calmly to the other slaves who thronged in from the outer hall, +some breathless with fear, others screaming in an agony of acute dread. + +"On which side are they coming?" she asked. + +"Prom the hills, from the hills they are descending in thousands," cried +half a dozen of the frightened women at once, the rest huddled together +like sheep, moaning in their fear. + +"Go you all to the farther window," cried Nehushta, in commanding tones. +"Leap down upon the balcony--it is scarce a man's height--follow it to +the end and past the corner where it joins the main wall of the garden. +Run along upon the wall till you find a place where you can descend. +Through the gardens you can easily reach the road by the northern gate. +Fly and save yourselves in the darkness. You will reach the fortress +before dawn if you hasten. You will hasten," she added with something of +disdain in her voice, for before she had half uttered her directions, +the last of the slave-women, mad with terror, disappeared through the +open window, and she could hear them drop, one after the other, in quick +succession upon the marble balcony below. She was alone. + +But, looking down, she saw at her feet the little Syrian maid, looking +with imploring eyes to her face. + +"Why do you not go with the rest?" asked Nehushta, stooping down and +laying one hand upon the girl's shoulder. + +"I have eaten thy bread--shall I leave thee in the hour of death?" asked +the little slave, humbly. + +"Go, child," replied Nehushta, very kindly. "I have seen thy devotion +and truth--thou must not perish." + +But the Syrian leaped to her feet, and there was pride in her small +face, as she answered: + +"I am a bondwoman, but I am a daughter of Israel, even as thou art. +Though all the others leave thee, I will not. It may be I can help +thee." + +"Thou art a brave child," said Nehushta; and she drew the girl to her +and pressed her kindly. "I must go to Zoroaster--stay thou here, hide +thyself among the curtains--escape by the window, if any come to harm +thee." She turned and went rapidly out between the curtains, as calm and +as pale as death. + +The din in the palace had partially subsided, and new and strange cries +re-echoed through the vast halls and corridors. An occasional wild +scream--a momentary distant crash as of a door breaking down and +thundering upon the marble pavement; and then again, the long, strange +cries, mingled with a dull, low sound as of a great moaning--all came up +together, and seemed to meet Nehushta as she lifted the curtains and +went out. + +But the little Syrian maid grasped the Indian knife in her girdle, and +stole stealthily upon her mistress's steps. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +Nehushta glided like a ghost along the corridors and dimly-lighted +halls. As yet, the confusion seemed to be all in the lower story of the +palace, but the roaring din rose louder every moment--the shrieks of +wounded women with the moaning of wounded men, the clash of swords and +arms, and, occasionally, a quick, loud rattle, as half a dozen arrows +that had missed their mark struck the wall together. + +Onward she flew, not pausing to listen, lest in a moment more the tide +of fight should be forced up the stairs and overtake her. She shuddered +as she passed the head of the great staircase and heard, as though but a +few steps from her, a wild shriek that died suddenly into a gurgling +death hiss. + +She passed the treasury, whence the guards had fled, and in a moment +more she was above the staircase that led down to the temple behind the +palace. There was no one there as yet, as far as she could see in the +starlight. The doors were shut, and the massive square building frowned +through the gloom, blacker than its own black shadow. + +Nehushta paused as she reached the door, and listened. Very faintly +through the thick walls she could hear the sound of the evening chant. +The priests were all within with Zoroaster, unconscious of their danger +and of all that was going on in the palace, singing the hymns of the +sacrifice before the sacred fire,--chanting, as it were, a dirge for +themselves. Nehushta tried the door. The great bronze gates were locked +together, and though she pushed, with her whole strength, they would not +move a hair's breadth. + +"Press the nail nearest the middle," said a small voice behind her. +Nehushta started and looked round. It was the little Syrian slave, who +had followed her out of the palace, and stood watching her in the dark. +Nehushta put her hand upon the round head of the nail and pressed, as +the slave told her to do. The door opened, turning slowly and +noiselessly upon its hinges. Both women entered; the Syrian girl looked +cautiously back and pushed the heavy bronze back to its place. The +Egyptian artisan who had made the lock, had told one of the queen's +women whom he loved the secret by which it was opened, and the Syrian +had heard it repeated and remembered it. + +Once inside, Nehushta ran quickly through the corridor between the walls +and rushing into the inner temple, found herself behind the screen and +in a moment more she stood before all the priests and before Zoroaster +himself. But even as she entered, the Syrian slave, who had lingered to +close the gates, heard the rushing of many feet outside, and the yelling +of hoarse voices, mixed with the clang of arms. + +Solemnly the chant rose around the sacred fire that seemed to burn by +unearthly means upon the black stone altar. Zoroaster stood before it, +his hands lifted in prayer, and his waxen face and snow-white beard +illuminated by the dazzling effulgence. + +The seventy priests, in even rank, stood around the walls, their hands +raised in like manner as their chief priest's; their voices going up in +a rich chorus, strong and tuneful, in the grand plain-chant. But +Nehushta broke upon their melody, with a sudden cry, as she rushed +before them. + +"Zoroaster--fly--there is yet time. The enemy are come in +thousands--they are in the palace. There is barely time!" As she cried +to him and to them all, she rushed forward and laid one hand upon his +shoulder. + +But the high priest turned calmly upon her, his face unmoved, although +all the priests ceased their chanting and gathered about their chief in +sudden fear. As their voices ceased, a low roar was heard from without, +as though the ocean were beating at the gates. + +Zoroaster gently took Nehushta's hand from his shoulder. + +"Go thou, and save thyself," he said kindly. "I will not go. If it be +the will of the All-Wise that I perish, I will perish before this altar. +Go thou quickly, and save thyself while there is yet time." + +But Nehushta took his hand in hers, that trembled with the great +emotion, and gazed into his calm eyes as he spoke--her look was very +loving and very sad. + +"Knowest thou not, Zoroaster, that I would rather die with thee than +live with any other? I swear to thee, by the God of my fathers, I will +not leave thee." Her soft voice trembled--for she was uttering her own +sentence of death. + +"There is no more time!" cried the voice of the little Syrian maid, as +she came running into the temple. "There is no more time! Ye are all +dead men! Behold, they are breaking down the doors!" + +As she spoke, the noise of some heavy mass striking against the bronze +gates echoed like thunder through the temple, and at each blow a chorus +of hideous yells rose, wild and long-drawn-out, as though the fiends of +hell were screaming in joy over the souls of the lost. + +The priests drew together, trembling with fear, brave and devoted though +they were. Some of them would have run towards the door, but the Syrian +maid stood before them. + +"Ye are dead men and there is no salvation--ye must die like men," said +the little maid, quietly. "Let me go to my mistress." And she pushed +through the crowd of white-robed men, who surged together in their +sudden fear, like a white-crested wave heaved up from the deep by a +fierce wind. + +Nehushta still held Zoroaster's hand and stared wildly upon the helpless +priests. Her one thought was to save the man she loved, but she saw well +enough that it was too late. Nevertheless she appealed to the priests. + +"Can none of you save him?" she cried. + +Foremost in the little crowd was a stern, dark man--the same who had +been the high priest before Zoroaster came, the same who had first +hurled defiance at the intruder, and then had given him his whole +allegiance. He spoke out loudly: + +"We will save him and thee if we are able," he cried in brave enthusiasm +for his chief. "We will take you between us and open the doors, and it +may be that we can fight our way out--though we are all slain, he may be +saved." He would have laid hold on Zoroaster, and there was not one of +the priests who would not have laid down his life in the gallant +attempt. But Zoroaster gently put him back. + +"Ye cannot save me, for my hour is come," he said, and a radiance of +unearthly glory stole upon his features, so that he seemed transfigured +and changed before them all. "The foe are as a thousand men against one. +Here we must die like men, and like priests of the Lord before His +altar." + +The thundering at the doors continued to echo through the whole temple, +almost drowning every other sound as it came; and the yells of the +infuriated besiegers rose louder and louder between. + +Zoroaster's voice rang out clear and strong and the band of priests +gathered more and more closely about him. Nehushta still held his hand +tightly between her own, and, pale as death, she looked up to him as he +spoke. The little Syrian girl stood, beside her mistress, very quite and +grave. + +"Hear me, ye priests of the Lord," said Zoroaster. "We are doomed men +and must surely die, though we know not by whose hand we perish. Now, +therefore, I beseech you to think not of this death which we must suffer +in our mortal bodies, but to open your eyes to the things which are not +mortal and which perish not eternally. For man is but a frail and +changing creature as regards his mortality, seeing that his life is not +longer than the lives of other created things, and he is delicate and +sickly and exposed to manifold dangers from his birth. But the soul of +man dieth not, neither is there any taint of death in it, but it liveth +for ever and is made glorious above the stars. For the stars, also, +shall have an end, and the earth--even as our bodies must end here this +night; but our soul shall see the glory of God, the All-Wise, and shall +live." + +"The sun riseth and the earth is made glad, and it is day; and again he +setteth and it is night, and the whole earth is sorrowful. But though +our sun is gone down and we shall see him rise no more, yet shall we see +a sun which setteth not for ever, and of whose gladness there is no end. +The morning cometh, after which there shall be no evening. The Lord +Ahura Mazda, who made all things, made also these our bodies, and put us +in them to live and move and have being for a space on earth. And now he +demands them again; for he gave them and they are his. Let us give them +readily as a sacrifice, for he who knoweth all things, knoweth also why +it is meet that we should die. And he who hath created all things which +we see and which perish quickly, hath created also the things which we +have not seen, but shall see hereafter;--and the time is at hand when +our eyes shall be opened to the world which endureth, though they be +closed in death upon the things which perish. Raise then a hymn of +thanks with me to the All-Wise God, who is pleased to take us from time +into eternity, from darkness into light, from change to immortality, +from death by death to life undying." + + _"Praise we the All-Wise God, who hath made and + created the years and the ages; + Praise him who in the heavens hath sown and hath + scattered the seed of the stars; + Praise him who moves between the three ages that are, + and that have been, and shall be; + Praise him who rides on death, in whose hand are + all power and honour and glory; + Praise him who made what seemeth, the image of + living, the shadow of life; + Praise him who made what is, and hath made it + eternal for ever and ever, + Who made the days and nights, and created the darkness + to follow the light, + Who made the day of life, that should rise up and + lighten the shadow of death."_ + +Zoroaster raised one hand to heaven as he chanted the hymn, and all the +priests sang with him in calm and holy melody, as though death were not +even then with them. But Nehushta still held his other hand fast, and +her own were icy cold. + +With a crash, as though the elements of the earth were dissolving into +primeval confusion, the great bronze doors gave way, and fell clanging +in--and the yells of the besiegers came to the ears of the priests, as +though the cover had been taken from the caldron of hell, suffering the +din of the damned and their devils to burst forth in demoniac discord. + +In an instant the temple was filled with a swarm of hideous men, whose +eyes were red with the lust of blood and their hands with slaughter. +Their crooked swords gleamed aloft as they pressed forward in the rush, +and their yells rent the very roof. + +They had hoped for treasure,--they saw but a handful of white-robed +unarmed men, standing around one taller than the rest; and in the +throng they saw two women. Their rage knew no bounds, and their screams +rose more piercing than ever, as they surrounded the doomed band, and +overwhelmed them, and dyed their misshapen blades in the crimson blood +that flowed so red and strong over the fair white vestures. + +The priests struggled like brave men to the last. They grasped their +hideous foes by arm and limb and neck, and tossed some of them back upon +their fellows; fighting desperately with their bare hands against the +armed murderers. But the foe were a hundred to one, and the priests fell +in heaps upon each other while the blood flowed out between the feet of +the wild, surging throng, who yelled and slew, and yelled again, as each +priest tottered back and fell, with the death-wound in his breast. + +At last, one tall wretch, with bloodied eyes and distorted features, +leaped across a heap of slain and laid hold of Nehushta by the hair with +his reeking hand, and strove to drag her out. But Zoroaster's thin arms +went round her like lightning and clasped her to his breast. Then the +little Syrian maid raised her Indian knife, with both hands, high above +her head, and smote the villain with all her might beneath the fifth +rib, that he died in the very act; but ere he had fallen, a sharp blade +fell swiftly, like a crooked flash of light, and severed the small hands +at the wrist; and the brave, true-hearted little maid fell shrieking to +the floor. One shriek--and that was all; for the same sword smote her +again as she lay, and so she died. + +But Nehushta's head fell forward on the high priest's breast, and her +arms clasped him wildly as his clasped her. + +"Oh, Zoroaster, my beloved, my beloved! Say not any more that I am +unfaithful, for I have been faithful even unto death, and I shall be +with you beyond the stars for ever!" + +He pressed her closer still, and in that awful moment, his white face +blazed with the radiant light of the new life that comes by death alone. + +"Beyond the stars and for ever!" he cried. "In the light of the glory of +God most high!" + +The keen sword flashed out once more and severed Nehushta's neck, and +found its sheath in her lover's heart; and they fell down dead together, +and the slaughter was done. + +But on the third day, Darius the king returned; for a messenger met him, +bringing news that his soldiers had slain the rebels in Echatana, though +they were ten to one. And when he saw what things had been done in +Stakhar, and looked upon the body of the wife he had loved, lying +clasped in the arms of his most faithful and beloved servant, he wept +most bitterly. And he rode forth and destroyed utterly the wild riders +of the eastern hills, and left not one child to weep for its father that +was dead. But two thousand of them he brought to Stakhar, and crucified +them all upon the roadside, that their blood might avenge the blood of +those he had loved so well. + +And he took the bodies of Zoroaster the high priest, and of Nehushta the +queen, and of the little Syrian maid, and he buried them with spices +and fine linen, and in plates of pure gold, together in a tomb over +against the palace, hewn in the rock of the mountain. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARZIO'S CRUCIFIX AND ZOROASTER*** + + +******* This file should be named 16720-8.txt or 16720-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/2/16720 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Marion Crawford</title> +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[*/ + <!-- + body { margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; } + p { margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + h1,h2 { margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + text-align: center;} + h3,h4,h5,h6 { text-align: center; } + hr { width: 50%; } + hr.full { width: 100%; } + .foot { margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -1em; font-size: 85%; } + .poem { margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left; } + .poem .stanza { margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; } + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem p { margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em; font-style: italic;} + .poem p.i2 { margin-left: 2em; } + .poem p.i4 { margin-left: 4em;} + .quote { margin-left: 6%; margin-right: 6%; + text-indent: 0em; + font-size: 90%; font-style: italic; } + .figure { margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; text-indent: 0em; text-align: center; font-size: 90%; font-variant: small-caps; } + .center { margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + text-align: center;} + .center table { margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; } + ins.trans {color: blue; + text-decoration: none; } + img { border: 0; } + hr.pg { width: 100%; } + pre {font-size: 8pt;} + +/*]]>*/ + // --> +</style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Marzio's Crucifix and Zoroaster, by F. Marion +Crawford</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Marzio's Crucifix and Zoroaster</p> +<p>Author: F. Marion Crawford</p> +<p>Release Date: September 18, 2005 [eBook #16720]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARZIO'S CRUCIFIX AND ZOROASTER***</p> +<p> </p> +<h4>E-text prepared by John Hagerson, Kevin Handy, Graeme Mackreth,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (https://www.pgdp.net/)</h4> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" noshade="noshade" size="4" /> + +<h1> + Marzio's Crucifix +</h1> +<h4>and</h4> +<h1> +Zoroaster +</h1> +<h3> +BY F. MARION CRAWFORD +</h3> + +<h2><ins class="trans" title="Note: Table of Contents added by transcriber.">Contents</ins></h2> +<div class="center"> +<table summary="TOC" cellspacing="8"> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="center"> +<h3>Marzio's Crucifix</h3> +</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0001"> +CHAPTER I +</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0007"> +CHAPTER VII +</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0002"> +CHAPTER II +</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0008"> +CHAPTER VIII +</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0003"> +CHAPTER III +</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0009"> +CHAPTER IX +</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0004"> +CHAPTER IV +</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0010"> +CHAPTER X +</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0005"> +CHAPTER V +</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0006"> +CHAPTER VI +</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0011"> +CHAPTER XI +</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="center"> +<h3>Zoroaster</h3> +</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0012"> +CHAPTER I. +</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0022"> +CHAPTER XI. +</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0013"> +CHAPTER II. +</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0023"> +CHAPTER XII. +</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0014"> +CHAPTER III. +</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0024"> +CHAPTER XIII. +</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0015"> +CHAPTER IV. +</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0025"> +CHAPTER XIV. +</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0016"> +CHAPTER V. +</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0026"> +CHAPTER XV. +</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0017"> +CHAPTER VI. +</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0027"> +CHAPTER XVI. +</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0018"> +CHAPTER VII. +</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0028"> +CHAPTER XVII. +</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0019"> +CHAPTER VIII. +</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0029"> +CHAPTER XVIII. +</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0020"> +CHAPTER IX. +</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0030"> +CHAPTER XIX. +</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0021"> +CHAPTER X. +</a></td> +<td align="left"><a href="#h2HCH0031"> +CHAPTER XX. +</a></td> +</tr> +</table></div> + +<div class="figure"> +<a href="./images/image.jpg"><img src="./images/image.jpg" width="80%" +alt="HE MOVED NOT THROUGH THE LONG HOURS OF DAY." /></a> +<br /> +HE MOVED NOT THROUGH THE LONG HOURS OF DAY.<br /> +—<i>Zoroaster.</i> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="center"> +<a href="./images/title.jpg"><img src="./images/title.jpg" width="50%" +alt="Title Page" title="" /></a> +</div> + +<h2> + THE NOVELS OF F. MARION CRAWFORD +</h2> +<h3> + <i>In Twenty-five Volumes, Authorized Edition</i> +</h3> + +<h1> + Marzio's Crucifix +</h1> +<h1> +Zoroaster +</h1> + +<h3> +BY F. MARION CRAWFORD +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +WITH FRONTISPIECE +</p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"> +P.F. COLLIER & SON<br /> +NEW YORK +</p> +<p class="center"> +1887</p> +<p> </p> + +<hr /> +<a name="h2HCH0001" id="h2HCH0001"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h1>MARZIO'S CRUCIFIX</h1> +<p> </p> + +<h2> + CHAPTER I +</h2> +<p> +"The whole of this modern fabric of existence is a living lie!" cried +Marzio Pandolfi, striking his little hammer upon the heavy table with an +impatient rap. Then he dropped it and turning on his stool rested one +elbow upon the board while he clasped his long, nervous fingers together +and stared hard at his handsome apprentice. Gianbattista Bordogni looked +up from his work without relinquishing his tools, nodded gravely, stared +up at the high window, and then went on hammering gently upon his little +chisel, guiding the point carefully among the delicate arabesques traced +upon the silver. +</p> +<p> +"Yes," he said quietly, after a few seconds, "it is all a lie. But what +do you expect, Maestro Marzio? You might as well talk to a stone wall as +preach liberty to these cowards." +</p> +<p> +"Nevertheless, there are some—there are half a dozen—" muttered +Marzio, relapsing into sullen discontent and slowly turning the body of +the chalice beneath the cord stretched by the pedal on which he pressed +his foot. Having brought under his hand a round boss which was to become +the head of a cherub under his chisel, he rubbed his fingers over the +smooth silver, mechanically, while he contemplated the red wax model +before him. Then there was silence for a space, broken only by the +quick, irregular striking of the two little hammers upon the heads of +the chisels. +</p> +<p> +Maestro Marzio Pandolfi was a skilled workman and an artist. He was one +of the last of those workers in metals who once sent their masterpieces +from Rome to the great cathedrals of the world; one of the last of the +artistic descendants of Caradosso, of Benvenuto Cellini, of Claude +Ballin, and of all their successors; one of those men of rare talent who +unite the imagination of the artist with the executive skill of the +practised workman. They are hard to find nowadays. Of all the twenty +chisellers of various ages who hammered from morning till night in the +rooms outside, one only—Gianbattista Bordogni—had been thought worthy +by his master to share the privacy of the inner studio. The lad had +talent, said Maestro Marzio, and, what was more, the lad had +ideas—ideas about life, about the future of Italy, about the future of +the world's society. Marzio found in him a pupil, an artist and a +follower of his own political creed. +</p> +<p> +It was a small room in which they worked together. Plain wooden shelves +lined two of the walls from the floor to the ceiling. The third was +occupied by tables and a door, and in the fourth high grated windows +were situated, from which the clear light fell upon the long bench +before which the two men sat upon high stools. Upon the shelves were +numerous models in red wax, of chalices, monstrances, marvellous ewers +and embossed basins for the ablution of the priests' hands, crucifixes, +crowns, palm and olive branches—in a word, models of all those things +which pertain to the service and decoration of the church, and upon +which it has been the privilege of the silversmith to expend his art and +labour from time immemorial until the present day. There were some few +casts in plaster, but almost all were of that deep red, strong-smelling +wax which is the most fit medium for the temporary expression and study +of very fine and intricate designs. There is something in the very +colour which, to one acquainted with the art, suggests beautiful +fancies. It is the red of the Pompeian walls, and the rich tint seems to +call up the matchless traceries of the ancients. Old chisellers say that +no one can model anything wholly bad in red wax, and there is truth in +the saying. The material is old—the older the better; it has passed +under the hand of the artist again and again; it has taken form, served +for the model of a lasting work, been kneaded together in a lump, been +worked over and over by the boxwood tool. The workman feels that it has +absorbed some of the qualities of the master's genius, and touches it +with the certainty that its stiff substance will yield new forms of +beauty in his fingers, rendering up some of its latent capacity of shape +at each pressure and twist of the deftly-handled instrument. +</p> +<p> +At the extremities of the long bench huge iron vices were fixed by +staples that ran into the ground. In one of these was fastened the long +curved tool which serves to beat out the bosses of hollow and +small-necked vessels. Each of the workmen had a pedal beneath his foot +from which a soft cord ascended, passed through the table, and pressed +the round object on which he was working upon a thick leather cushion, +enabling him to hold it tightly in its place, or by lifting his foot to +turn it to a new position. In pots full of sand were stuck hundreds of +tiny chisels, so that the workmen could select at a glance the exact +form of tool needful for the moment. Two or three half balls of heavy +stone stood in leathern collars, their flat surfaces upwards and covered +with a brown composition of pitch and beeswax an inch thick, in which +small pieces of silver were firmly embedded in position to be chiselled. +</p> +<p> +The workshop was pervaded by a smell of wax and pitch, mingled with the +curious indefinable odour exhaled from steel tools in constant use, and +supplemented by the fumes of Marzio's pipe. The red bricks in the +portion of the floor where the two men sat were rubbed into hollows, but +the dust had been allowed to accumulate freely in the rest of the room, +and the dark corners were full of cobwebs which had all the air of being +inhabited by spiders of formidable dimensions. +</p> +<p> +Marzio Pandolfi, who bent over his work and busily plied his little +hammer during the interval of silence which followed his apprentice's +last remark, was the sole owner and master of the establishment. He was +forty years of age, thin and dark. His black hair was turning grey at +the temples, and though not long, hung forward over his knitted eyebrows +in disorderly locks. He had a strange face. His head, broad enough at +the level of the eyes, rose to a high prominence towards the back, while +his forehead, which projected forward at the heavy brows, sloped +backwards in the direction of the summit. The large black eyes were deep +and hollow, and there were broad rings of dark colour around them, so +that they seemed strangely thrown into relief above the sunken, +colourless cheeks. Marzio's nose was long and pointed, very straight, +and descending so suddenly from the forehead as to make an angle with +the latter the reverse of the one most common in human faces. Seen in +profile, the brows formed the most prominent point, and the line of the +head ran back above, while the line of the nose fell inward from the +perpendicular down to the small curved nostrils. The short black +moustache was thick enough to hide the lips, though deep furrows +surrounded the mouth and terminated in a very prominent but pointed +chin. The whole face expressed unusual qualities and defects; the gifts +of the artist, the tenacity of the workman and the small astuteness of +the plebeian were mingled with an appearance of something which was not +precisely ideality, but which might easily be fanaticism. +</p> +<p> +Marzio was tall and very thin. His limbs seemed to move rather by the +impulse of a nervous current within than by any development of normal +force in the muscles, and his long and slender fingers, naturally yellow +and discoloured by the use of tools and the handling of cements, might +have been parts of a machine, for they had none of that look of humanity +which one seeks in the hand, and by which one instinctively judges the +character. He was dressed in a woollen blouse, which hung in odd folds +about his emaciated frame, but which betrayed the roundness of his +shoulders, and the extreme length of his arms. His apprentice, +Gianbattista Bordogni, wore the same costume; but beyond his clothing he +bore no trace of any resemblance to his master. He was not a bad type +of the young Roman of his class at five-and-twenty years of age. His +thick black hair curled all over his head, from his low forehead to the +back of his neck, and his head was of a good shape, full and round, +broad over the brows and high above the orifice of the ear. His eyes +were brown and not over large, but well set, and his nose was slightly +aquiline, while his delicate black moustache showed the pleasant curve +of his even lips. There was colour in his cheeks, too—that rich colour +which dark men sometimes have in their youth. He was of middle height, +strong and compactly built, with large, well-made hands that seemed to +have more power in them, if less subtle skill, than those of Maestro +Marzio. +</p> +<p> +"Remember what I told you about the second indentation of the acanthus," +said the elder workman, without looking round; "a light, light hand—no +holes in this work!" +</p> +<p> +Gianbattista murmured a sort of assent, which showed that the warning +was not wanted. He was intent upon the delicate operation he was +performing. Again the hammers beat irregularly. +</p> +<p> +"The more I think of it," said Marzio after the pause, "the more I am +beside myself. To think that you and I should be nailed to our stools +here, weekdays and feast-days, to finish a piece of work for a +scoundrelly priest—" +</p> +<p> +"A cardinal," suggested Gianbattista. +</p> +<p> +"Well! What difference is there? He is a priest, I suppose—a creature +who dresses himself up like a pulcinella before his altar—to—" +</p> +<p> +"Softly!" ejaculated the young man, looking round to see whether the +door was closed. +</p> +<p> +"Why softly?" asked the other angrily, though his annoyance did not seem +to communicate itself to the chisel he held in his hand, and which +continued its work as delicately as though its master were humming a +pastoral. "Why softly? An apoplexy on your softness! The papers speak as +loudly as they please—why should I hold my tongue? A dog-butcher of a +priest!" +</p> +<p> +"Well," answered Gianbattista in a meditative tone, as he selected +another chisel, "he has the money to pay for what he orders. If he had +not, we would not work for him, I suppose." +</p> +<p> +"If we had the money, you mean," retorted Marzio. "Why the devil should +he have money rather than we? Why don't you answer? Why should he wear +silk stockings—red silk stockings, the animal? Why should he want a +silver ewer and basin to wash his hands at his mass? Why would not an +earthen one do as well, such as I use? Why don't you answer? Eh?" +</p> +<p> +"Why should Prince Borghese live in a palace and keep scores of +horses?" inquired the young man calmly. +</p> +<p> +"Ay—why should he? Is there any known reason why he should? Am I not a +man as well as he? Are you not a man—you young donkey? I hate to think +that we, who are artists, who can work when we are put to it, have to +slave for such fellows as that—mumbling priests, bloated princes, a +pack of fools who are incapable of an idea! An idea! What am I saying? +Who have not the common intelligence of a cabbage-seller in the street! +And look at the work we give them—the creation of our minds, the labour +of our hands—" +</p> +<p> +"They give us their money in return," observed Gianbattista. "The +ancients, whom you are so fond of talking about, used to get their work +done by slaves chained to the bench—" +</p> +<p> +"Yes! And it has taken us two thousand years to get to the point we have +reached! Two thousand years—and what is it? Are we any better than +slaves, except that we work better?" +</p> +<p> +"I doubt whether we work better." +</p> +<p> +"What is the matter with you this morning?" cried Marzio. "Have you been +sneaking into some church on your way here? Pah! You smell of the +sacristy! Has Paolo been here? Oh, to think that a brother of mine +should be a priest! It is not to be believed!" +</p> +<p> +"It is the irony of fate. Moreover, he gets you plenty of orders." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, and no doubt he takes his percentage on the price. He had a new +cloak last month, and he asked me to make him a pair of silver buckles +for his shoes. Pretty, that—an artist's brother with silver buckles! I +told him to go to the devil, his father, for his ornaments. Why does he +not steal an old pair from the cardinal, his bondmaster? Not good +enough, I suppose—beast!" +</p> +<p> +Marzio laid aside his hammer and chisel, and lit the earthen pipe with +the rough wooden stem that lay beside him. Then he examined the +beautiful head of the angel he had been making upon the body of the +ewer. He touched it lovingly, loosed the cord, and lifted the piece from +the pad, turning it towards the light and searching critically for any +defect in the modelling of the little face. He replaced it on the table, +and selecting a very fine-pointed punch, laid down his pipe for a moment +and set about putting the tiny pupils into the eyes. Two touches were +enough. He began smoking again, and contemplated what he had done. It +was the body of a large silver ewer of which Gianbattista was +ornamenting the neck and mouth, which were of a separate piece. Amongst +the intricate arabesques little angels'-heads were embossed, and on one +side a group of cherubs was bearing a "monstrance" with the sacred Host +through silver clouds. A hackneyed subject on church vessels, but which +had taken wonderful beauty under the skilled fingers of the artist, who +sat cursing the priest who was to use it, while expending his best +talents on its perfections. +</p> +<p> +"It is not bad," he said rather doubtfully. "Come and look at it, +Tista," he added. The young man left his place and came and bent over +his master's shoulder, examining the piece with admiration. It was +characteristic of Marzio that he asked his apprentice's opinion. He was +an artist, and had the chief peculiarities of artists—namely, +diffidence concerning what he had done, and impatience of the criticism +of others, together with a strong desire to show his work as soon as it +was presentable. +</p> +<p> +"It is a masterpiece!" exclaimed Gianbattista. "What detail! I shall +never be able to finish anything like that cherub's face!" +</p> +<p> +"Do you think it is as good as the one I made last year, Tista?" +</p> +<p> +"Better," returned the young man confidently. "It is the best you have +ever made. I am quite sure of it. You should always work when you are in +a bad humour; you are so successful!" +</p> +<p> +"Bad humour! I am always in a bad humour," grumbled Marzio, rising and +walking about the brick floor, while he puffed clouds of acrid smoke +from his coarse pipe. "There is enough in this world to keep a man in a +bad humour all his life." +</p> +<p> +"I might say that," answered Gianbattista, turning round on his stool +and watching his master's angular movements as he rapidly paced the +room. "I might abuse fate—but you! You are rich, married, a father, a +great artist!" +</p> +<p> +"What stuff!" interrupted Marzio, standing still with his long legs +apart, and folding his arms as he spoke through his teeth, between which +he still held his pipe. "Rich? Yes—able to have a good coat for +feast-days, meat when I want it, and my brother's company when I don't +want it—for a luxury, you know! Able to take my wife to Frascati on the +last Thursday of October as a great holiday. My wife, too! A creature of +beads and saints and little books with crosses on them—who would leer +at a friar through the grating of a confessional, and who makes the +house hideous with her howling if I choose to eat a bit of pork on a +Friday! A good wife indeed! A jewel of a wife, and an apoplexy on all +such jewels! A nice wife, who has a face like a head from a tombstone in +the Campo Varano for her husband, and who has brought up her daughter to +believe that her father is condemned to everlasting flames because he +hates cod-fish—salt cod-fish soaked in water! A wife who sticks images +in the lining of my hat to convert me, and sprinkles holy water on me +Then she thinks I am asleep, but I caught her at that the other night—" +</p> +<p> +"Indeed, they say the devil does not like holy water," remarked +Gianbattista, laughing. +</p> +<p> +"And you want to many my daughter, you young fool," continued Marzio, +not heeding the interruption. "You do. I will tell you what she is like. +My daughter—yes!—she has fine eyes, but she has the tongue of the—" +</p> +<p> +"Of her father," suggested Gianbattista, suddenly frowning. +</p> +<p> +"Yes—of her father, without her father's sense," cried Marzio angrily. +"With her eyes, those fine eyes!—those eyes!—you want to marry her. If +you wish to take her away, you may, and good riddance. I want no +daughter; there are too many women in the world already. They and the +priests do all the harm between them, because the priests know how to +think too well, and women never think at all. I wish you good luck of +your marriage and of your wife. If you were my son you would never have +thought of getting married. The mere idea of it made you send your +chisel through a cherub's eye last week and cost an hoax's time for +repairing. Is that the way to look at the great question of humanity? +Ah! if I were only a deputy in the Chambers, I would teach you the +philosophy of all that rubbish!" +</p> +<p> +"I thought you said the other day that you would not have any deputies +at all," observed the apprentice, playing with his hammer. +</p> +<p> +"Such as these are—no! A few of them I would put into the acid bath, as +I would a casting, to clean them before chiselling them down. They might +be good for something then. You must begin by knocking down, boy, if you +want to build up. You must knock down everything, raze the existing +system to the ground, and upon the place where it stood shall rise the +mighty temple of immortal liberty." +</p> +<p> +"And who will buy your chalices and monstrances under the new order of +things?" inquired Gianbattista coldly. +</p> +<p> +"The foreign market," returned Marzio. "Italy shall be herself again, as +she was in the days of Michael Angelo; of Leonardo, who died in the arms +of a king; of Cellini, who shot a prince from the walls of Saint Angelo. +Italy shall be great, shall monopolise the trade, the art, the greatness +of all creation!" +</p> +<p> +"A lucrative monopoly!" exclaimed the young man. +</p> +<p> +"Monopolies! There shall be no monopolies! The free artisan shall sell +what he can make and buy what he pleases. The priests shall be turned +out in chain gangs and build roads for our convenience, and the +superfluous females shall all be deported to the glorious colony of +Massowah! If I could but be absolute master of this country for a week I +could do much." +</p> +<p> +"I have no doubt of it," answered Gianbattista, with a quiet smile. +</p> +<p> +"I should think not," assented Marzio proudly; then catching sight of +the expression on the young man's face, he turned sharply upon him. "You +are mocking me, you good-for-nothing!" he cried angrily. "You are +laughing at me, at your master, you villain you wretch, you sickly +hound, you priest-ridden worm! It is intolerable! It is the first time +you have ever dared; do you think I am going to allow you to think for +yourself after all the pains I have taken to educate you, to teach you +my art, you ungrateful reptile?" +</p> +<p> +"If you were not such a great artist I would have left you long ago," +answered the apprentice. "Besides, I believe in your principles. It is +your expression of them that makes me laugh now and then; I think you go +too far sometimes!" +</p> +<p> +"As if any one had ever gone far enough" exclaimed Marzio, somewhat +pacified, for his moods were very quick. "Since there are still men who +are richer than others, it is a sign that we have not gone to the +end—to the great end in which we believe. I am sure you believe in it +too, Tista, don't you?" +</p> +<p> +"Oh yes—in the end—certainly. Do not let us quarrel about the means, +Maestro Marzio. I must do another leaf before dinner." +</p> +<p> +"I will get in another cherub's nose," said his master, preparing to +relight his pipe for a whiff before going to work again. "Body of a dog, +these priests!" he grumbled, as he attacked the next angel on the ewer +with matchless dexterity and steadiness. A long pause followed the +animated discourse of the chiseller. Both men were intent upon their +work, alternately holding their breath for the delicate strokes, and +breathing more freely as the chisel reached the end of each tiny curve. +</p> +<p> +"I think you said a little while ago that I might marry Lucia," observed +Gianbattista, without looking up, "that is, if I would take her away!" +</p> +<p> +"And if you take her away," retorted the other, "where will you get +bread?" +</p> +<p> +"Where I get it now. I could live somewhere else and come here to work; +it seems simple enough." +</p> +<p> +"It seems simple, but it is not," replied Marzio. "Perhaps you could try +and get Paolo's commissions away from me, and then set up a studio for +yourself; but I doubt whether you could succeed. I am not old yet, nor +blind, nor shaky, thank God!" +</p> +<p> +"I did not catch the last words," said Gianbattista, hiding his smile +over his work. +</p> +<p> +"I said I was not old, nor broken down yet, thanks to my strength," +growled the chiseller; "you will not steal my commissions yet awhile. +What is the matter with you to-day? You find fault with half I say, and +the other half you do not hear at all. You seem to have lost your head, +Tista. Be steady over those acanthus leaves; everybody thinks an +acanthus leaf is the easiest thing in the world, whereas it is one of +the most difficult before you get to figures. Most chisellers seem to +copy their acanthus leaves from the cabbage in their soup. They work as +though they had never seen the plant growing. When the Greeks began to +carve Corinthian capitals, they must have worked from real leaves, as I +taught you to model when you were a boy. Few things are harder than a +good acanthus leaf." +</p> +<p> +"I should think women could do the delicate part of our work very well," +said the apprentice, returning to the subject from which Marzio was +evidently trying to lead him. "Lucia has such very clever fingers." +</p> +<p> +"Idiot!" muttered Marzio between his teeth, not deigning to make any +further answer. +</p> +<p> +The distant boom of a gun broke upon the silence that followed, and +immediately the bells of all the neighbouring churches rang out in quick +succession. It was midday. +</p> +<p> +"I did not expect to finish that nose," said Marzio, rising from his +stool. He was a punctual man, who exacted punctuality in others, and in +spite of his thin frame and nervous ways, he loved his dinner. In five +minutes all the men had left the workshop, and Marzio and his apprentice +stood in the street, the former locking the heavy door with a lettered +padlock, while the younger man sniffed the fresh spring air that blew +from the west out of the square of San Carlo a Catenari down the Via dei +Falegnami in which the establishment of the silver-chiseller was +situated. +</p> +<p> +As Marzio fumbled with the fastenings of the door, two women came up and +stopped. Marzio had his back turned, and Gianbattista touched his hat in +silence. The younger of the two was a stout, black-haired woman of +eight-and-thirty years, dressed in a costume of dark green cloth, which +fitted very closely to her exuberantly-developed bust, and was somewhat +too elaborately trimmed with imitation of jet and black ribands. A high +bonnet, decorated with a bunch of purple glass grapes and dark green +leaves, surmounted the lady's massive head, and though carefully put on +and neatly tied, seemed too small for the wearer. Her ears were adorned +by long gold earrings, in each of which were three large garnets, and +these trinkets dangled outside and over the riband of the bonnet, which +passed under her chin. In her large hands, covered with tight black +gloves, she carried a dark red parasol and a somewhat shabby little +black leather bag with steel fastenings. The stout lady's face was of +the type common among the Roman women of the lower class—very broad and +heavy, of a creamy white complexion, the upper lip shaded by a dark +fringe of down, and the deep sleepy eyes surmounted by heavy straight +eyebrows. Her hair, brought forward from under her bonnet, made smooth +waves upon her low forehead and reappeared in thick coils at the back of +her neck. Her nose was relatively small, but too thick and broad at the +nostrils, although it departed but little from the straight line of the +classic model. Altogether the Signora Pandolfi, christened Maria Luisa, +and wife to Marzio the silver-chiseller, was a portly and +pompous-looking person, who wore an air of knowing her position, and of +being sure to maintain it. Nevertheless, there was a kindly expression +in her fat face, and if her eyes looked sleepy they did not look +dishonest. +</p> +<p> +Signora Pandolfi's companion was her old maid-of-all-work, Assunta, +commonly called Suntarella, without whom she rarely stirred abroad—a +little old woman, in neat but dingy-coloured garments, with a grey +woollen shawl drawn over her head like a cowl, instead of a bonnet. +</p> +<p> +Marzio finished fastening the door, and then turned round. On seeing his +wife he remained silent for a moment, looking at her with an expression +of dissatisfied inquiry. He had not expected her. +</p> +<p> +"Well?" he ejaculated at last. +</p> +<p> +"It is dinner time," remarked the stout lady. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I heard the gun," answered Marzio drily. "It is the same as if you +had told me," he added ironically, as he turned and led the way across +the street. +</p> +<p> +"A pretty answer!" exclaimed Maria Luisa, tossing her large head as she +followed her lord and master to the door of their house. Meanwhile +Assunta, the old servant, glanced at Gianbattista, rolled up her eyes +with an air of resignation, and spread out her withered hands for a +moment with a gesture of despair, instantly drawing them in again +beneath the folds of her grey woollen shawl. +</p> +<p> +"Gadding!" muttered Marzio, as he entered the narrow door from which the +dark steps led abruptly upwards. "Gadding—always gadding! And who minds +the soup-kettle when you are gadding, I should like to know? The cat, I +suppose! Oh, these women and their priests! These priests and these +women!" +</p> +<p> +"Lucia is minding the soup-kettle," gasped Maria Luisa, as she puffed up +stairs behind her thin and active husband. +</p> +<p> +"Lucia!" cried Marzio angrily, a flight of steps higher. "I suppose you +will bring her up to be woman of all work? Well, she could earn her +living then, which is more than you do! After all, it is better to mind +a soup-kettle than to thump a piano and to squeal so that I can hear her +in the shop opposite, and it is better than hanging about the church all +the morning, or listening to Paolo's drivelling talk. By all means keep +her in the kitchen." +</p> +<p> +It was hard to say whether Signora Pandolfi was puffing or sighing as +she paused for breath upon the landing, but there was probably something +of both in the labour of her lungs. She was used to Marzio. She had +lived with him for twenty years, and she knew his moods and his ways, +and detected the coming storm from afar. Unfortunately, or perhaps +fortunately, for her, there was little variety in the sequence of his +ideas. She was accustomed to his beginning at the grumbling stage before +dinner, and proceeding by a crescendo movement to the pitch of rage, +which was rarely reached until he had finished his meal, when he +generally seized his hat and dragged Gianbattista away with him, +declaring loudly that women were not fit for human society. The daily +excitement of this comedy had long lost its power to elicit anything +more than a sigh from the stout Maria Luisa, who generally bore Marzio's +unreasonable anger with considerable equanimity, waiting for his +departure to eat her boiled beef and salad in peace with Lucia, while +old Assunta sat by the table with the cat in her lap, putting in a word +of commiseration alternately with a word of gossip about the lodgers on +the other side of the landing. The latter were a young and happy pair: +the husband, a chorus singer at the Apollo, who worked at glove cleaning +during the day time; his wife, a sempstress, who did repairs upon the +costumes of the theatre. Their apartments consisted of two rooms and a +kitchen, while Marzio and his family occupied the rest of the floor, and +entered their lodging by the opposite door. +</p> +<p> +Maria Luisa envied the couple in her sleepy fashion. Her husband was +indeed comparatively rich, and though economical in his domestic +arrangements, he had money in the bank enough to keep him comfortably +for the rest of his days. His violence did not extend beyond words and +black looks, and he was not miserly about a few francs for dress, or a +dinner at the Falcone two or three times a year. But in the matter of +domestic peace his conduct left much to be desired. He was a sober man, +but his hours were irregular, for he attended the meetings of a certain +club which Maria Luisa held in abhorrence, and brought back opinions +which made her cross herself with her fat fingers, shuddering at the +things he said. As for Gianbattista Bordogni, who lived with them, and +consequently received most of his wages in the shape of board and +lodging, he loved Lucia Pandolfi, his master's daughter, and though he +shared Marzio's opinions, he held his tongue in the house. He understood +how necessary to him the mother's sympathy must be, and, with subtle +intelligence, he knew how to create a contrast between himself and his +master by being reticent at the right moment. +</p> +<p> +Lucia opened the door in answer to the bell her father had rung, and +stood aside in the narrow way to let members of the household pass by, +one by one. Lucia was seventeen years old, and probably resembled her +mother as the latter had looked at the same age. She was slight, and +tall, and dark, with a quantity of glossy black hair coiled behind her +head. Her black eyes had not yet acquired that sleepy look which +advancing life and stoutness had put into her mother's, as a sort of +sign of the difficulty of quick motion. Her figure was lithe, though she +was not a very active girl, and one might have predicted that at forty +she, too, would pay her debt to time in pounds of flesh. There are thin +people who look as though they could never grow stout, and there are +others whose leisurely motion and deliberate step foretells increase of +weight. But Gianbattista had not studied these matters of physiological +horoscopy. It sufficed him that Lucia Pandolfi was at present a very +pretty girl, even beautiful, according to some standards. Her thick +hair, low forehead, straight classic features, and severe mouth +fascinated the handsome apprentice, and the intimacy which had developed +between the two during the years of his residence under Marzio's roof, +from the time when Lucia was a little girl to the present day, had +rendered the transition from friendship to love almost imperceptible to +them both. Gianbattista was the last of the party to enter the lodging, +and as he paused to shut the door, Lucia was still lingering at the +threshold. +</p> +<p> +"Hist! They will see!" she protested under her breath. +</p> +<p> +"What do I care!" whispered the apprentice, as he kissed her cheek in +the dusky passage. Then they followed the rest. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0002" id="h2HCH0002"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + +<h2> + CHAPTER II +</h2> +<p> +That evening Marzio finished the last cherub's head on the ewer before +he left the shop. He had sent Gianbattista home, and had dismissed the +men who were working at a huge gilded grating ordered by a Roman prince +for a church he was decorating. Marzio worked on by the light of a +strong lamp until the features were all finished and he had indicated +the pupils of the eyes with the fine-pointed punch. Then he sat some +time at his bench with the beautiful piece of workmanship under his +fingers, looking hard at it and straining his eyes to find imperfections +that did not exist. At last he laid it down tenderly upon the stuffed +leather pad and stared at the green shade of the lamp, deep in thought. +</p> +<p> +The man's nature was in eternal conflict with itself, and he felt as +though he were the battle-ground of forces he could neither understand +nor control. A true artist in feeling, in the profound cultivation of +his tastes, in the laborious patience with which he executed his +designs, there was an element in his character and mind which was in +direct contradiction with the essence of what art is. If art can be said +to depend upon anything except itself, that something is religion. The +arts began in religious surroundings, in treating religious subjects, +and the history of the world from the time of the early Egyptians has +shown that where genius has lost faith in the supernatural, its efforts +to produce great works of lasting beauty in the sensual and material +atmosphere of another century have produced comparatively insignificant +results. The science of silver-chiselling began, so far as this age is +concerned, in the church. The tastes of Francis the First directed the +attention of the masters of the art to the making of ornaments for his +mistresses, and for a time the men who had made chalices for the Vatican +succeeded in making jewelry for Madame de Chateaubriand, Madame +d'Etampes, and Diane de Poitiers. But the art itself remained in the +church, and the marvels of <i>repoussé</i> gold and silver to be seen in the +church of Notre Dame des Victoires, the masterpieces of Ossani of Rome, +could not have been produced by any goldsmith who made jewelry for a +living. +</p> +<p> +Marzio Pandolfi knew all this better than any one, and he could no more +have separated himself from his passion for making chalices and +crucifixes than he could have changed the height of his stature or the +colour of his eyes. But at the same time he hated the church, the +priests, and every one who was to use the beautiful things over which he +spent so much time and labour. Had he been indifferent, a careless, +good-natured sceptic, he would have been a bad artist. As it was, the +very violence of his hatred lent spirit and vigour to his eye and hand. +He was willing to work upon the figure, perfecting every detail of +expression, until he fancied he could feel and see the silver limbs of +the dead Christ suffering upon the cross under the diabolical skill of +his long fingers. The monstrous horror of the thought made him work +marvels, and the fancied realisation of an idea that would startle even +a hardened unbeliever, lent a feverish impulse to this strange man's +genius. +</p> +<p> +As for the angels on the chalices, he did not hate them; on the +contrary, he saw in them the reflection of those vague images of +loveliness and innocence which haunt every artist's soul at times, and +the mere manual skill necessary to produce expression in things so +minute, fascinated a mind accustomed to cope with difficulties, and so +inured to them as almost to love them. +</p> +<p> +Nevertheless, when a man is constantly a prey to strong emotions, his +nature cannot long remain unchanged. The conviction had been growing in +Marzio's mind that it was his duty, for the sake of consistency, to +abandon his trade. The thought saddened him, but the conclusion seemed +inevitable. It was absurd, he repeated to himself, that one who hated +the priests should work for them. Marzio was a fanatic in his theories, +but he had something of the artist's simplicity in his idea of the way +they should be carried out. He would have thought it no harm to kill a +priest, but it seemed to him contemptible to receive a priest's money +for providing the church with vessels which were to serve in a worship +he despised. +</p> +<p> +Moreover, he was not poor. Indeed, he was richer than any one knew, and +the large sums paid for his matchless work went straight from the +workshop to the bank, while Marzio continued to live in the simple +lodgings to which he had first brought home his wife, eighteen years +before, when he was but a young partner in the establishment he now +owned. As he sat at the bench, looking from his silver ewer to the green +lampshade, he was asking himself whether he should not give up this life +of working for people he hated and launch into that larger work of +political agitation, for which he fancied himself so well fitted. He +looked forward into an imaginary future, and saw himself declaiming in +the Chambers against all that existed, rousing the passions of a +multitude to acts of destruction—of justice, as he called it in his +thoughts—and leading a vast army of angry men up the steps of the +Capitol to proclaim himself the champion of the rights of man against +the rights of kings. His eyelids contracted and the concentrated light +of his eyes was reduced to two tiny bright specks in the midst of the +pupils; his nervous hand went out and the fingers clutched the jaws of +the iron vice beside him as he would have wished to grapple with the +jaws of the beast oppression, which in his dreams seemed ever tormenting +the poor world in which he lived. +</p> +<p> +There was something lacking in his face, even in that moment of secret +rage as he sat alone in his workroom before the lamp. There was the +frenzy of the fanatic, the exaltation of the dreamer, clearly expressed +upon his features, but there was something wanting. There was everything +there except the force to accomplish, the initiative which oversteps the +bank of words, threats, and angry thoughts, and plunges boldly into the +stream, ready to sacrifice itself to lead others. The look of power, of +stern determination, which is never absent from the faces of men who +change their times, was not visible in the thin dark countenance of the +silver-chiseller. Marzio was destined never to rise above the common +howling mob which he aspired to lead. +</p> +<p> +This fact asserted itself outwardly as he sat there. After a few minutes +the features relaxed, a smile that was almost weak—the smile that shows +that a man lacks absolute confidence—passed quickly over his face, the +light in his eyes went out, and he rose from his stool with a short, +dissatisfied sigh, which was repeated once or twice as he put away his +work and arranged his tools. He made the rounds of the workshop, looked +to the fastenings of the windows, lighted a taper, and then extinguished +the lamp. He threw a loose overcoat over his shoulders without passing +his arms through the sleeves, and went out into the street. Glancing up +at the windows of his house opposite, he saw that the lights were +burning brightly, and he guessed that his wife and daughter were waiting +for him before sitting down to supper. +</p> +<p> +"Let them wait," he muttered with a surly grin, as he put out the taper +and went down the street in the opposite direction. +</p> +<p> +He turned the street corner by the dark Palazzo Antici Mattei, and +threaded the narrow streets towards the Pantheon and the Piazza Sant' +Eustachio. The weather had changed, and the damp south-east wind was +blowing fiercely behind him. The pavement was wet and slippery with the +strange thin coating of greasy mud which sometimes appears suddenly in +Rome even when it has not rained. The insufficient gas lamps flickered +in the wind as though they would go out, and the few pedestrians who +hurried along clung closely to the wall as though it offered them some +protection from the moist scirocco. The great doors of the palaces were +most of them closed, but here and there a little red light announced a +wine-shop, and as Marzio passed by he could see through the dirty panes +of glass dark figures sitting in a murky atmosphere over bottles of +coarse wine. The streets were foul with the nauseous smell of decaying +vegetables and damp walls which the south-east wind brings out of the +older parts of Rome, and while few voices were heard in the thick air, +the clatter of horses' hoofs on the wet stones rattled loudly from the +thoroughfares which lead to the theatres. It was a dismal night, but +Marzio Pandolfi felt that his temper was in tune with the weather as he +tramped along towards the Pantheon. +</p> +<p> +The streets widened as he neared his destination, and he drew his +overcoat more closely about his neck. Presently he reached a small door +close to Sant' Eustachio, one of the several entrances to the ancient +Falcone, an inn which has existed for centuries upon the same spot, in +the same house, and which affords a rather singular variety of +accommodation. Down stairs, upon the square, is a modern restaurant with +plate-glass windows, marble floor, Vienna cane chairs, and a general +appearance of luxury. A flight of steps leads to an upper story, where +there are numerous rooms of every shape and dimension, furnished with +old-fashioned Italian simplicity, though with considerable cleanliness. +Thither resort the large companies of regular guests who have eaten +their meals there during most of their lives. But there is much more +room in the house than appears. The vast kitchen on the ground floor +terminates in a large space, heavily vaulted and lighted by oil lamps, +where rougher tables are set and spread, and where you may see the +well-to-do wine-carter eating his supper after his journey across the +Campagna, in company with some of his city acquaintances of a similar +class. In dark corners huge wine-casks present their round dusty faces +to the doubtful light, the smell of the kitchen pervades everything, +tempered by the smell of wine from the neighbouring cellars; the floor +is of rough stone worn by generations of cooks, potboys, and guests. +Beyond this again a short flight of steps leads to a narrow doorway, +passing through which one enters the last and most retired chamber of +the huge inn. Here there is barely room for a dozen persons, and when +all the places are full the bottles and dishes are passed from the door +by the guests themselves over each other's heads, for there is no room +to move about in the narrow space. The walls are whitewashed and the +tables are as plain as the chairs, but the food and drink that are +consumed there are the best that the house affords, and the society, +from the point of view of Marzio Pandolfi and his friends, is of the +most agreeable. +</p> +<p> +The chiseller took his favourite seat in the corner furthest from the +window. Two or three men of widely different types were already at the +table, and Marzio exchanged a friendly nod with each. One was a florid +man of large proportions, dressed in the height of the fashion and with +scrupulous neatness. He was a jeweller. Another, a lawyer with a keen +and anxious face, wore a tightly-buttoned frock coat and a black tie. +Immense starched cuffs covered his bony hands and part of his fingers. +He was supping on a salad, into which he from time to time poured an +additional dose of vinegar. A third man, with a round hat on one side of +his head, and who wore a very light-coloured overcoat, displaying a +purple scarf with a showy pin at the neck, held a newspaper in one hand +and a fork in the other, with which he slowly ate mouthfuls of a ragout +of wild boar. He was a journalist on the staff of an advanced radical +paper. +</p> +<p> +"Halloa, Sor Marzio!" cried this last guest, suddenly looking up from +the sheet he was reading, "here is news of your brother." +</p> +<p> +"What?" asked Marzio briefly, but as though the matter were utterly +indifferent to him. "Has he killed anybody, the assassin?" The +journalist laughed hoarsely at the jest. +</p> +<p> +"Not so bad as that," he answered. "He is getting advancement. They are +going to make him a canon of Santa Maria Maggiore. It is in the +<i>Osservatore Romano</i> of this evening." +</p> +<p> +"He is good for nothing else," growled Marzio. "It is just like him not +to have told me anything about it." +</p> +<p> +"With the sympathy which exists between you, I am surprised," said the +journalist. "After all, you might convert him, and then he would be +useful. He will be an archdeacon next, and then a bishop—who +knows?—perhaps a cardinal!" +</p> +<p> +"You might as well talk of converting the horses on Monte Cavallo as of +making Paolo change his mind," replied Pandolfi, beginning to sip the +white wine he had ordered. "You don't know him—he is an angel, my +brother! Oh, quite an angel! I wish somebody would send him to heaven, +where he is so anxious to be!" +</p> +<p> +"Look out, Marzio!" exclaimed the lawyer, glancing from the vinegar +cruet towards the door and then at his friend. +</p> +<p> +"No such luck," returned the chiseller. "Nothing ever happens to those +black-birds. When we get as far as hanging them, my dear brother will +happen to be in Paris instead of in Rome. You might as well try to catch +a street cat by calling to it <i>micio, micio</i>! as try and catch a priest. +You may as well expect to kill a mule by kicking it as one of those +animals, Burn the Vatican over their heads and think you have destroyed +them like a wasps' nest, they will write you a letter from Berlin the +next day saying that they are alive and well, and that Prince Bismarck +protests against your proceedings." +</p> +<p> +"Bravo, Sor Marzio!" cried the journalist. "I will put that in the paper +to-morrow—it is a fine fulmination. You always refresh my ideas—why +will you not write an article for us in that strain? I will publish it +as coming from a priest who has given up his orders, married, and opened +a wine-shop in Naples. What an effect! Magnificent! Do go on!" +</p> +<p> +Marzio did not need a second invitation to proceed upon his favourite +topic. He was soon launched, and as the little room filled, his pale and +sunken cheeks grew red with excitement, his tongue was unloosed, and he +poured out a continuous stream of blasphemous ribaldry such as would +have shocked the ears of a revolutionist of the year '89 or of a +<i>pétroleuse</i> of the nineteenth century. It seemed as though the spring +once opened would never dry. His eyes flashed, his fingers writhed +convulsively on the table, and his voice rang out, ironical and cutting, +with strange intonations that roused strange feelings in his hearers. It +was the old subject, but he found something new to say upon it at each +meeting with his friends, and they wondered where he got the imagination +to construct his telling phrases and specious, virulent arguments. +</p> +<p> +We have all wondered at such men. They are the outcome of this age and +of no previous time, as it is also to be hoped that their like may not +arise hereafter. They are found everywhere, these agitators, with their +excited faces, their nervous utterances, and their furious hatred of all +that is. They find their way into the parliaments of the world, into the +dining-rooms of the rich, into the wine-shops of the working men, into +the press even, and some of their works are published by great houses +and read by great ladies, if not by great men. Suddenly, when we least +expect it, a flaming advertisement announces a fiery tirade against all +that the great mass of mankind hold in honour, if not in reverence. +Curiosity drives thousands to read what is an insult to humanity, and +even though the many are disgusted, some few are found to admire a +rhetoric which exalts their own ignorance to the right of judging God. +And still the few increase and grow to be a root and send out shoots and +creepers like an evil plant, so that grave men say among themselves that +if there is to be a universal war in our times or hereafter it will be +fought by Christians of all denominations defending themselves against +those who are not Christians. +</p> +<p> +Marzio sat long at his table, and his modest pint of wine was enough to +moisten his throat throughout the time during which he held forth. When +the liquor was finished he rose, took down his overcoat from the peg on +which it hung, pushed his soft hat over his eyes, and with a sort of +triumphant wave of the hand, saluted his friends and left the room. He +was a perfectly sober man, and no power would have induced him to +overstep the narrow limit he allowed to his taste. Indeed, he did not +care for wine itself, and still less for any excitement it produced in +his brain. He ordered his half-litre as a matter of respect for the +house, as he called it, and it served to wet his throat while he was +talking. Water would have done as well. Consumed by the intensity of his +hatred for the things he attacked, he needed no stimulant to increase +his exaltation. +</p> +<p> +When he was gone, there was silence in the room for some few minutes. +Then the journalist burst into a loud laugh. +</p> +<p> +"If we only had half a dozen fellows like that in the Chambers, all +talking at once!" he cried. +</p> +<p> +"They would be kicked into the middle of Montecitorio in a quarter of an +hour," answered the thin voice of the lawyer. "Our friend Marzio is +slightly mad, but he is a good fellow in theory. In practice that sort +of thing must be dropped into public life a little at a time, as one +drops vinegar into a salad, on each leaf. If you don't, all the vinegar +goes to the bottom together, and smells horribly sour." +</p> +<p> +While Marzio was holding forth to his friends, the family circle in the +Via dei Falegnami was enjoying a very pleasant evening in his absence. +The Signora Pandolfi presided at supper in a costume which lacked +elegance, but ensured comfort—the traditional skirt and white cotton +jacket of the Italian housewife. Lucia wore the same kind of dress, but +with less direful effects upon her appearance. Gianbattista, as usual +after working hours, was arrayed in clothes of fashionable cut, aiming +at a distant imitation of the imaginary but traditional English tourist. +A murderous collar supported his round young chin, and a very +stiffly-constructed pasteboard-lined tie was adorned by an exquisite +silver pin of his own workmanship—the only artistic thing about him. +</p> +<p> +Besides these members of the family, there was a fourth person at +supper, the person whom, of all others, Marzio detested, Paolo Pandolfi, +his brother the priest, commonly called Don Paolo. He deserves a word of +description, for there was in his face a fleeting resemblance to Marzio, +which might easily have led a stranger to believe that there was a +similarity between their characters. Tall, like his brother, the priest +was a little less thin, and evidently far less nervous. The expression +of his face was thoughtful, and the deep, heavily-ringed eyes were like +Marzio's, but the forehead was broader, and the breadth ascended higher +in the skull, which was clearly defined by the short, closely-cropped +hair and the smooth tonsure at the back. The nose was larger and of more +noble shape, and Paolo's complexion was less yellow than his brother's; +the features were not surrounded by furrows or lines, and the leanness +of the priest's face threw them into relief. The clean shaven upper lip +showed a kind and quiet mouth, which smiled easily and betrayed a sense +of humour, but was entirely free from any suggestion of cruelty. Don +Paolo was scrupulous of his appearance, and his cassock and mantle were +carefully brushed, and his white collar was immaculately clean. His +hands were of the student type—white, square at the tips, lean, and +somewhat knotty. +</p> +<p> +Marzio, in his ill-humour, had no doubt flattered himself that his +family would wait for him for supper. But his family had studied him and +knew his ways. When he was not punctual, he seldom came at all, and a +quarter of an hour was considered sufficient to decide the matter. +</p> +<p> +"What are we waiting to do?" exclaimed Maria Luisa, in the odd Italian +idiom. "Marzio is in his humours—he must have gone to his friends. Ah! +those friends of his!" she sighed. "Let us sit down to supper," she +added; and, from her tone, the idea of supper seemed to console her for +her husband's absence. +</p> +<p> +"Perhaps he guessed that I was coming," remarked Don Paolo, with a +smile. "In that case he will be a little nervous with me when he comes +back. With your leave, Maria Luisa," he added, by way of announcing that +he would say grace. He gave the short Latin benediction, during which +Gianbattista never looked away from Lucia's face. The boy fancied she +was never so beautiful as when she stood with her hands folded and her +eyes cast down. +</p> +<p> +"Marzio does not know what I have come for," began Don Paolo again, as +they all sat down to the square table in the little room. "If he knew, +perhaps he might have been here—though perhaps he would not care very +much after all. You all ask what it is? Yes; I will tell you. His +Eminence has obtained for me the canonry that was vacant at Santa Maria +Maggiore—" +</p> +<p> +At this announcement everybody sprang up and embraced Don Paolo, and +overwhelmed him with congratulations, reproaching him at the same time +for having kept the news so long to himself. +</p> +<p> +"Of course, I shall continue to work with the Cardinal," said the +priest, when the family gave him time to speak. "But it is a great +honour. I have other news for Marzio—" +</p> +<p> +"I imagine that you did not count upon the canonry as a means of +pleasing him," remarked the Signora, Pandolfi, with a smile. +</p> +<p> +"No, indeed," laughed Lucia. "Poor papa—he would rather see you sent to +be a curate in Cività Lavinia!" +</p> +<p> +"Dear me! I fear so," answered Don Paolo, with a shade of sadness. "But +I have a commission for him. The Cardinal has ordered another crucifix, +which he desires should be Marzio's masterpiece—silver, of course, and +large. It must be altogether the finest thing he has ever made, when it +is finished." +</p> +<p> +"I daresay he will be very much pleased," said Maria Luisa, smiling +comfortably. +</p> +<p> +"I wish he could make the figure solid, cast and chiselled, instead of +<i>repoussé</i>," remarked Gianbattista, whose powerful hands craved heavy +work by instinct. +</p> +<p> +"It would be a pity to waste so much silver; and besides, the effects +are never so light," said Lucia, who, like most artists' daughters, knew +something of her father's work. +</p> +<p> +"What is a little silver, more or less, to the Cardinal?" asked +Gianbattista, with a little scorn; but as he met the priest's eye his +expression instantly became grave. +</p> +<p> +The apprentice was very young; he was not beyond that age at which, to +certain natures, it seems a fine thing to be numbered among such men as +Marzio's friends. But at the same time he was not old enough, nor +independent enough, to exhibit his feelings on all occasions. Don Paolo +exercised a dominant influence in the Pandolfi household. He had the +advantage of being calm, grave, and thoroughly in earnest, not easily +ruffled nor roused to anger, any more than he was easily hurt. By +character sensitive, he bore all small attacks upon himself with the +equanimity of a man who believes his cause to be above the need of +defence against little enemies. The result was that he dominated his +brother's family, and even Marzio himself was not free from a certain +subjection which he felt, and which was one of the most bitter elements +in his existence. Don Paolo imposed respect by his quiet dignity, while +Marzio asserted himself by speaking loudly and working himself +voluntarily into a state of half-assumed anger. In the contest between +quiet force and noisy self-assertion the issue is never doubtful. Marzio +lacked real power, and he felt it. He could command attention among the +circle of his associates who already sympathised with his views, but in +the presence of Paolo he was conscious of struggling against a superior +and incomprehensible obstacle, against the cool and unresentful +disapprobation of a man stronger than himself. It was many years since +he had ventured to talk before his brother as he talked when he was +alone with Gianbattista, and the latter saw the change that came over +his master's manner before the priest, and guessed that Marzio was +morally afraid. The somewhat scornful allusion to the Cardinal's +supposed wealth certainly did not constitute an attack upon Don Paolo, +but Gianbattista nevertheless felt that he had said something rather +foolish, and made haste to ignore his words. The influence could not be +escaped. +</p> +<p> +It was this subtle power that Marzio resented, for he saw that it was +exerted continually, both upon himself and the members of his household. +The chiseller acknowledged to himself that in a great emergency his +wife, his daughter, and even Gianbattista Bordogni, would most likely +follow the advice of Don Paolo, in spite of his own protests and +arguments to the contrary. He fancied that he himself alone was a free +agent. He doubted Gianbattista, and began to think that the boy's +character would turn out a failure. This was the reason why he no longer +encouraged the idea of a marriage between his daughter and his +apprentice, a scheme which, somewhat earlier, had been freely discussed. +It had seemed an admirable arrangement. The young man promised to turn +out a freethinker after Marzio's own heart, and showed a talent for his +profession which left nothing to be desired. Some one must be ready to +take Marzio's place in the direction of the establishment, and no one +could be better fitted to undertake the task than Gianbattista. Lucia +would inherit her father's money as the capital for the business, and +her husband should inherit the workshop with all the stock-in-trade. +Latterly, however, Marzio had changed his mind, and the idea no longer +seemed so satisfactory to him as at first. Gianbattista was evidently +falling under the influence of Don Paolo, and that was a sufficient +reason for breaking off the match. Marzio hardly realised that as far as +his outward deportment in the presence of the priest was concerned, the +apprentice was only following his master's example. +</p> +<p> +Marzio had been looking about him for another husband for his daughter, +and he had actually selected one from among his most intimate friends. +His choice had fallen upon the thin lawyer—by name Gasparo +Carnesecchi—who, according to the chiseller's views, was in all +respects a most excellent match. A true freethinker, a practising lawyer +with a considerable acquaintance in the world of politics, a discreet +man not far from forty years of age, it seemed as though nothing more +were required to make a model husband. Marzio knew very well that +Lucia's dowry would alone have sufficed to decide the lawyer to marry +her, and an interview with Carnesecchi had almost decided the matter. Of +course, he had not been able to allude to the affair this evening at the +inn, when so many others were present, but the preliminaries were +nearly settled, and Marzio had made up his mind to announce his +intention to his family at once. He knew well enough what a storm he +would raise, and, like many men who are always trying to seem stronger +than they really are, he had determined to choose a moment for making +the disclosure when he should be in a thoroughly bad humour. As he +walked homewards from the old inn he felt that this moment had arrived. +The slimy pavement, the moist wind driving through the streets and round +every corner, penetrating to the very joints, contributed to make him +feel thoroughly vicious and disagreeable; and the tirade in which he had +been indulging before his audience of friends had loosed his tongue, +until he was conscious of being able to face any domestic disturbance or +opposition. +</p> +<p> +The little party had adjourned from supper, and had been sitting for +some time in the small room which served as a place of meeting. +Gianbattista was smoking a cigarette, which he judged to be more in +keeping with his appearance than a pipe when he was dressed in civilised +garments, and he was drawing an elaborate ornament of arabesques upon a +broad sheet of paper fixed on a board. Lucia seated at the table was +watching the work, while Don Paolo sat in a straight-backed chair, his +white hands folded on his knee, from time to time addressing a remark +to Maria Luisa. The latter, being too stout to recline in the deep +easy-chair near the empty fireplace, sat bolt upright, with her feet +upon the edge of a footstool, which was covered by a tapestry of +worsted-work, displaying an impossible nosegay upon a vivid green +ground. +</p> +<p> +They had discussed the priest's canonry, and the order for the crucifix. +They had talked about the weather. They had made some remarks upon +Marzio's probable disposition of mind when he should come home, and the +conversation was exhausted so far as the two older members were +concerned. Gianbattista and Lucia conversed in a low tone, in short, +enigmatic phrases. +</p> +<p> +"Do you know?" said the apprentice. +</p> +<p> +"What?" inquired Lucia. +</p> +<p> +"I have spoken of it to-day." Both glanced at the Signora Pandolfi. She +was sitting up as straight as ever, but her heavy head was slowly +bending forward. +</p> +<p> +"Well?" asked the young girl +</p> +<p> +"He was in a diabolical humour. He said I might take you away." +Gianbattista smiled as he spoke, and looked into Lucia's eyes. She +returned his gaze rather sadly, and only shook her head and shrugged her +shoulders for a reply. +</p> +<p> +"If we took him at his word," suggested Gianbattista. +</p> +<p> +"Just so—it would be a fine affair!" exclaimed Lucia ironically. +</p> +<p> +"After all, he said so," argued the young man. "What does it matter +whether he meant it?" +</p> +<p> +"Things are going badly for us," sighed his companion. "It was different +a year ago. You must have done something to displease him, Tista. I wish +I knew!" Her dark eyes suddenly assumed an angry expression, and she +drew in her red lips. +</p> +<p> +"Wish you knew what?" inquired the apprentice, in a colder tone. +</p> +<p> +"Why he does not think about it as he used to. He never made any +objections until lately. It was almost settled." +</p> +<p> +Gianbattista glanced significantly at Don Paolo, shrugged his shoulders, +and went on drawing. +</p> +<p> +"What has that to do with it?" asked Lucia impatiently. +</p> +<p> +"It is enough for your father that it would please his brother. He would +hate a dog that Don Paolo liked." +</p> +<p> +"What nonsense!" exclaimed the girl. "It is something else. Papa sees +something—something that I do not see. He knows his own affairs, and +perhaps he knows yours too, Tista. I have not forgotten the other +evening." +</p> +<p> +"I!" ejaculated the young man, looking up angrily. +</p> +<p> +"You know very well where I was—at the Circolo Artistico. How do you +dare to think—" +</p> +<p> +"Why are you so angry if there is no one else in the case?" asked Lucia, +with a sudden sweetness, which belied the jealous glitter in her eyes. +</p> +<p> +"It seems to me that I have a right to be angry. That you should suspect +me after all these years! How many times have I sworn to you that I went +nowhere else?" +</p> +<p> +"What is the use of your swearing? You do not believe in anything—why +should you swear? Why should I believe you?" +</p> +<p> +"Oh—if you talk like that, I have finished!" answered Gianbattista. +"But there—you are only teasing me. You believe me, just as I believe +you. Besides, as for swearing and believing in something besides +you—who knows? I love you—is not that enough?" +</p> +<p> +Lucia's eyes softened as they rested on the young man's face. She knew +he loved her. She only wanted to be told so once more. +</p> +<p> +"There is Marzio," said Don Paolo, as a key rattled in the latch of the +outer door. +</p> +<p> +"At this hour!" exclaimed the Signora Pandolfi, suddenly waking up and +rubbing her eyes with her fat fingers. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0003" id="h2HCH0003"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER III +</h2> +<p> +Marzio, having divested himself of his heavy coat and hat, appeared at +the door of the sitting-room. +</p> +<p> +Everybody looked at him, as though to discern the signs of his temper, +and no one was perceptibly reassured by the sight of his white face and +frowning forehead. +</p> +<p> +"Well, most reverend canon," he began, addressing Don Paolo, "I am in +time to congratulate you, it seems. It was natural that I should be the +last to hear of your advancement, through the papers." +</p> +<p> +"Thank you," answered Don Paolo quietly. "I came to tell you the news." +</p> +<p> +"You are very considerate," returned Marzio. "I have news also; for you +all." He paused a moment, as though to give greater effect to the +statement he was about to make. "I refer," he continued very slowly, "to +the question of Lucia's marriage." +</p> +<p> +"Indeed!" exclaimed the priest. "I am glad if it is to be arranged at +last." +</p> +<p> +The other persons in the room held their breath. The young girl blushed +deeply under her white skin, and Gianbattista grew pale as he laid aside +his pencil and shaded his eyes with his hands. The Signora Pandolfi +panted with excitement and trembled visibly as she looked at her +husband. His dark figure stood out strongly from the background of the +shabby blue wall paper, and the petroleum lamp cast deep shadows in the +hollows of his face. +</p> +<p> +"Yes," he continued, "I talked yesterday with Gasparo Carnesecchi—you +know, he is the lawyer I always consult. He is a clever fellow and +understands these matters. We talked of the contract; I thought it +better to consult him, you see, and he thinks the affair can be arranged +in a couple of weeks. He is so intelligent. A marvel of astuteness; we +discussed the whole matter, I say, and it is to be concluded as soon as +possible. So now, my children—" +</p> +<p> +Gianbattista and Lucia, seated side by side at the table, were looking +into each other's eyes, and as Marzio fixed his gaze upon them, their +hands joined upon the drawing-board, and an expression of happy surprise +overspread their faces. Marzio smiled too, as he paused before +completing the sentence. +</p> +<p> +"So that now, my children," he continued, speaking very slowly, "you may +as well leave each other's hands and have done with all this nonsense." +</p> +<p> +The lovers looked up suddenly with a puzzled air, supposing that Marzio +was jesting. +</p> +<p> +"I am in earnest," he went on. "You see, Tista, that it will not be +proper for you to sit and hold Lucia's hand when she is called Signora +Carnesecchi, so you may as well get used to it." +</p> +<p> +For a moment there was a dead silence in the room. Then Lucia and +Gianbattista both sprang to their feet. +</p> +<p> +"What!" screamed the young girl in an agony of terror. "Carnesecchi! +what do you mean?" +</p> +<p> +"<i>Infame!</i> Wretch!" shouted Gianbattista, beside himself with rage as he +sprang forward to grasp Marzio in his hands. +</p> +<p> +But the priest had risen too, and placed himself between the young man +and Marzio to prevent any struggle. "No violence!" he cried in a tone +that dominated the angry voices and the hysterical weeping of Maria +Luisa, who sat rocking herself in her chair. Gianbattista stepped back +and leaned against the wall, choking with anger. Lucia fell back into +her seat and covered her face with her hands. +</p> +<p> +"Violence? Who wants violence?" asked Marzio in contemptuous tones. "Do +you suppose I am afraid of Tista? Let him alone, Paolo; let us see +whether he will strike me." +</p> +<p> +The priest now turned his back on the apprentice, and confronted Marzio. +He was not pale like the rest, for he was not afraid of the chiseller, +and the generous flush of a righteous indignation mounted to his calm +face. +</p> +<p> +"You are mad," he said, meeting his brother's gaze fearlessly. +</p> +<p> +"Not in the least," returned Marzio. "Lucia shall marry Gasparo +Carnesecchi at once, or she shall not marry any one; what am I saying? +She shall have no choice. She must and she shall marry the man I have +chosen. What have you to do with it? Have you come here to put yourself +between me and my family? I advise you to be careful. The law protects +me from such interference, and fellows of your cloth are not very +popular at present." +</p> +<p> +"The law," answered the priest, controlling his wrath, "protects +children against their parents. The law which you invoke provides that a +father shall not force his daughter to marry against her will, and I +believe that considerable penalties are incurred in such cases." +</p> +<p> +"What do you know of law, except how to elude it?" inquired Marzio +defiantly. +</p> +<p> +Not half an hour had elapsed since he had been haranguing the admiring +company of his friends, and his words came easily. Moreover, it was a +long time since he had broken through the constraint he felt in Don +Paolo's presence, and the opportunity having presented itself was not to +be lost. +</p> +<p> +"Who are you that should teach me?" he repeated, raising his voice to a +strained key and gesticulating fiercely. "You, your very existence is a +lie, and you are the server of lies, and you and your fellow liars would +have created them if they didn't already exist, you love them so. You +live by a fraud, and you want to drag everybody into the comedy you play +every day in your churches, everybody who is fool enough to drop a coin +into your greedy palm! What right have you to talk to men? Do you work? +Do you buy? Do you sell? You are worse than those fine gentlemen who do +nothing because their fathers stole our money, for you live by stealing +it yourselves! And you set yourselves up as judges over an honest man to +tell him what he is to do with his daughter? You fool, you thing in +petticoats, you deceiver of women, you charlatan, you mountebank, go! Go +and perform your antics before your altars, and leave hardworking men +like me to manage their families as they can, and to marry their +daughters to whom they will!" +</p> +<p> +Marzio had rolled off his string of invective in such a tone, and so +rapidly, that it had been impossible to interrupt him. The two women +were sobbing bitterly. Gianbattista, pale and breathing hard, looked as +though he would throttle Marzio if he could reach him, and Don Paolo +faced the angry artist, with reddening forehead, folding his arms and +straining his muscles to control himself. When Marzio paused for breath, +the priest answered him with an effort. +</p> +<p> +"You may insult me if it pleases you," he said, "it is nothing to me. I +cannot prevent your uttering your senseless blasphemies. I speak to you +of the matter in hand. I tell you simply that in treating these two, who +love each other, as you are treating them, you are doing a thing +unworthy of a man. Moreover, the law protects your daughter, and I will +see that the law does its duty." +</p> +<p> +"Oh, to think that I should have such a monster for a husband," groaned +the fat Signora Pandolfi, still rocking herself in her chair, and hardly +able to speak through her sobs. +</p> +<p> +"You will do a bad day's work for yourself and your art when you try to +separate us," said Gianbattista between his teeth. +</p> +<p> +Marzio laughed hoarsely, and turned his back on the rest, beginning to +fill his pipe at the chimney-piece. Don Paolo heard the apprentice's +words, and understood their meaning. He went and laid his hand on the +young man's shoulder. +</p> +<p> +"Do not let us have any threats, Tista," he said quietly. "Sor Marzio +will never do this thing—believe me, he cannot if he would." +</p> +<p> +"Go on," cried Marzio, striking a match. "Go on—sow the seeds of +discord, teach them all to disobey me. I am listening, my dear Paolo." +</p> +<p> +"All the better, if you are," answered the priest, "for I assure you I +am in earnest. You will have time to consider this thing. I have a +matter of business with you, Marzio. That is what I came for this +evening. If you have done, we will speak of it." +</p> +<p> +"Business?" exclaimed Marzio in loud ironical tones. "This is a good +time for talking of business—as good as any other! What is it?" +</p> +<p> +"The Cardinal wants another piece of work done, a very fine piece of +work." +</p> +<p> +"The Cardinal? I will not make any more chalices for your cardinals. I +am sick of chalices, and monstrances, and such stuff." +</p> +<p> +"It is none of those," answered Don Paolo quietly. "The Cardinal wants a +magnificent silver crucifix. Will you undertake it? It must be your +greatest work, if you do it at all." +</p> +<p> +"A crucifix?" repeated Marzio, in a changed tone. The angry gleam faded +from his eyes, and a dreamy look came into them as he let the heavy lids +droop a little, and remained silent, apparently lost in thought. The +women ceased sobbing, and watched his altered face, while Gianbattista +sank down into a chair and absently fingered the pencil that had fallen +across the drawing-board. +</p> +<p> +"Will you do it?" asked Don Paolo, at last. +</p> +<p> +"A crucifix," mused the artist. "Yes, I will make a crucifix. I have +made many, but I have never made one to my mind. Yes, tell the Cardinal +that I will make it for him, if he will give me time." +</p> +<p> +"I do not think he will need it in less than three or four months," +answered Don Paolo. +</p> +<p> +"Four months—that is not a long time for such a work. But I will try." +</p> +<p> +Thereupon Marzio, whose manner had completely changed, puffed at his +pipe until it burned freely, and then approached the table, glancing at +Gianbattista and Lucia as though nothing had happened. He drew the +drawing-board which the apprentice had been using towards him, and, +taking the pencil from the hand of the young man, began sketching heads +on one corner of the paper. +</p> +<p> +Don Paolo looked at him gravely. After the words Marzio had spoken, it +had gone against the priest's nature to communicate to him the +commission for the sacred object. He had hesitated a moment, asking +himself whether it was right that such a man should be allowed to do +such work. Then the urgency of the situation, and his knowledge of his +brother's character, had told him that the diversion might avert some +worse catastrophe, and he had quickly made up his mind. Even now he +asked himself whether he had done right. It was a question of theology, +which it would have taken long to analyse, and Don Paolo had other +matters to think of in the present, so he dismissed it from his mind. He +wanted to be gone, and he only stayed a few minutes to see whether +Marzio's mind would change again. He knew his brother well, and he was +sure that no violence was to be feared from him, except in his speech. +Such scenes as he had just witnessed were not uncommon in the Pandolfi +household, and Don Paolo did not believe that any consequence was to be +expected after he had left the house. He only felt that Marzio had been +more than usually unreasonable, and that the artist could not possibly +mean seriously what he had proposed that evening. +</p> +<p> +The priest did not indeed think that Gianbattista was altogether good +enough for Lucia. The boy was occasionally a little wild in his speech, +and though he was too much in awe of Don Paolo to repeat before him any +of the opinions he had learned from his master, his manner showed +occasionally that he was inclined to take the side of the latter in most +questions that arose. But the habit of controlling his feelings in order +not to offend the man of the church, and especially in order not to hurt +Lucia's sensitive nature, had begun gradually to change and modify the +young man's character. From having been a devoted admirer of Marzio's +political creed and extreme free thought, Gianbattista had fallen, into +the way of asking questions of the chiseller, to see how he would answer +them; and the answers had not always satisfied him. Side by side with +his increasing skill in his art, which led him to compare himself with +his teacher, there had grown up in the apprentice the habit of comparing +himself with Marzio from the intellectual point of view as well as from +the artistic. The comparison did not appear to him advantageous to the +elder man, as he discovered, in his way of thinking, a lack of logic on +the one hand, and a love of frantic exaggeration on the other, which +tended to throw a doubt upon the whole system of ideas which had +produced these defects. The result was that the young man's mental +position was unbalanced, and he was inclined to return to a more normal +condition of thought. Don Paolo did not know all this, but he saw that +Gianbattista had grown more quiet during the last year, and he hoped +that his marriage with Lucia would complete the change. To see her +thrown into the arms of a man like Gasparo Carnesecchi was more than the +priest's affection for his niece could bear. He hardly believed that +Marzio would seriously think again of the scheme, and he entertained a +hope that the subject would not even be broached for some time to come. +</p> +<p> +Marzio continued to draw in silence, and after a few minutes, Don Paolo +rose to take his leave. The chiseller did not look up from his pencil. +</p> +<p> +"Good-night, Marzio—let it be a good piece of work," said Paolo. +</p> +<p> +"Good-night," growled the artist, his eyes still fixed on the paper. His +brother saluted the rest and left the room to go home to his lonely +lodgings at the top of an old palace, in the first floor of which dwelt +the Cardinal, whom he served as secretary. When he was gone, Lucia rose +silently and went to her room, leaving her father and mother with +Gianbattista. The Signora Pandolfi hesitated as to whether she should +follow her daughter or stay with the two men. Her woman's nature feared +further trouble, and visions of drawn knives rose before her swollen +eyes, so that, after making as though she would rise twice, she finally +remained in her seat, her fat hands resting idly upon her knees, staring +at her husband and Gianbattista. The latter sat gloomily watching the +paper on which his master was drawing. +</p> +<p> +"Marzio, you do not mean it?" said Maria Luisa, after a long interval of +silence. The good woman did not possess the gift of tact. +</p> +<p> +"Do you not see that I have an idea?" asked her husband crossly, by way +of an answer, as he bent his head over his work. +</p> +<p> +"I beg your pardon," said the Signora Pandolfi, in a humble tone, +looking piteously at Gianbattista. The apprentice shook his head, as +though he meant that nothing could be done for the present. Then she +rose slowly, and with a word of good-night as she turned to the door, +she left the room. The two men were alone. +</p> +<p> +"Now that nobody hears us, Sor Marzio, what do you mean to do?" asked +Gianbattista in a low voice. Marzio shrugged his shoulders. +</p> +<p> +"What I told you," he answered, after a few seconds. "Do you suppose +that rascally priest of a brother has made me change my mind?" +</p> +<p> +"No, I did not expect that, but I am not a priest; nor am I a boy to be +turned round your fingers and put off in this way—sent to the wash like +dirty linen. You must answer to me for what you said this evening." +</p> +<p> +"Oh, I will answer as much as you please," replied the artist, with an +evil smile. +</p> +<p> +"Very well. Why do you want to turn me out, after promising for years +that I should marry Lucia with your full consent when she was old +enough?" +</p> +<p> +"Why? because you have turned yourself out, to begin with. Secondly, +because Carnesecchi is a better match for my daughter than a beggarly +chiseller. Thirdly, because I please; and fourthly, because I do not +care a fig whether you like it or not. Are those reasons sufficient or +not?" +</p> +<p> +"They may satisfy you," answered Gianbattista. "They leave something to +be desired in the way of logic, in my humble opinion." +</p> +<p> +"Since I have told you that I do not care for your opinion—" +</p> +<p> +"I will probably find means to make you care for it," retorted the young +man. "Don Paolo is quite right, in the first place, when he tells you +that the thing is simply impossible. Fathers do not compel their +daughters to marry in this century. Will you do me the favour to explain +your first remark a little more clearly? You said I had turned myself +out—how?" +</p> +<p> +"You have changed, Tista," said Marzio, leaning back to sharpen his +pencil, and staring at the wall. "You change every day. You are not at +all what you used to be, and you know it. You are going back to the +priests. You fawn on my brother like a dog." +</p> +<p> +"You are joking," answered the apprentice. "Of course I would not want +to make trouble in your house by quarrelling with Don Paolo, even if I +disliked him. I do not dislike him. This evening he showed that he is a +much better man than you." +</p> +<p> +"Dear Gianbattista," returned Marzio in sour tones, "every word you say +convinces me that I have done right. Besides, I am busy—you see—you +disturb my ideas. If you do not like my house, you can leave it. I will +not keep you. I daresay I can educate another artist before I die. You +are really only fit to swing a censer behind Paolo, or at the heels of +some such animal." +</p> +<p> +"Perhaps it would be better to do that than to serve the mass you sing +over your work-bench every day," said Gianbattista. "You are going too +far, Sor Marzio. One may trifle with women and their feelings. You had +better not attempt it with men." +</p> +<p> +"Such as you and Paolo? There was once a mule in the Pescheria Vecchia; +when he got half-way through he did not like the smell of the fish, and +he said to his leader, 'I will turn back.' The driver pulled him along. +Then said the mule, 'Do not trifle with me. I will turn round and kick +you.' But there is not room for a mule to turn round in the Pescheria +Vecchia. The mule found it out, and followed the man through the fish +market after all. I hope that is clear? It means that you are a fool." +</p> +<p> +"What is the use of bandying words?" cried the apprentice angrily. "I +will offer you a bargain, Sor Marzio. I will give you your choice. +Either I will leave the house, and in that case I will carry off Lucia +and marry her in spite of you. Or else I will stay here—but if Lucia +marries any one else, I will cut your throat. Is that a fair bargain?" +</p> +<p> +"Perfectly fair, though I cannot see wherein the bargain consists," +answered Marzio, with a rough laugh. "I prefer that you should stay +here. I will run the risk of being murdered by you, any day, and you may +ran the risk of being sent to the galleys for life, if you choose. You +will be well cared for there, and you can try your chisel on +paving-stones for a change from silver chalices." +</p> +<p> +"Never mind what becomes of me afterwards, in that case," said the young +man. "If Lucia is married to some one else, I do not care what happens. +So you have got your warning!" +</p> +<p> +"Thank you. If you had remained what you used to be, you might have +married her without further difficulty. But to have you and Lucia and +Maria Luisa and Paolo all conspiring against me from morning till night +is more than I can bear. Good-night, and the devil be with you, you +fool!" +</p> +<p> +"<i>Et cum spiritu tuo</i>," answered Gianbattista as he left the room. +</p> +<p> +When Marzio was alone he returned to the head he was drawing—a head of +wonderful beauty, inclined downwards and towards one side, bearing a +crown of thorns, the eyelids drooped and shaded in death. He glanced at +it with a bitter smile and threw aside the pencil without making another +stroke upon the paper. +</p> +<p> +He leaned back, lighted another pipe, and began to reflect upon the +events of the evening. He was glad it was over, for a strange weakness +in his violent nature made it hard for him to face such scenes unless he +were thoroughly roused. Now, however, he was satisfied. For a long time +he had seen with growing distrust the change in Gianbattista's manner, +and in the last words he had spoken to the apprentice he had uttered +what was really in his heart. He was afraid of being altogether +overwhelmed by the majority against him in his own house. He hated Paolo +with his whole soul, and he had hated him all his life. This calm, +obliging brother of his stood between him and all peace of mind. It was +not the least of his grievances that he received most of his commissions +through the priest who was constantly in relation with the cardinal and +rich prelates who were the patrons of his art. The sense of obligation +which he felt was often almost unbearable, and he longed to throw it +off. The man whom he hated for his own sake and despised for his +connection with the church, was daily in his house; at every turn he met +with Paolo's tacit disapprobation or outspoken resistance. For a long +time Paolo had doubted whether the marriage between the two young people +would turn out well, and while he expressed his doubts Marzio had +remained stubborn in his determination. Latterly, and doubtless owing to +the change in Gianbattista's character, Paolo had always spoken of the +marriage with favour. This sufficed at first to rouse Marzio's +suspicions, and ultimately led to his opposing with all his might what +he had so long and so vigorously defended; he resolved to be done with +what he considered a sort of slavery, and at one stroke to free himself +from his brother's influence, and to assure Lucia's future. During +several weeks he had planned the scene which had taken place that +evening, waiting for his opportunity, trying to make sure of being +strong enough to make it effective, and revolving the probable answers +he might expect from the different persons concerned. It had come, and +he was satisfied with the result. +</p> +<p> +Marzio Pandolfi's intelligence lacked logic. In its place he possessed +furious enthusiasm, an exaggerated estimate of the value of his social +doctrines, and a whole vocabulary of terms by which to describe the +ideal state after which he hankered. But though he did not possess a +logic of his own, his life was itself the logical result of the +circumstances he had created. As, in the diagram called the +parallelogram of forces, various conflicting powers are seen to act at a +point, producing an inevitable resultant in a fixed line, so in the plan +of Marzio's life, a number of different tendencies all acted at a +centre, in his overstrained intelligence, and continued to push him in a +direction he had not expected to follow, and of which even now he was +far from suspecting the ultimate termination. +</p> +<p> +He had never loved his brother, but he had loved his wife with all his +heart. He had begun to love Lucia when she was a child. He had felt a +sort of admiring fondness for Gianbattista Bordogni, and a decided pride +in the progress and the talent of the apprentice. By degrees, as the +prime mover, his hatred for Paolo, gained force, it had absorbed his +affection for Maria Luisa, who, after eighteen years of irreproachable +wifehood, seemed to Marzio to be nothing better than an accomplice and a +spy of his brother's in the domestic warfare. Next, the lingering love +for his child had been eaten up in the same way, and Marzio said to +himself that the girl had joined the enemy, and was no longer worthy of +his confidence. Lastly, the change in Gianbattista's character and ideas +seemed to destroy the last link which bound the chiseller to his family. +Henceforth, his hand was against each one of his household, and he +fancied that they were all banded together against himself. +</p> +<p> +Every step had followed as the inevitable consequence of what had gone +before. The brooding and suspicious nature of the artist had persisted +in seeing in each change in himself the blackest treachery in those who +surrounded him. His wife was an implacable enemy, his daughter a spy, +his apprentice a traitor, and as for Paolo himself, Marzio considered +him the blackest of villains. For all this chain of hatreds led +backwards, and was concentrated with tenfold virulence in his great +hatred for his brother. Paolo, in his estimation, was the author of all +the evil, the sole ultimate cause of domestic discord, the arch enemy of +the future, the representative, in Marzio's sweeping condemnation, not +only of the church and of religion, but of that whole fabric of existing +society which the chiseller longed to tear down. +</p> +<p> +Marzio's socialism, for so he called it, had one good feature. It was +sincere of its kind, and disinterested. He was not of the common herd, a +lazy vagabond, incapable of continuous work, or of perseverance in any +productive occupation, desiring only to be enriched by impoverishing +others, one of the endless rank and file of Italian republicans, to whom +the word "republic" means nothing but bread without work, and the +liberty which consists in howling blasphemies by day and night in the +public streets. His position was as different from that of a private in +the blackguard battalion as his artistic gifts and his industry were +superior to those of the throng. He had money, he had talent, and he had +been very successful in his occupation. He had nothing to gain by the +revolutions he dreamed of, and he might lose much by any upsetting of +the existing laws of property. He was, therefore, perfectly sincere, so +far as his convictions went, and disinterested to a remarkable degree. +These conditions are often found in the social position of the true +fanatic, who is the more ready to run to the greatest length, because he +entertains no desire to better his own state. Marzio's real weakness lay +in the limited scope of his views, and in a certain timid prudence which +destroyed his power of initiative. He was an economical man, who +distrusted the future; and though such a disposition produces a good +effect in causing a man to save money against the day of misfortune, it +is incompatible with the career of the true enthusiast, who must be +ready to risk everything at any moment. The man who would move other +men, and begin great changes, must have an enormous belief in himself, +an unbounded confidence in his cause, and a large faith in the future, +amounting to the absolute scorn of consequence. +</p> +<p> +These greater qualities Marzio did not possess, and through lack of them +the stupendous results of which he was fond of talking had diminished to +a series of domestic quarrels, in which he was not always victorious. +His hatred of the church was practically reduced to the detestation of +his brother, and to an unreasoning jealousy of his brother's influence +in his home. His horror of social distinctions, which speculated freely +upon the destruction of the monarchy, amounted in practice to nothing +more offensive than a somewhat studious rudeness towards the few +strangers of high position who from time to time visited the workshop in +the Via dei Falegnami. In the back room of his inn, Marzio could find +loud and cutting words in which to denounce the Government, the +monarchy, the church, and the superiority of the aristocracy. In real +fact, Marzio took off his hat when he met the king in the street, paid +his taxes with a laudable regularity, and increased the small fortune he +had saved by selling sacred vessels to the priests against whom he +inveighed. Instead of burning the Vatican and hanging the College of +Cardinals to the pillars of the Colonnade, Marzio Pandolfi felt a very +unpleasant sense of constraint in the presence of the only priest with +whom he ever conversed, his brother Paolo. When, on very rare occasions, +he broke out into angry invective, and ventured to heap abuse upon the +calm individual who excited his wrath, he soon experienced the +counter-shock in the shape of a strong conviction that he had injured +his position rather than bettered it, and the melancholy conclusion +forced itself upon him that by abusing Paolo he himself lost influence +in his own house, and not unfrequently called forth the contempt of +those he had sought to terrify. +</p> +<p> +The position was galling in the extreme; for, like many artists who are +really remarkable in their profession, Marzio was very vain of his +intellectual superiority in other branches. It may be a question whether +vanity is not essential to any one who is forced to compete in +excellence with other gifted men. Vanity means emptiness, and in the +case of the artist it means that emptiness which craves to be filled +with praise. The artist may doubt his own work, but he is bitterly +disappointed if other people doubt it also. Marzio had his full share of +this kind of vanity, which, as in most cases, extended beyond the sphere +of his art. How often does one hear two or three painters or sculptors +who are gathered together in a studio, laying down the law concerning +Government, society, and the distribution of wealth. And yet, though +they make excellent statues and paint wonderful pictures, there are very +few instances on record of artists having borne any important part in +the political history of their times. Not from any want of a desire to +do so, in many cases, but from the real want of the power; and yet many +of them believe themselves far more able to solve political and social +questions than the men who represent them in the Parliament of their +country, or the persons who by innate superiority of tact have made +themselves the arbiters of society. +</p> +<p> +Marzio's vanity suffered terribly, for he realised the wide difference +that existed between his aims and the result actually produced. For this +reason he had determined to bring matters to a point of contention in +his household, in order to assert once and for all the despotic +authority which he believed to be his right. He knew well enough that in +proposing the marriage of Lucia with Carnesecchi, he had hit upon a plan +which Paolo would oppose with all his might. It seemed as though he +could not have selected a question more certain to produce a hot +contention. He had brought forward his proposal boldly, and had not +hesitated to make a most virulent personal attack on his brother when +the latter had shown signs of opposition. And yet, as he sat over his +drawing board, staring at the clouds of smoke that rose from his pipe, +he was unpleasantly conscious that he had not been altogether +victorious, that he had not played the part of the despot to the end, as +he had intended to do, that he had suddenly felt his inferiority to +Paolo's calmness, and that upon hearing of the proposition concerning +the crucifix he had acted as though he had received a bribe to be quiet. +He bit his thin lips as he reflected that all the family must have +supposed his silence from that moment to have been the effect of the +important commission which Paolo had communicated to him; for it seemed +impossible that they should understand the current of his thoughts. +</p> +<p> +As he glanced at the head he had drawn he understood himself better than +others had understood him, for he saw on the corner of the paper the +masterly sketch of an ideal Christ he had sought after for years without +ever reaching it. He knew that that ideal had presented itself to his +mind at the very moment when Paolo had proposed the work to him—the +result perhaps, of the excitement under which he laboured at the moment. +From that instant he had been able to think of nothing. He had been +impelled to draw, and the expression of his thought had driven +everything else out of his mind. Paolo had gained a fancied victory by +means of a fancied bribe. Marzio determined to revenge himself for the +unfair advantage his brother had then taken, by showing himself +inflexible in his resolution concerning the marriage. It was but a small +satisfaction to have braved Gianbattista's boyish threats, after having +seemed to accept the bribe of a priest. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0004" id="h2HCH0004"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER IV +</h2> +<p> +On the following morning, Marzio left the house earlier than usual +Gianbattista had not finished his black coffee, and was not in a humour +to make advances to his master, after the scene of the previous evening. +So he did not move from the table when the chiseller left the room, nor +did he make any remark upon the hour. The door that led to the stairs +had hardly closed after Marzio, when Lucia put her head into the room +where Gianbattista was seated. +</p> +<p> +"He is gone," said the young man; "come in, we can talk a few minutes." +</p> +<p> +"Tista," began, Lucia, coming forward and laying her fingers on his +curly hair, "what did all that mean last night? Have you understood?" +</p> +<p> +"Who understands that lunatic!" exclaimed Gianbattista, passing his arm +round the girl's waist, and drawing her to him. "I only understand one +thing, we must be married as soon as possible and be done with it. Is it +not true, Lucia?" +</p> +<p> +"I hope so," answered his companion, with a blush and a sigh. "But I am +so much afraid." +</p> +<p> +"Do not be afraid, leave it all to me, I will protect you, my darling," +replied the young man, tapping his breast with the ready gesture of an +Italian, as though to prove his courage. +</p> +<p> +"Oh, I am sure of that! But how can it be managed? Of course he cannot +force me to marry Carnesecchi, as Uncle Paolo explained to him. But he +will try, and he is so bad!" +</p> +<p> +"Let him try, let him try," repeated Gianbattista. "I made a bargain +with him last night after you had gone to bed. Do you know what I told +him? I told him that I would stay with him, but that if you married any +one but me, I would cut his throat—Sor Marzio's throat, do you +understand?" +</p> +<p> +"Oh, Tista!" cried Lucia. "How did you ever have the courage to tell him +such a thing? Besides, you know, you would not do it, would you?" +</p> +<p> +"Do not trouble yourself, he saw I was in earnest, and he will think +twice about it. Besides, he said yesterday that I might have you if I +would take you away." +</p> +<p> +"A nice thing for a father to say of his daughter!" exclaimed the girl +angrily. "And what did you answer him then, my love?" +</p> +<p> +"Oh! I said that I had not the slightest objection to the proceeding. +And then he tried to prove to me that we should starve without him, and +then he swore at me like a Turk. What did it matter? He said I was +changed. By Diana! Any man would change, just for the sake of not being +like him!" +</p> +<p> +"How do you mean that you are changed, dear?" asked Lucia anxiously. +</p> +<p> +"Who knows? He said I fawned on Don Paolo like a dog, instead of hating +the priests as I used to do. What do you think, love?" +</p> +<p> +"I think Uncle Paolo would laugh at the idea," answered the girl, +smiling herself, but rather sadly. "I am afraid you are as bad as ever, +in that way." +</p> +<p> +"I am not bad, Lucia. I begin to think I like Don Paolo. He was splendid +last night. Did you see how he stared your father out of countenance, +and then turned him into a lamb with the order for the crucifix? Don +Paolo has a much stronger will than Sor Marzio, and a great deal more +sense. He will make your father change his mind." +</p> +<p> +"Of course it would be for the better if we could be married without any +objection, and I am very glad you are growing fond of Uncle Paolo. But I +have seen it for some time. He is so good!" +</p> +<p> +"Yes. That is the truth," answered Gianbattista in meditative tone. "He +is too good. It is not natural. And then he has a way of making me feel +it. Now, I would have strangled Sor Marzio last night if your uncle had +not been there, but he prevented me. Of course he was right. Those +people always are. But one hates to be set right by a priest. It is +humiliating!" +</p> +<p> +"Well, it is better than not to be set right at all," said Lucia. "You +see, if you had strangled poor papa, it would have been dreadful! Oh, +Tista, promise me that you will not do anything violent! Of course he is +very unkind, I know. But it would be terrible if you were to be angry +and hurt him. You will not, Tista? Tell me you will not?" +</p> +<p> +"We shall see; we shall see, my love!" +</p> +<p> +"You do not love me if you will not promise." +</p> +<p> +"Oh, if that is all, my love, I will promise never to lay a finger on +him until you are actually married to some one else. But then—" +Gianbattista made the gesture which means driving the knife into an +enemy. +</p> +<p> +"Then you may do anything you please," answered Lucia, with a laugh. "He +will never make me marry any one but you. You know that, my heart!" +</p> +<p> +"In that case we ought to be married very soon," argued the young man. +"We need not live here, you know. Indeed, it would be out of the +question. We will take one of those pretty little places in the new +quarter—" +</p> +<p> +"That is so far away," interrupted the girl. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, but there is the tramway, and there are omnibuses. It only takes a +quarter of an hour." +</p> +<p> +"But you would be so far from me all day, my love. I could not run into +the studio at all hours, and you would not come home for dinner. Oh! I +could not bear it!" +</p> +<p> +"Very well, we will try and find something near here," said +Gianbattista, yielding the point. "We will get a little apartment near +the Minerva, where there is sun." +</p> +<p> +"And we will have a terrace on the top of the house, with pots of +carnations." +</p> +<p> +"And red curtains on rings, that we can draw; it is such a pretty light +when the sun shines through them." +</p> +<p> +"And green wall paper with blue furniture," suggested Lucia. "It is so +gay." +</p> +<p> +"Or perhaps the furniture of the same colour as the paper—you know they +have it so in all fashionable houses." +</p> +<p> +"Well, if it is really the fashion, I suppose we must," assented the +girl rather regretfully. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, it is the fashion, my heart, and you must have everything in the +fashion. But I must be going," added the young man, rising from his seat. +</p> +<p> +"Already? It is early, Tista—" she hesitated, "Dear Tista," she began +again, her dark eyes resting anxiously on his face, "what will you say +to him in the workshop? You will tell him that I would rather die than +marry Carnesecchi, that we are solemnly promised, that nothing shall +part us! You will make him see reason, Tista, will you not? I cannot go +to him, or I would; and mamma, poor mamma, is so afraid of him when he +is in his humours. There are only you and Uncle Paolo to manage him; and +after the way he insulted Uncle Paolo last night, it will be all the +harder. Think of it, Tista, while you are at work, and bring me word +when you come to dinner." +</p> +<p> +"Never fear, love," replied Gianbattista confidently; "what else should +I think of while I am hammering away all day? A little kiss, to give me +courage." +</p> +<p> +In a moment he was gone, and his quick step resounded on the stairs as +he ran down, leaving Lucia at the door above, to catch the last good-bye +he called up to her when he reached the bottom. His fresh voice came up +to her mingled with the rattle of the lumbering carts in the street. She +answered the cry and went in. +</p> +<p> +Just then the sleepy Signora Pandolfi emerged from her chamber, clad in +the inevitable skirt and white cotton jacket, her heavy black hair +coiled in an irregular mass on the top of her head, and held in place +by hair-pins that seemed to be on the point of dropping out. +</p> +<p> +"Ah, Lucia, my darling! Such a night as I have passed!" she moaned, +sinking into a chair beside the table, on which the coffee-pot and the +empty cups were still standing. "Such a night, my dear! I have not +closed an eye. I am sure it is the last judgment! And this scirocco, +too, it is enough to kill one!" +</p> +<p> +"Courage, mamma," answered Lucia gaily. "Things are never so bad as they +seem." +</p> +<p> +"Oh, that monster, that monster!" groaned the fat lady. "He would make +an angel lose his patience! Imagine, my dear, he insists that you shall +be married in a fortnight, and he has left me money to go and buy things +for your outfit! Oh dear! What are we to do? I shall go mad, my dear, +and you will all have to take me to Santo Spirito! Oh dear! Oh dear! +This scirocco!" +</p> +<p> +"I think papa will go mad first," said Lucia. "I never heard of such an +insane proposition in my life. All in a moment too—I think I am to +marry Tista—papa gets into a rage and—<i>patatunfate!</i> a new +husband—like a conjuror's trick, such a comedy! I expected to see the +door open at every minute, Pulcinella walk in and beat everybody with a +blown bladder! But Uncle Paolo did quite as well." +</p> +<p> +"Oh, my head!" complained the Signora Pandolfi. "I have not slept a +wink!" +</p> +<p> +"And then it was shameful to see the way papa grew quiet and submissive +when Uncle Paolo gave him the order for the crucifix! If it had been +anybody but papa, I should have said that a miracle had been performed. +But poor papa! No—the miracle of the soldi—that is the truth. I would +like to catch sight of the saint who could work a miracle on papa! +Capers, what a saint he would have to be!" +</p> +<p> +"Bacchus!" ejaculated Maria Luisa, "San Filippo Neri would be nowhere! +The Holy Father would have to make a saint on purpose to convert that +monster! A saint who should have nothing else to do. Oh, how hot it is! +My head is splitting. What are we to do, Lucia, my heart? Tell me a +little what we are to do—two poor women—all alone—oh dear!" +</p> +<p> +"In the first place, it needs courage, mamma," answered Lucia, "and a +cup of coffee. It is still hot, and you have not had any—" +</p> +<p> +"Coffee! Who thinks of coffee?" cried the Signora Pandolfi, taking the +cup from her daughter's hands, and drinking the liquid with more +calmness than might have been anticipated. +</p> +<p> +"That is right," continued the girl. "Drink, mamma, it will do you good. +And then, and then—let me see. And then you must talk to Suntarella +about the dinner. That old woman has no head—" +</p> +<p> +"Dinner!" cried the mother, "who thinks of dinner at such a time? And he +left me the money for the outfit, too! Lucia, my love, I have the +fever—I will go to bed." +</p> +<p> +"Eh! What do you suppose? That is a way out of all difficulties," +answered Lucia philosophically. +</p> +<p> +"But you cannot go out alone—" +</p> +<p> +"I will stay at home in that case." +</p> +<p> +"And then he will come to dinner, and ask to see the things—" +</p> +<p> +"There will be no things to show him," returned the young girl. +</p> +<p> +"Well? And then where should we be?" inquired the Signora Pandolfi. "I +see him, my husband, coming back and finding that nothing has been done! +He would tear his hair! He would kill us! He would bring his broomstick +of a lawyer here to marry you this very afternoon, and what should we +have gained then? It needs judgment, Lucia, my heart—judgment, +judgment!" repeated the fat lady, tapping her forehead. +</p> +<p> +"Eh! If you have not enough for two, mamma, I do not know what we shall +do." +</p> +<p> +"At the same time, something must be done," mused Maria Luisa. "My head +is positively bursting! We might go out and buy half a dozen +handkerchiefs, just to show him that we have begun. Do you think a few +handkerchiefs would quiet him, my love? You could always use them +afterwards—a dozen would be too many—" +</p> +<p> +"Bacchus!" exclaimed Lucia, "I have only one nose." +</p> +<p> +"It is a pity," answered her mother rather irrelevantly. "After all, +handkerchiefs are the cheapest things, and if we spread them out, all +six, on the green sofa, they will make a certain effect—these men! One +must deceive them, my child." +</p> +<p> +"Suppose we did another thing," began Lucia, looking out of the window. +"We might get some things—in earnest, good things. They will always do +for the wedding with Tista. Meanwhile, papa will of course have to +change his mind, and then it will be all right." +</p> +<p> +"What genius!" cried the Signora Pandolfi. "Oh, Lucia! You have found +it! And then we can just step into the workshop on our way—that will +reassure your father." +</p> +<p> +"Perhaps, after all, it would be better to go and tell him the truth," +said Lucia, beginning to walk slowly up and down the room. "He must know +it, sooner or later." +</p> +<p> +"Are you mad, Lucia?" exclaimed her mother, holding up her hands in +horror. "Just think how he would act if you went and faced him!" +</p> +<p> +"Then why not go and find Uncle Paolo?" suggested the girl. "He will +know what is best to be done, and will help us, you may be sure. Of +course, he expected to see us before anything was done in the matter. +But I am not afraid to face papa all alone. Besides, Tista is talking to +him at this very minute. I told him all he was to say, and he has so +much courage!" +</p> +<p> +"I wish I had as much," moaned the Signora Pandolfi, lapsing into +hesitation. +</p> +<p> +"Come, mamma, I will decide for you," said Lucia. "We will go and find +Uncle Paolo, and we will do exactly as he advises." +</p> +<p> +"After all, that is best," assented her mother, rising slowly from her +seat. +</p> +<p> +Half an hour later they left the house upon their errand, but they did +not enter the workshop on their way. Indeed, if they had, they would +have been surprised to find that Marzio was not there, and that +Gianbattista was consequently not talking to him as Lucia had supposed. +</p> +<p> +When Gianbattista reached the workshop, he was told that Marzio had only +remained five minutes, and had gone away so soon as everybody was at +work. He hesitated a moment, wondering whether he might not go home +again and spend another hour in Lucia's company; but it was not possible +to foretell whether Marzio would be absent during the whole morning, and +Gianbattista decided to remain. Moreover, the peculiar smell of the +studio brought with it the idea of work, and with the idea came the love +of the art, not equal, perhaps, to the love of the woman but more +familiar from the force of habit. +</p> +<p> +All men feel such impressions, and most of all those who follow a fixed +calling, and are accustomed to do their work in a certain place every +day. Théophile Gautier confessed in his latter days that he could not +work except in the office of the <i>Moniteur</i>—elsewhere, he said, he +missed the smell of the printers' ink, which brought him ideas. Artists +know well the effect of the atmosphere of the studio. Five minutes of +that paint-laden air suffice to make the outer world a mere dream, and +to recall the reality of work. There was an old dressing-gown to which +Thackeray was attached as to a friend, and which he believed +indispensable to composition. Balzac had his oval writing-room, when he +grew rich, and the creamy white colour of the tapestries played a great +part in his thoughts. The blacksmith loves the smoke of the forge and +the fumes of hot iron on the anvil, and the chiseller's fingers burn to +handle the tools that are strewn on the wooden bench. +</p> +<p> +Gianbattista stood at the door of the studio, and had he been master +instead of apprentice, he could not have resisted the desire to go to +his place and take up the work he had left on the previous evening. In a +few minutes he was hammering away as busily as though there were no such +thing as marriage in the world, and nothing worth living for but the +chiselling of beautiful arabesques on a silver ewer. His head was bent +over his hands, his eyes followed intently the smallest movements of the +tool he held, he forgot everything else, and became wholly absorbed in +his occupation. +</p> +<p> +Nevertheless, much of a chiseller's work is mechanical, and as the +smooth iron ran in and out of the tiny curves under the gentle tap of +the hammer, the young man's thoughts went back to the girl he had left +at the top of the stairs a quarter of an hour earlier; he thought of +her, as he did daily, as his promised wife, and he fell to wondering +when it would be, and how it would be. They often talked of the place in +which they would live, as they had done that morning; and as neither of +them was very imaginative, there was a considerable similarity between +the speculations they indulged in at one time and at another. It was +always to be a snug home, high up, with a terrace, pots of carnations, +and red curtains. Their only difference of opinion concerned the colour +of the walls and furniture. Like most Italians, they had very little +sense of colour, and thought only of having everything gay, as they +called it; that is to say, the upholstery was to be chosen of the most +vivid hues, probably of those horrible tints known as aniline. Italians, +as a rule, and especially those who belong to the same class as the +Pandolfi family, have a strong dislike for the darker and softer tones. +To them anything which is not vivid is sad, melancholy, and depressing +to the senses. Gianbattista saw in his mind's eye a little apartment +after his own heart, and was happy in the idea. But, as he followed the +train of thought, it led him to the comparison of the home to which he +proposed to take his wife with the one in which they now lived under her +father's roof, and suddenly the scene of the previous evening rose +clearly in the young man's imagination. He dropped his hammer, and +stared up at the grated windows. +</p> +<p> +He went over the whole incident, and perhaps for the first time realised +its true importance, and all the danger there might be in the future +should Marzio attempt to pursue his plan to the end. Gianbattista had +only once seen the lawyer who was thus suddenly thrust into his place. +He remembered a thin, cadaverous man, in a long and gloomy black coat, +but that was all. He did not recall his voice, nor the expression of his +face; he had only seen him once, and had thought little enough of the +meeting. It seemed altogether impossible, and beyond the bounds of +anything rational, that this stranger should ever really be brought +forward to be Lucia's husband. +</p> +<p> +For a moment the whole thing looked like an evil dream, and Gianbattista +smiled as he looked down again at his work. Then the reality of the +occurrence rose up again and confronted him stubbornly. He was not +mistaken, Marzio had actually pronounced those words, and Don Paolo had +sprung forward to prevent Gianbattista from attacking his master then +and there. The young man looked at his work, holding his tools in his +hands, but hesitating to lay the point of the chisel on the silver, as +he hesitated to believe the evidence of his memory. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0005" id="h2HCH0005"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER V +</h2> +<p> +Marzio had risen early that morning, as has been said, and had left the +house before any one but Gianbattista was up. He was in reality far from +inclined to drink his coffee in the company of his apprentice, and would +have avoided it, if possible. Nor did he care to meet Lucia until he had +found time and occasion to refresh his anger. His wife was too sleepy to +quarrel, and hardly seemed to understand him when he gave her money and +bade her look to Lucia's outfit, adding that the wedding was to take +place immediately. +</p> +<p> +"Will you not let me sleep in peace, even in the morning?" she groaned. +</p> +<p> +"Magari! I wish you would sleep, and for ever!" growled Marzio, as he +left the room. +</p> +<p> +He drank his coffee in silence, and went out. After looking into the +workshop he walked slowly away in the direction of the Capitol. The damp +morning air was pleasant to him, and the gloomy streets through which he +passed were agreeable to his state of feeling. He wished Home might +always wear such a dismal veil of dampness, scirocco, and cloud. +</p> +<p> +A man in a bad humour will go out of his way to be rained upon and blown +against by the weather. We would all like to change our surroundings +with our moods, to fill the world with sunshine when we are happy, and +with clouds when we have stumbled in the labyrinths of life. Lovers wish +that the whole earth might be one garden, crossed and recrossed by +silent moonlit paths; and when love has taken the one and left the +other, he who stays behind would have his garden changed to an angry +ocean, and the sweet moss banks to storm-beaten rocks, that he may drown +in the depths, or be dashed to pieces by the waves, before he has had +time to know all that he has lost. +</p> +<p> +As we grow older, life becomes the expression of a mood, according to +the way we have lived. He who seeks peace will find that with advancing +age the peaceful moment, that once came so seldom, returns more readily, +and that at last the moments unite to make hours, and the hours to build +up days and years. He who stoops to petty strife will find that the +oft-recurring quarrel has power to perpetuate the discontented weakness +out of which it springs, and that it can make all life a hell. He who +rejoices in action will learn that activity becomes a habit, and at last +excludes the possibility of rest, and the desire for it; and his lot is +the best, for the momentary gladness in a great deed well done is worth +a millennium of sinless, nerveless tranquillity. The positive good is as +much better than the negative "non-bad," as it is better to save a life +than not to destroy a life. But whatever temper of mind we choose will +surely become chronic in time, and will be known to those among whom we +live as our temper, our own particular temper, as distinguished from the +tempers of other people. +</p> +<p> +Marzio had begun life in a bad humour. He delighted in his imaginary +grievances, and inflicted his anger on all who came near him, only +varying the manifestation of it to suit the position in which he chanced +to find himself. With his wife he was overbearing; with his brother he +was insolent; with his apprentice he was sullen; and with his associates +at the old Falcone he played the demagogue. The reason of these phases +was very simple. His wife could not oppose him, Don Paolo would not +wrangle with him, Gianbattista imposed upon him by his superior calm and +strength of character, and, lastly, his socialist friends applauded him +and nattered his vanity. It is impossible for a weak man to appear +always the same, and his weakness is made the more noticeable when he +affects strength. The sinews of goodness are courage, moral and +physical, a fact which places all really good men and women beyond the +reach of ridicule and above the high-water mark of the world's +contempt. +</p> +<p> +Marzio lacked courage, and his virulence boiled most hotly when he had +least to fear for his personal safety. It was owing to this innate +weakness that such a combination of artistic sensitiveness and spasmodic +arrogance was possible. The man's excitable imagination apprehended +opposition where there was none, and his timidity made him fear a +struggle, and hate himself for fearing it. As soon as he was alone, +however, his thoughts generally returned to his art, and found +expression in the delicate execution of the most exquisite fancies. +Under other circumstances his character might have developed in a widely +different way; his talent would still have been the same. There is a +sort of nervous irritability which acts as a stimulant upon the +faculties, and makes them work faster. With Marzio this unnatural state +was chronic, and had become so because he had given himself up to it. It +is a common disease in cities, where a man is forced to associate with +his fellow-men, and to compete with them, whether he is naturally +inclined to do so or not. If Marzio could have exercised his art while +living as a hermit on the top of a lonely mountain he might have been a +much better man. +</p> +<p> +He almost understood this himself as he walked slowly through the Via +delle Botteghe Oscure—"the street of dark shops"—in the early +morning. He was thinking of the crucifix he was to make, and the +interest he felt in it made him dread the consequences of the previous +night's domestic wrangling. He wanted to be alone, and at the same time +he wanted to see places and things which should suggest thoughts to him. +He did not care whither he went so long as he kept out of the new Rome. +When he reached the little garden in front of San Marco he paused, +looked at the deep doorway of the church, remembered the barbarous +mosaics within, and turned impatiently into a narrow street on the +right—the beginning of the Via di Marforio. +</p> +<p> +The network of by-ways in this place is full of old-time memories. Here +is the Via Giulio Romano, where the painter himself once lived; here is +the Macel dei Corvi, where Michael Angelo once lodged; hard by stood the +statue of Marforio, christened by the mediæval Romans after <i>Martis +Forum</i>, and famous as the interlocutor of Pasquino. The place was a +centre of artists and scholars in those days. Many a simple question was +framed here, to fit the two-edged biting answer, repeated from mouth to +mouth, and carefully written down among Pasquino's epigrams. First of +all the low-born Roman hates all that is, and his next thought is to +express his hatred in a stinging satire without being found out. +</p> +<p> +Like every real Roman, Marzio thought of old Marforio as he strolled up +the narrow street towards the Capitol, and regretted the lawless days of +conspiracy and treacherous deeds when every man's hand was against his +fellow. He wandered on, his eyes cast down, and his head bent. Some one +jostled against him, walking quickly in the opposite direction. He +looked up and recognised Gasparo Carnesecchi's sallow face and long +nose. +</p> +<p> +"Eh! Sor Marzio—is it you?" asked the lawyer. +</p> +<p> +"I think so," answered the artist. "Excuse me, I was thinking of +something." +</p> +<p> +"No matter. Of what were you thinking, then? Of Pasquino?" +</p> +<p> +"Why not? But I was thinking of something else. You are in a hurry, I am +sure. Otherwise we would speak of that affair." +</p> +<p> +"I am never in a hurry when there is business to be treated," replied +Carnesecchi, looking down the street and preparing to listen. +</p> +<p> +"You know what I mean," Marzio began. "The matter we spoke of two days +ago—my plans for my daughter." +</p> +<p> +The lawyer glanced quickly at his friend and assumed an indifferent +expression. He was aware that his position, was socially superior to +that of the silver-chiseller, in spite of Marzio's great talent. But he +knew also that Lucia was to have a dowry, and that she would ultimately +inherit all her father possessed. A dowry covers a multitude of sins in +the eyes of a man to whom money is the chief object in life. +Carnesecchi, therefore, meant to extract as many thousands of francs +from Marzio as should be possible, and prepared himself to bargain. The +matter was by no means settled, in spite of the chiseller's instructions +to his wife concerning the outfit. +</p> +<p> +"We must talk," said Carnesecchi. "Not that I should be altogether +averse to coming easily to an understanding, you know. Bat there are +many things to be considered. Let us see." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, let us see," assented the other. "My daughter has education. She +is also sufficiently well instructed. She could make a fine marriage. +But then, you see, I desire a serious person for my son-in-law. What +would you have? One must be prudent." +</p> +<p> +It is not easy to define exactly what a Roman means by the word +"serious." In some measure it is the opposite of gay, and especially of +what is young and unsettled. The German use of the word Philistine +expresses it very nearly. A certain sober, straitlaced way of looking at +life, which was considered to represent morality in Rome fifty years +ago; a kind of melancholy superiority over all sorts of amusements, +joined with a considerable asceticism and the most rigid economy in the +household—that is what was meant by the word "serious." To-day its +signification has been slightly modified, but a serious man—<i>un uomo +serio</i>—still represents to the middle-class father the ideal of the +correct son-in-law. +</p> +<p> +"Eh, without prudence!" exclaimed Carnesecchi, elliptically, as though +to ask where he himself would have been had he not possessed prudence in +abundance. +</p> +<p> +"Exactly," answered Marzio, biting off the end of a common cigar and +fixing his eyes on the lawyer's thin, keen face. "Precisely. I think—of +course I do not know—but I think that you are a serious man. But then, +I may be mistaken." +</p> +<p> +"Well, it is human to err, Sor Marzio. But then, I am no longer of that +age—what shall I say? Everybody knows I am serious. Do I lead the life +of the café? Do I wear out my shoes in Piazza Colonna? Capers! I am a +serious man." +</p> +<p> +"Yes," answered Marzio, though with some hesitation, as though he were +prepared to argue even this point with the sallow-faced lawyer. He +struck a match on the gaudy little paper box he carried and began to +smoke thoughtfully. "Let us make a couple of steps," he said at last. +</p> +<p> +Both men moved slowly on for a few seconds, and then stopped again. In +Italy "a couple of steps" is taken literally. +</p> +<p> +"Let us see," said Carnesecchi. "Let us look at things as they are. In +these days there are many excellent opportunities for investing money." +</p> +<p> +"Hum!" grunted Marzio, pulling a long face and looking up under his +eyebrows. "I know that is your opinion, Sor Gasparo. I am sorry that you +should put so much faith in the stability of things. So you, too, have +got the malady of speculation. I suppose you are thinking of building a +Palazzo Carnesecchi out at Sant' Agnese in eight floors and thirty-two +apartments." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I am mad," answered the lawyer ironically. +</p> +<p> +"Who knows?" returned the other. "I tell you they are building a Pompeii +in those new quarters. When you and I are old men, crazy Englishmen will +pay two francs to be allowed to wander about the ruins." +</p> +<p> +"It may be. I am not thinking of building. In tine first place I have +not the <i>soldi</i>." +</p> +<p> +"And if you had?" inquired Marzio. +</p> +<p> +"What nonsense! Besides, no one has. It is all done on credit, and the +devil take the hindmost. But if I really had a million—eh! I know what +I would do." +</p> +<p> +"Let us hear. I also know what I would do. Besta! What is the use of +building castles in the air?" +</p> +<p> +"In the air, or not in the air, if I had a million, I know what I would +do." +</p> +<p> +"I would have a newspaper," said Marzio. "Whew! how it would sting!" +</p> +<p> +"It would sting you, and bleed you into the bargain," returned the +lawyer with some contempt. "No one makes mosey out of newspapers in +these times. If I had money, I would be a deputy. With prudence there is +much to be earned in the Chambers, and petitioners know that they must +pay cash." +</p> +<p> +"It is certainly a career," assented the artist "But, as you say, it +needs money for the first investment." +</p> +<p> +"Not so much as a million, though. With a good opening, and some +knowledge of the law, a small sum would be enough." +</p> +<p> +"It is a career, as I said," repeated Marzio. "But five thousand francs +would not give you an introduction to it." +</p> +<p> +"Five thousand francs!" exclaimed Carnesecchi, with a scornful laugh. +"With five thousand francs you had better play at the lottery. After +all, if you lose, it is nothing." +</p> +<p> +"It is a great deal of money, Sor Gasparo," replied the chiseller. "When +you have made it little by little—then you know what it means." +</p> +<p> +"Perhaps. But we have been standing here more than a quarter of an +hour, and I have a client waiting for me about a big affair, an affair +of millions." +</p> +<p> +"Bacchus!" ejaculated Marzio. "You are not in a hurry about the matter. +Well, we can always talk, and I will not keep you." +</p> +<p> +"We might walk together, and say what we have to say." +</p> +<p> +"I am going to the Capitol," Marzio said, for he had been walking in +that direction when they met. +</p> +<p> +"That is my way, too," answered the lawyer, forgetting that he had run +into Marzio as he came down the street. +</p> +<p> +"Eh! That is lucky," remarked the artist with an almost imperceptible +smile. "As I was saying," he continued, "five thousand francs is not the +National Bank, but it is a very pretty little sum, especially when there +is something more to be expected in the future." +</p> +<p> +"That depends on the future. But I do not call it a sum. Nothing under +twenty thousand is a sum, properly speaking." +</p> +<p> +"Who has twenty thousand francs?" laughed Marzio, shrugging his +shoulders with an incredulous look. +</p> +<p> +"You talk as though Rome were an asylum for paupers," returned +Carnesecchi. "Who has twenty thousand francs? Why, everybody has. You +have, I have. One must be a beggar not to have that much. After all, we +are talking about business, Sor Marzio. Why should I not say it? I have +always said that I would not marry with less than that for a dowry. Why +should one throw away one's opportunities? To please some one? It is not +my business to try and please everybody. One must be just." +</p> +<p> +"Of course. What? Am I not just? But if justice were done, where would +some people be? I say it, too. If you marry my daughter, you will expect +a dowry. Have I denied it? And then, five thousand is not so little. +There is the outfit, too; I have to pay for that." +</p> +<p> +"That is not my affair," laughed the lawyer. "That is the business of +the woman. But five thousand francs is not my affair either. Think of +the responsibilities a man incurs when he marries! Five thousand! It is +not even a cup of coffee! You are talking to a <i>galantuomo</i>, an honest +man, Sor Marzio. Reflect a little." +</p> +<p> +"I reflect—yes! I reflect that you ask a great deal of money, Signer +Carnesecchi," replied Marzio with some irritation. +</p> +<p> +"I never heard that anybody gave money unless it was asked for." +</p> +<p> +"It will not be for lack of asking if you do not get it," retorted the +artist. +</p> +<p> +"What do you mean, Signor Pandolfi?" inquired Carnesecchi, drawing +himself up to his full height and then striking his hollow chest with +his lean hand. "Do you mean that I am begging money of you? Do you mean +to insult an honest man, a <i>galantuomo</i>? By heaven, Signor Pandolfi, I +would have you know that Gasparo Carnesecchi never asked a favour of any +man! Do you understand? Let us speak clearly." +</p> +<p> +"Who has said anything?" asked Marzio. "Why do you heat yourself in this +way? And then, after all, we shall arrange this affair. You wish it. I +wish it. Why should it not be arranged? If five thousand does not suit +you, name a sum. We are Christians—we will doubtless arrange. But we +must talk. How much should you think, Sor Gasparo?" +</p> +<p> +"I have said it. As I told you just now, I have always said that I would +not marry with less than eighteen thousand francs of dowry. What is the +use of repeating? Words are not roasted chestnuts." +</p> +<p> +"Nor eighteen thousand francs either," answered the other. "Magari! I +wish they were. You should have them in a moment. But a franc is a +franc." +</p> +<p> +"I did not say it was a cabbage," observed Carnesecchi. "After all, why +should I marry?" +</p> +<p> +"Perhaps you will not," suggested Marzio, who was encouraged to continue +the negotiations, however, by the diminution in the lawyer's demands. +</p> +<p> +"Why not?" asked the latter sharply, "Do you think nobody else has +daughters?"' +</p> +<p> +"If it comes to that, why have you not married before?" +</p> +<p> +"Because I did not choose to marry," answered Carnesecchi, beginning to +walk more briskly, as though to push the matter to a conclusion. +</p> +<p> +Marzio said nothing in reply. He saw that his friend was pressing him, +and understood that, to do so, the lawyer must be anxious to marry +Lucia. The chiseller therefore feigned indifference, and was silent for +some minutes. At the foot of the steps of the Capitol he stopped again. +</p> +<p> +"You know, Sor Gasparo," he said, "the reason why I did not arrange +about Lucia's marriage a long time ago, was because I was not +particularly in a hurry to have her married at all. And I am not in a +hurry now, either. We shall have plenty of opportunities of discussing +the matter hereafter. Good-bye, Sor Gasparo. I have business up there, +and that client of yours is perhaps impatient about his millions." +</p> +<p> +"Good-bye," answered Carnesecchi. "There is plenty of time, as you say. +Perhaps we may meet this evening at the Falcone." +</p> +<p> +"Perhaps," said Marab drily, and turned away. +</p> +<p> +He had a good understanding of his friend's character, and though in his +present mood he would have been glad to fix the wedding day, and sign +the marriage contract at once, he had no intention of yielding to +Carnesecchi's exorbitant demands. The lawyer was in need of money, +Marzio thought, and as he himself was the possessor of what the other +coveted, there could be little doubt as to the side on which the +advantage would ultimately be taken. Marzio went half-way up the steps +of the Capitol, and then stopped to look at the two wretched wolves +which the Roman municipality thinks it incumbent on the descendants of +Romulus to support. He thought one of them very like Carnesecchi. He +watched the poor beasts a moment or two as they tramped and swung and +pressed their lean sides against the bars of their narrow cage. +</p> +<p> +"What a sympathetic animal it is!" he exclaimed aloud. A passer-by +stared at him and then went on hurriedly, fearing that he might be mad. +Indeed, there was a sort of family likeness between the lawyer, the +chiseller, and the wolves. +</p> +<p> +Other thoughts, however, occupied Marzio's attention; and as soon as he +was sure that his friend was out of the way, he descended the steps. He +did not care whither he went, but he had no especial reason for climbing +the steep ascent to the Capitol. The crucifix his brother had ordered +from him on the previous evening engaged his attention, and it was as +much for the sake of being alone and of thinking about the work that he +had taken his solitary morning walk, as with the hope of finding in some +church a suggestion or inspiration which might serve him. He knew what +was to be found in Roman churches well enough; the Crucifixion in the +Trinità dei Pellegrini and the one in San Lorenzo in Lucina—both by +Guido Reni, and both eminently unsympathetic to his conception of the +subject—he had often looked at them, and did not care to see them +again. At last he entered the Church of the Gesù, and sat down upon a +chair in a corner. +</p> +<p> +He did not look up. The interior of the building was as familiar to him +as the outside. He sat in profound thought, occasionally twisting his +soft hat in his hands, and then again remaining quite motionless. He did +not know how long he stayed there. The perfect silence was pleasant to +him, and when he rose he felt that the idea he had sought was found, and +could be readily expressed. With a sort of sigh of satisfaction he went +out again into the air and walked quickly towards his workshop. +</p> +<p> +The men told him that Gianbattista was busy within, and after glancing +sharply at the work which was proceeding, Marzio opened the inner door +and entered the studio. He strode up to the table and took up the body +of the ewer, which lay on its pad where he had left it the night before. +He held it in his hands for a moment, and then, pushing the leather +cushion towards Gianbattista, laid it down. +</p> +<p> +"Finish it," he said shortly; "I have something else to do." +</p> +<p> +The apprentice looked up in astonishment, as though he suspected that +Marzio was jesting. +</p> +<p> +"I am afraid—" he answered with hesitation. +</p> +<p> +"It makes no difference; finish it as best you can; I am sick of it; you +will do it well enough. If it is bad, I will take the responsibility." +</p> +<p> +"Do you mean me really to finish it—altogether?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes; I tell you I have a great work on hand. I cannot waste my time +over such toys as acanthus leaves and cherubs' eyes!" He bent down and +examined the thing carefully. "You had better lay aside the neck and +take up the body just where I left it, Tista," he continued. "The +scirocco is in your favour. If it turns cold to-morrow the cement may +shrink, and you will have to melt it out again." +</p> +<p> +Marzio spoke to him as though there had not been the least difference +between them, as though Gianbattista had not proposed to cut his throat +the night before, as though he himself had not proposed to marry +Carnesecchi to Lucia. +</p> +<p> +"Take my place," he said. "The cord is the right length for you, as it +is too short for me. I am going to model." +</p> +<p> +Without more words Marzio went and took a large and heavy slate from +the corner, washed it carefully, and dried it with his handkerchief. +Then he provided himself with a bowl full of twisted lengths of red wax, +and with a couple of tools he sat down to his work. Gianbattista, having +changed his seat, looked over the tools his master had been using, with +a workman's keen glance, and, taking up his own hammer, attacked the +task given him. For some time neither of the men spoke. +</p> +<p> +"I have been to church," remarked Marzio at last, as he softened a piece +of wax between his fingers before laying it on the slate. The news was +so astounding that Gianbattista uttered an exclamation of surprise. +</p> +<p> +"You need not be frightened," answered the artist. "I only went to look +at a picture, and I did not look at it after all. I shall go to a great +many more churches before I have finished this piece of work. You ought +to go to the churches and study, Tista. Everything is useful in our +art—pictures, statues, mosaics, metal-work. Now I believe there is not +a really good crucifix, nor a crucifixion, in Rome. It is strange, too, +I have dreamed of one all my life." +</p> +<p> +Gianbattista did not find any answer ready in reply to the statement. +The words sounded so strangely in Marzio's mouth this morning, that the +apprentice was confused. And yet the two had often discussed the subject +before. +</p> +<p> +"You do not seem to believe me," continued Marzio quietly. "I assure you +it is a fact. The other things of the kind are not much better either. +Works of art, perhaps, but not satisfactory. Even Michael Angelo's +<i>Pietà</i> in Saint Peter's does not please me. They say it did not please +the people of his time either—he was too young to do anything of that +sort—he was younger than you, Tista, only twenty-four years old when he +made that statue." +</p> +<p> +"Yes," answered Gianbattista, "I have heard you say so." He bent over +his work, wondering what his master meant by this declaration of taste. +It seemed as though Marzio felt the awkwardness of the situation and was +exerting himself to make conversation. The idea was so strange that the +apprentice could almost have laughed. Marzio continued to soften the wax +between his fingers, and to lay the pieces of it on the slate, pressing +them roughly into the shape of a figure. +</p> +<p> +"Has Paolo been here?" asked the master after another long pause. +</p> +<p> +Gianbattista merely shook his head to express a negative. +</p> +<p> +"Then he will come," continued Marzio. "He will not leave me in peace +all day, you may be sure." +</p> +<p> +"What should he come for? He never comes," said the young man. +</p> +<p> +"He will be afraid that I will have Lucia married before supper time. I +know him—and he knows me." +</p> +<p> +"If he thinks that, he does not know you at all," answered Gianbattista +quietly. +</p> +<p> +"Indeed?" exclaimed Marzio, raising his voice to the ironical tone he +usually affected when any one contradicted him. "To-day, to-morrow, or +the next day, what does it matter? I told you last night that I had made +up my mind." +</p> +<p> +"And I told you that I had made up mine." +</p> +<p> +"Oh yes—boy's threats! I am not the man to be intimidated by that sort +of thing. Look here, Tista, I am in earnest. I have considered this +matter a long time; I have determined that I will not be browbeaten any +longer by two women and a priest—certainly not by you. If things go on +as they are going, I shall soon not be master in my own house." +</p> +<p> +"You would be the only loser," retorted Gianbattista. +</p> +<p> +"Have done with this, Tista!" exclaimed Marzio angrily. "I am tired of +your miserable jokes. You have gone over to the enemy, you are Paolo's +man, and if I tolerate you here any longer it is merely because I have +taught you something, and you are worth your wages. As for the way I +have treated you during all these years, I cannot imagine how I could +have been such a fool. I should think anybody might see through your +hypocritical ways." +</p> +<p> +"Go on," said Gianbattista calmly. "You know our bargain of last night" +</p> +<p> +"I will risk that. If I see any signs of your amiable temper I will have +you arrested for threatening my life. I am not afraid of you, my boy, +but I do not care to die just at present. You have all had your way long +enough, I mean to have mine now." +</p> +<p> +"Let us talk reasonably, Sor Marzio. You say we have had our way. You +talk as though you had been in slavery in your own house. I do not think +that is the opinion of your wife, nor of your daughter. As for me, I +have done nothing but execute your orders for years, and if I have +learnt something, it has not been by trying to overrule you or by +disregarding your advice. Two years ago, you almost suggested to me that +I should marry Lucia. Of course, I asked nothing better, and we agreed +to wait until she was old enough. We discussed the matter a thousand +times. We settled the details. I agreed to go on working for the same +small wages instead of leaving you, as I might have done, to seek my +fortune elsewhere. You see I am calm, I acknowledge that I was grateful +to you for having taught me so much, and I am grateful still. You have +just given me another proof of your confidence in putting this work into +my hands to finish. I am grateful for that. Well, we have talked of the +marriage often; I have lived in your house; I have seen Lucia every day, +for you have let us be together as much as we pleased; the result is +that I not only am more anxious to marry her than I was before—I love +her; I am not ashamed to say so. I know you laugh at women and say they +are no better than monkeys with parrots' heads. I differ from you. Lucia +is an angel, and I love her as she loves me. What happens? One day you +take an unreasonable dislike for me, without even warning me of the +fact, and then, suddenly, last night, you come home and say she is to +marry the Avvocato Gasparo Carnesecchi. Now, for a man who has taught me +that there is no God but reason, all this strikes me as very +unreasonable. Honestly, Sor Marzio, do you not think so yourself?" +</p> +<p> +Marzio looked at his apprentice and frowned, as though hesitating +whether to lose his temper and launch into the invective style, or to +answer Gianbattista reasonably. Apparently he decided in favour of the +more peaceable course. +</p> +<p> +"It is unworthy of a man who follows reason to lose his self-control and +indulge in vain threats," he answered, assuming a grand didactic air. +"You attempt to argue with me. I will show you what argument really +means, and whither it leads. Now answer me some questions, Tista, and I +will prove that you are altogether in the wrong. When a man is devoted +to a great and glorious cause, should he not do everything in his power +to promote its success against those who oppose it?" +</p> +<p> +"Undoubtedly," assented Gianbattista. +</p> +<p> +"And should not a man be willing to sacrifice his individual preferences +in order to support and to further the great end of his life?" +</p> +<p> +"Bacchus! I believe it!" +</p> +<p> +"Then how much the more easy must it be for a man to support his cause +when there are no individual preferences in the way!" said Marzio +triumphantly. "That is true reason, my boy. That is the inevitable logic +of the great system." +</p> +<p> +"I do not understand the allegory," answered Gianbattista. +</p> +<p> +"It is as simple as roasted chestnuts," returned Marzio. "Even if I +liked you, it would be my duty to prevent you from marrying Lucia. As I +do not like you—you understand?" +</p> +<p> +"I understand that," replied the young man. "For some reason or other +you hate me. But, apart from the individual preferences, which you say +it is your duty to overcome, I do not see why you are morally obliged +to hinder our marriage, after having felt morally obliged to promote +it?" +</p> +<p> +"Because you are a traitor to the cause," cried Marzio, with sudden +fierceness. "Because you are a friend of Paolo. Is not that enough?" +</p> +<p> +"Poor Don Paolo seems to stick in your throat," observed Gianbattista. +"I do not see what he has done, except that he prevented me from killing +you last night!" +</p> +<p> +"Paolo! Paolo is a snake, a venomous viper! It is his business, his only +aim in life, to destroy my peace, to pervert my daughter from the +wholesome views I have tried to teach her, to turn you aside from the +narrow path of austere Italian virtue, to draw you away from following +in the footsteps of Brutus, of Cassius, of the great Romans, of me, your +teacher and master! That is all Paolo cares for, and it is enough—more +than enough! And he shall pay me for his presumptuous interference, the +villain!" +</p> +<p> +Marzio's voice sank into a hissing whisper as he bent over the wax he +was twisting and pressing. Gianbattista glanced at his pale face, and +inwardly wondered at the strange mixture of artistic genius, of +bombastic rhetoric and relentless hatred, all combined in the strange +man whom destiny had given him for a master. He wondered, too, how he +had ever been able to admire the contrasts of virulence and weakness, +of petty hatred and impossible aspirations which had of late revealed +themselves to him in a new light. Have we not most of us assisted at the +breaking of the Image of Baal, at the destruction of an imaginary +representative of an illogical ideal? +</p> +<p> +"Well, Sor Marzio," said Gianbattista after a pause, "if I were to +return to my worship of you and your principles—what would you do? +Would you take me back to your friendship and give me your daughter?" +</p> +<p> +Marzio looked up suddenly, and stared at the apprentice in surprise. But +the fresh young face gave no sign. Gianbattista had spoken quietly, and +was again intent upon his work. +</p> +<p> +"If you gave me a proof of your sincerity," answered Marzio, in low +tones, "I would do much for you. Yes, I would give you Lucia—and the +business too, when I am too old to work. But it must be a serious +proof—no child's play." +</p> +<p> +"What do you call a serious proof? A profession of faith?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes—sealed with the red wax that is a little thicker than water," +answered Marzio grimly, his eyes still fixed on Gianbattista's face. +</p> +<p> +"In blood," said the young man calmly. "Whose blood would you like, Sor +Marzio?" +</p> +<p> +"Paolo's!" +</p> +<p> +The chiseller spoke in a scarcely audible whisper, and bent low over +his slate, modelling hard at the figure under his fingers. +</p> +<p> +"I thought so," muttered Gianbattista between his teeth. Then he raised +his voice a little and continued: "And have you the courage, Sor Marzio, +to sit there and bargain with me to kill your brother, bribing me with +the offer of your daughter's hand? Why do you not kill him yourself, +since you talk of such things?" +</p> +<p> +"Nonsense, my dear Tista—I was only jesting," said the other nervously. +"It is just like your folly to take me in earnest." The anger had died +out of Marzio's voice and he spoke almost persuasively. +</p> +<p> +"I do not know," answered the young man. "I think you were in earnest +for a moment. I would not advise you to talk in that way before any one +else. People might interpret your meaning seriously." +</p> +<p> +"After all, you yourself were threatening to cut my throat last night," +said Marzio, with a forced laugh. "It is the same thing. My life is as +valuable as Paolo's. I only suggested that you should transfer your +tender attentions from me to my brother." +</p> +<p> +"It is one thing to threaten a man to his face. It is quite another to +offer a man a serious inducement to commit murder. Since you have been +so very frank with me, Sor Marzio, I will confess that if the choice lay +between killing you, or killing Don Paolo, under the present +circumstances I would not hesitate a moment." +</p> +<p> +"And which would you—" +</p> +<p> +"Neither," replied the young man, with a cool laugh. "Don Paolo is too +good to be killed, and you are not good enough. Come and look at the +cherub's head I have made." +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0006" id="h2HCH0006"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER VI +</h2> +<p> +Lucia's cheerfulness was not genuine, and any one possessing greater +penetration than her mother would have understood that she was, in +reality, more frightened than she was willing to show. The girl had a +large proportion of common sense, combined with a quicker perception +than the stout Signora Pandolfi. She did not think that she knew +anything about logic, and she had always shown a certain inconsistency +in her affection for Gianbattista, but she had nevertheless a very clear +idea of what was reasonable, a quality which is of immense value in +difficulties, though it is very often despised in every-day life by +people who believe themselves blessed by the inspirations of genius. +</p> +<p> +It seems very hard to make people of other nationalities understand that +the Italians of the present day are not an imaginative people. It is +nevertheless true, and it is only necessary to notice that they produce +few, if any, works of imagination. They have no writers of fiction, no +poets, few composers of merit and few artists who rank with those of +other nations. They possessed the creative faculty once; they have lost +it in our day, and it does not appear that they are likely to regain it. +On the other hand, the Italians are remarkable engineers, first-rate +mathematicians, clever, if unscrupulous, diplomatists. Though they +overrate their power and influence, they have shown a capacity for +organisation which is creditable on the whole. If they fail to obtain +the position they seek in Europe, their failure will have been due to +their inordinate vanity and over-governing, if I may coin the word, +rather than to an innate want of intelligence. +</p> +<p> +The qualities and defects of the Italian nation all existed in the +Pandolfi family. Marzio possessed more imagination than most of his +countrymen, and he had, besides, that extraordinary skill in his manual +execution of his work, which Italians have often exhibited on a large +scale. On the other hand, he was full of bombastic talk about principles +which he called great. His views concerning society, government, and the +future of his country, were entirely without balance, and betrayed an +amazing ignorance of the laws which, direct the destinies of mankind. He +suffered in a remarkable degree from that mental disease which afflicts +Italians—the worship of the fetish—of words which mean little, and are +supposed to mean much, of names in history which have been exalted by +the rhetoric of demagogues from the obscurity to which they had been +wisely consigned by the judgment of scholars. He was alternately weak +and despotic, cunning about small things which concerned his own +fortunes, and amazingly foolish about the set of ideas which he loosely +defined as politics. +</p> +<p> +Lucia's nature illustrated another phase of the Italian character, and +one which, if it is less remarkable, is much more agreeable. She +possessed the character which looks at everything from the point of view +of daily life. Without imagination, she regarded only the practical side +of existence. Her vanity was confined to a modest wish to make the best +of her appearance, while her ambition went no further than the strictest +possibility, in the shape of a marriage with Gianbattista Bordogni, and +a simple little apartment with a terrace and pots of pinks. Had she +known how much richer her father was than she suspected him of being, +the enlargement of her views for the future would have been marked by a +descent, from the fourth story of the house which was to be her +imaginary home, to the third story. It could never have entered her head +that Gianbattista ought to give up his profession until he was too old +to work any longer. In her estimation, the mere possession of money +could not justify a change of social position. She had been accustomed +from her childhood to hear her father air his views in regard to the +world in general, but his preaching had produced but little impression +upon her. When he thought she was listening in profound attention to his +discourse, she was usually wishing that he could be made to see the +absurdity of his theories. She wished also that he would sacrifice some +of his enthusiasm for the sake of a little more quiet in the house, for +she saw that his talking distressed her mother. Further than this she +cared little what he said, and not at all for what he thought. Her mind +was generally occupied with the one subject which absorbed her thoughts, +and which had grown to be by far the most important part of her nature, +her love for Gianbattista Bordogni. +</p> +<p> +Upon that point she was inflexible. Her Uncle Paolo might have led her +to change her mind in regard to many things, for she was open to +persuasion where her common sense was concerned. But in her love for +Gianbattista she was fixed and determined. It would have been more easy +to turn her father from his ideas than to make Lucia give up the man she +loved. When Marzio had suddenly declared that she should marry the +lawyer, her first feeling had been one of ungovernable anger which had +soon found vent in tears. During the night she had thought the matter +over, and had come to the conclusion that it was only an evil jest, +invented by Marzio to give her pain. But in the morning it seemed to +her as though on the far horizon a black cloud of possible trouble were +gathering; she had admitted to herself that her father might be in +earnest, and she had felt something like the anticipation of the great +struggle of her life. Then she felt that she would die rather than +submit. +</p> +<p> +She had no theatrical desire to swear a fearful oath with Gianbattista +that they should drown themselves at the Ponte Quattro Capi rather than +be separated. Her nature was not dramatic, any more than his. The young +girl dressed herself quickly, and made up her mind that if any pressure +were brought to bear upon her she would not yield, but that, until then, +there was no use in making phrases, and it would be better to be as +cheerful as possible under the circumstances. But for Lucia's reassuring +manner, the Signora Pandolfi would have doubtless succumbed to her +feelings and gone to bed. Lucia, however, had no intention of allowing +her mother any such weakness, and accordingly alternately comforted her +and suggested means of escape from the position, as though she were +herself the mother and Maria Luisa were her child. +</p> +<p> +They found Don Paolo in his small lodging, and he bid them enter, that +they might all talk the matter over. +</p> +<p> +"In the first place," said the priest, "it is wrong. In the second +place it is impossible. Thirdly, Marzio will not attempt to carry out +his threat." +</p> +<p> +"Dear me! How simple you make it seem!" acclaimed the Signora Pandolfi, +reviving at his first words, like a tired horse when he sees the top of +the hill. +</p> +<p> +"But if papa should try and force me to it—what then?" asked Lucia, who +was not so easily satisfied. +</p> +<p> +"He cannot force you to it, my child—the law will not allow him to do +so. I told you so last night" +</p> +<p> +"But the law is so far off—and he is so violent" answered the young +girl. +</p> +<p> +"Never fear," said Don Paolo, reassuring her. "I will manage it all. +These will be a struggle, perhaps; but I will make him see reason. He +had been with his friends last night, and his mind was excited; he was +not himself. He will have thought differently of it this morning;" +</p> +<p> +"On the contrary," put in the Signora Pandolfi, "he waked me up at +daylight and gave me a quantity of money to go and buy Lucia's outfit. +And he will come home at midday and ask to see the things I have +brought, and so I thought perhaps we had better buy something just to +show him—half a dozen handkerchiefs—something to make a figure, you +understand?" +</p> +<p> +Don Paolo smiled, and Lucia looked sympathetically from him to her +mother. +</p> +<p> +"I am afraid that half a dozen handkerchiefs would have a bad effect," +said the priest. "Either he would see that you are not in earnest, and +then he would be very angry, or else he would be deceived and would +think that you were really buying the outfit. In that case you would +have done harm. This thing must not go any further. The idea must be got +out of his head as soon as possible." +</p> +<p> +"But if I do nothing at all before dinner he will be furious—he will +cry out that we are all banded together against him—" +</p> +<p> +"So we are," said Don Paolo simply. +</p> +<p> +"Oh dear, oh dear!" moaned the Signora Pandolfi, looking for her +handkerchief in the anticipation of fresh tears. +</p> +<p> +"Do not cry, mamma. It is of no use," said Lucia. +</p> +<p> +"No, it is of no use to cry," assented the priest. "There is nothing to +be done but to go and face Marzio, and not leave him until he has +changed his mind. You are afraid to meet him at midday. I will go now to +the workshop and find him." +</p> +<p> +"Oh, you are an angel, Paolo!" cried Maria Luisa, regaining her +composure and replacing her handkerchief in her pocket. "Then we need +not buy anything? What a relief!" +</p> +<p> +"I told you Uncle Paolo would know what to do," said Lucia. "He is so +good—and so courageous. I would not like to face papa this morning. +Will you really go, Uncle Paolo?" The young girl went and took down his +cloak and hat from a peg on the wall, and brought them to him. +</p> +<p> +"Of course I will go, and at once," he answered. "But I must give you a +word of advice." +</p> +<p> +"We will do everything you tell us," said the two women together. +</p> +<p> +"You must not ask him any questions, nor refer to the matter at all when +he comes home." +</p> +<p> +"Diana! I would as soon speak of death!" exclaimed the Signora Pandolfi. +</p> +<p> +"And if he begins to talk about it you must not answer him, nor irritate +him in any way." +</p> +<p> +"Be easy about that," answered the fat lady. "Never meddle with sleeping +dogs—I know." +</p> +<p> +"If he grows very angry you must refer him to me." +</p> +<p> +"Oh, but that is another matter! I would rather offer pepper to a cat +than talk to him of you. You would see how he would curse and swear and +call you by bad names." +</p> +<p> +"Well, you must not do anything to make him swear, because that would be +a sin; but if he only abuses me, I do not mind. He will do that when I +talk to him. Perhaps after all, if he mentions the matter, you had +better remain silent." +</p> +<p> +"Eh! that will be easy. He talks so much, and he talks so fast, never +waiting for an answer. But are you not afraid for yourself, dear Paolo?" +</p> +<p> +"Oh, he will not hurt me—I am not afraid of him," answered the priest. +"He will talk a little, he will use some big words, and then it will be +finished. You see, it is not a great thing, after all. Take courage, +Maria Luisa, it will be a matter of half an hour." +</p> +<p> +"Heaven grant it may be only that!" murmured Marzio's wife, turning up +her eyes, and rising from her chair. +</p> +<p> +Lucia, who, as has been said, had a very keen appreciation of facts, did +not believe that things would go so smoothly. +</p> +<p> +"You had better come back with him to our house when it is all over," +she said, "just to give us a sign that it is settled, you know, Uncle +Paolo." +</p> +<p> +Don Paolo himself had his doubts about the issue, although he put such a +brave face on it, and in spite of the Signora Pandolfi. That good lady +was by nature very sincere, but she always seemed to bring an irrelevant +and comic element into the proceedings. +</p> +<p> +The result of the interview was that, in half an hour, Don Paolo knocked +at the door of the workshop in the Via dei Falegnami, where Marzio and +Gianbattista were at work. The chiseller's voice bade him enter. +</p> +<p> +Don Paolo had not found much time to collect his thoughts before he +reached the scene of battle, but his opinion of the matter in hand was +well formed. He loved his niece, and he had begun to like Gianbattista. +He knew the lawyer, Carnesecchi, by reputation, and what he had heard of +him did not prejudice him in the man's favour. It would have been the +same had Marzio chosen any one else. In the priest's estimation, +Gianbattista had a right to expect the fulfilment of the many promises +which had been made to him. To break those promises for no ostensible +reason, just as Gianbattista seemed to be growing up to be a sensible +man, was an act of injustice which Don Paolo would not permit if he +could help it. Gianbattista was not, perhaps, a model man, but, by +contrast with Marzio, he seemed almost saintly. He had a good +disposition and no vices; married to Lucia and devoted to his art, much +might be expected of him. On the other hand, Gasparo Carnesecchi +represented the devil in person. He was known to be an advanced +freethinker, a radical, and, perhaps, worse than a radical—a socialist. +He was certainly not very rich, and Lucia's dowry would be an object to +him; he would doubtless spend the last copper of the money in attempting +to be elected to the Chambers. If he succeeded, he would represent +another unit in that ill-guided minority which has for its sole end the +subversion of the existing state of things. He would probably succeed in +getting back the money he had spent, and more also, by illicit means. If +he failed, the money would be lost, and he would go from bad to worse, +intriguing and mixing himself up with the despicable radical press, in +the hope of getting a hearing and a place. +</p> +<p> +There is a scale in the meaning of the word socialist. In France it +means about the same thing as a communist, when one uses plain language. +When one uses the language of Monsieur Dramont, it means a Jew. In +England a socialist is equal to a French conservative republican. In +America it means a thief. In Germany it means an ingenious individual of +restricted financial resources, who generally fails to blow up some +important personage with wet dynamite. In Italy a socialist is an +anarchist pure and simple, who wishes to destroy everything existing for +the sake of dividing a wealth which does not exist at all. It also means +a young man who orders a glass of water and a toothpick at a <i>café</i>, and +is able to talk politics for a considerable time on this slender +nourishment. Signor Succi and Signor Merlatti have discovered nothing +new. Their miracles of fasting may be observed by the curious at any +time in a Roman <i>café</i>. +</p> +<p> +Don Paolo regarded the mere idea of an alliance with Gasparo +Carnesecchi as an outrage upon common sense, and when he entered +Marzio's workshop he was determined to say so. Marzio looked up with an +air of inquiry, and Gianbattista foresaw what was coming. He nodded to +the priest, and brought forward the old straw chair from the corner; +then he returned to his work in silence. +</p> +<p> +"You will have guessed my errand," Don Paolo began, by way of +introducing his subject. +</p> +<p> +"No," answered Marzio doggedly. "Something about the crucifix, I +suppose." +</p> +<p> +"Not at all," returned the priest, folding his hands over the handle of +his umbrella. "A much more delicate matter. You suggested last night an +improbable scheme for marrying Lucia." +</p> +<p> +"You had better say that I told you plainly what I mean to do. If you +have come to talk about that, you had better talk to the workmen +outside. They may answer you. I will not!" +</p> +<p> +Don Paolo was not to be so easily put off. He waited a moment as though +to give Marzio time to change his mind, and then proceeded. +</p> +<p> +"There are three reasons why this marriage will not take place," he +said. "In the first place, it is wrong—that is my point of view. In the +second place, it is impossible—and that is the view the law takes of +it. Thirdly, it will not take place because you will not attempt to push +it. What do you say of my reasons, Marzio?" +</p> +<p> +"They are worthy of you," answered the artist. "In the first place, I do +not care a fig for what you think is wrong, or right either. Secondly, I +will take the law into my own hands. Thirdly, I will bring it about and +finish it in a fortnight; and fourthly, you may go to the devil! What do +you think of my reasons, Paolo? They are better than yours, and much +more likely to prevail." +</p> +<p> +"My dear Marzio," returned the priest quietly, "you may say anything you +please, I believe, in these days of liberty. But the law will not permit +you to act upon your words. If you can persuade your daughter to marry +Gasparo Carnesecchi of her own free will, well and good. If you cannot, +there is a statute, I am quite sure, which forbids your dragging her up +the steps of the Capitol, and making her sign her name by force or +violence in the presence of the authorities. You may take my word for +it; and so you had better dismiss the matter from your mind at once, and +think no more about it." +</p> +<p> +"I remember that you told her so last night," growled Marzio, growing +pale with anger. +</p> +<p> +"Certainly." +</p> +<p> +"You—you—you priest!" cried the chiseller, unable in his rage to find +an epithet which he judged more degrading. Don Paolo smiled. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I am a priest," he answered calmly. +</p> +<p> +"Yea, you are a priest," yelled Marzio, "and what is to become of +paternal authority in a household where such fellows as you are +listening at the keyholes? Is a man to have no more rights? Are we to be +ruled by women and creatures in petticoats? Viper! Poisoning my +household, teaching my daughter to disobey me, my wife to despise me, my +paid workmen to—" +</p> +<p> +"Silence!" cried Gianbattista in ringing tones, and with the word he +sprang to his feet and clapped his hand on Marzio's mouth. +</p> +<p> +The effect was sudden and unexpected. Marzio was utterly taken by +surprise. It was incredible to him that any one should dare to forcibly +prevent him from indulging in the language he had used with impunity for +so many years. He leaned back pale and astonished, and momentarily dumb +with amazement. Gianbattista stood over him, his young cheeks flushed +with anger, and his broad fist clenched. +</p> +<p> +"If you dare to talk in that way to Don Paolo, I will kill you with my +hands!" he said, his voice sinking lower with concentrated +determination. "I have had enough of your foul talk. He is a better man +than you, as I told you last night, and I repeat it now—take care—" +</p> +<p> +Marzio made a movement as though he would rise, and at the same instant +Gianbattista seized the long, fine-pointed punch, which served for the +eyes of the cherubs—a dangerous weapon in a determined hand. +</p> +<p> +Don Paolo had risen from his chair, and was trying to push himself +between the two. But Gianbattista would not let him. +</p> +<p> +"For heaven's sake," cried the priest in great distress, "no violence, +Tista—I will call the men—" +</p> +<p> +"Never fear," answered the apprentice quietly; "the man is a coward." +</p> +<p> +"To me—you dare to say that to me!" exclaimed Marzio, drawing back at +the same time. +</p> +<p> +"Yes—it is quite true. But do not suppose that I think any the worse of +you on that account, Sor Marzio." +</p> +<p> +With this taunt, delivered in a voice that expressed the most profound +contempt, Gianbattista went back to his seat and took up his hammer as +though nothing had happened. Don Paolo drew a long breath of relief. As +for Marzio, his teeth chattered with rage. His weakness had been +betrayed at last, and by Gianbattista. All his life he had succeeded in +concealing the physical fear which his words belied. He had cultivated +the habit of offering to face danger, speaking of it in a quiet way, as +he had observed that brave men did. He had found it good policy to tell +people that he was not afraid of them, and his bearing had hitherto +saved him from physical violence. Now he felt as though all his nerves +had been drawn out of his body. He had been terrified, and he knew that +he had shown it. Gianbattista's words stung in his ears like the sting +of wasps. +</p> +<p> +"You shall never enter this room again," he hissed out between his +teeth. The young man shrugged his shoulders as though he did not care. +Don Paolo sat down again and grasped his umbrella. +</p> +<p> +"Gianbattista," said the priest, "I am grateful to you for your +friendship, my boy. But it is very wrong to be violent—" +</p> +<p> +"It is one of the seven deadly sins!" cried Marzio, finding his voice at +last, and by a strange accident venting his feelings in a sentence which +might have been spoken by a confessor to a penitent. +</p> +<p> +Gianbattista could not help laughing, but he shook his head as though to +explain that it was not his fault if he was violent with such a man. +</p> +<p> +"It is very wrong to threaten people, Tista," repeated Don Paolo; "and +besides it does not hurt me, what Marzio says. Let us all be calm. +Marzio, let us discuss this matter reasonably. Tista, do not be angry at +anything that is said. There is nothing to be done but to look at the +question quietly." +</p> +<p> +"It is very well for you to talk like that," grumbled Marzio, +pretending to busy himself over his model in order to cover his +agitation. +</p> +<p> +"It is of no use to talk in any other way," answered the priest "I +return to the subject. I only want to convince you that you will find it +impossible to carry out your determination by force. You have only to +ask the very man you have hit upon, the Avvocato Garnesecchi, and he +will tell you the same thing. He knows the law better than you or I. He +will refuse to be a party to such an attempt. Ask him, if you do not +believe me." +</p> +<p> +"Yes; a pretty position you want to put me in, by the body of a dog! To +ask a man to marry my daughter by force! A fine opinion he would +conceive of my domestic authority! Perhaps you will take upon yourself +to go and tell him—won't you, dear Paolo? It would save me the +trouble." +</p> +<p> +"I think that is your affair," answered Don Paolo, taking him in +earnest. "Nevertheless, if you wish it—" +</p> +<p> +"Oh, this is too much!" cried Marzio, his anger rising again. "It is not +enough that you thwart me at every turn, but you come here to mock me, +to make a figure of me! Take care, Paolo, take care! You may go too +far." +</p> +<p> +"I would not advise you to go too far, Sor Marzio," put in +Gianbattista, turning half round on his stool. +</p> +<p> +"Cannot I speak without being interrupted? Go on with your work, Tista, +and let us talk this matter out. I tell you, Paolo, that I do not want +your advice, and that I have had far too much of your interference. I +will inquire into this matter, so far as it concerns the law, and I will +show you that I am right, in spite of all your surmises and prophecies. +A man is master in his own house and must remain so, whatever laws are +made. There is no law which can force a man to submit to the dictation +of his brother—even if his brother is a priest." +</p> +<p> +Marzio spoke more calmly than he had done hitherto, in spite of the +sneer in the last sentence. He had broken down, and he felt that Paolo +and Gianbattista were too much for him. He desired no repetition of the +scene which had passed, and he thought the best thing to be done was to +temporise for a while. +</p> +<p> +"I am glad you are willing to look into the matter," answered Don Paolo. +"I am quite sure you will soon be convinced." +</p> +<p> +Marzio was silent, and it was evident that the interview was at an end. +Don Paolo was tolerably well satisfied, for he had gained at least one +point in forcing his brother to examine the question. He remained a +moment in his seat, reviewing the situation, and asking himself whether +there was anything more to be said. He wished indeed that he could +produce some deeper impression on the artist. It was not enough, from +the moral point of view, that Marzio should be made to see the +impossibility of his scheme, although it was as much as could be +expected. The good man wished with all his heart that Marzio could be +softened a little, that he might be made to consider his daughter's +feelings, to betray some sign of an affection which seemed wholly dead, +to show some more human side of his character. But the situation at +present forbade Don Paolo from making any further effort. The presence +of Gianbattista, who had suddenly constituted himself the priest's +defender, was a constraint. Alone with his brother, Marzio might +possibly have exhibited some sensibility, but while the young man who +had violently silenced him a few moments earlier was looking on, the +chiseller would continue to be angry, and would not forget the +humiliation he had suffered. There was nothing more to be done at +present, and Don Paolo prepared to take his departure, gathering his +cloak around him, and smoothing the felt of his three-cornered hat while +he held his green umbrella under his arm. +</p> +<p> +"Are you going already, Don Paolo?" asked Gianbattista, rising to open +the door. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I must go. Good-bye, Marzio. Bear me no ill-will for pressing you +to be cautious. Good-bye, Tista." He pressed the young man's hand +warmly, as though to thank him for his courageous defence, and then left +the workshop. Marzio paid no attention to his departure. When the door +was closed, and as Gianbattista was returning to his bench, the artist +dropped his modelling tools and faced his apprentice. +</p> +<p> +"You may go too," he said in a low tone, as though he were choking. "I +mean you may go for good. I do not need you any longer." +</p> +<p> +He felt in his pocket for his purse, opened it, and took out some small +notes. +</p> +<p> +"I give you an hour to take your things from my house," he continued. +"There are your wages—you shall not tell the priest that I cheated +you." +</p> +<p> +Gianbattista stood still in the middle of the room while Marzio held out +the money to him. A hot flush rose to his young forehead, and he seemed +on the point of speaking, but the words did not pass his lips. With a +quick step he came forward, took the notes from Marzio's hand, and +crumpling them in his fingers, threw them in his face with all his +might. Then he turned on his heel, spat on the floor of the room, and +went out before Marzio could find words to resent the fresh insult. +</p> +<p> +The door fell back on the latch and Marzio was alone. He was very pale, +and for a moment his features worked angrily. Then a cruel smile passed +over his face. He stooped down, picked up the crumpled notes, counted +them, and replaced them in his purse. The economical instinct never +forsook him, and he did the thing mechanically. Glancing at the bench +his eyes fell on the pointed punch which Gianbattista had taken up in +his anger. He felt it carefully, handled it, looked at it, smiled again +and put it into his pocket. +</p> +<p> +"It is not a bad one," he muttered. "How many cherubs' eyes I have made +with that thing!" +</p> +<p> +He turned to the slate and examined the rough model he had made in wax, +flat still, and only indicated by vigorous touches, the red material +smeared on the black surface all around it by his fingers. There was +force in the figure, even in its first state, and there was a strange +pathos in the bent head, the only part as yet in high relief. But Marzio +looked at it angrily. He turned it to the light, closed his eyes a +moment, looked at it again, and then, with an incoherent oath, his long, +discoloured hand descended on the model, and, with a heavy pressure and +one strong push, flattened out what he had done, and smeared it into a +shapeless mass upon the dark stone. +</p> +<p> +"I shall never do it," he said in a low voice. "They have destroyed my +idea." +</p> +<p> +For some minutes he rested his head in his hand in deep thought. At +last he rose and went to a corner of the workshop in which stood a +heavily ironed box. Marzio fumbled in his pocket till he found a key, +bright from always being carried about with him, and contrasting oddly +with the rusty lock into which he thrust it. It turned with difficulty +in his nervous fingers, and he raised the heavy lid. The coffer was full +of packages wrapped in brown paper. He removed one after another till he +came to a wooden case which filled the whole length and breadth of the +safe. He lifted it out carefully and laid it on the end of the bench. +The cover was fastened down by screws, and he undid them one by one +until it moved and came off in his hands. The contents were wrapped +carefully in a fine towel, which had once been white, but which had long +grown yellow with age. Marzio unfolded the covering with a delicate +touch as though he feared to hurt what was within. He took out a large +silver crucifix, raising it carefully, and taking care not to touch the +figure. He stood it upon the bench before him, and sat down to examine +it. +</p> +<p> +It was a work of rare beauty, which he had made more than ten years +before. With the strange reticent instinct which artists sometimes feel +about their finest works, he had finished it in secret, working at night +alone, and when it was done he had put it away. It was his greatest +feat, he had said to himself, and, as from time to time he took it out +and looked at it, he gradually grew less and less inclined to show it to +any one, resolving to leave it in its case, until it should be found +after his death. It had seemed priceless to him, and he would not sell +it. With a fantastic eccentricity of reasoning he regarded it as a +sacred thing, to part with which would be a desecration. So he kept it. +Then, taking it out again, it had seemed less good to him, as his mind +became occupied with other things, and he had fancied he should do +better yet. At last he screwed it up in a wooden case and put it at the +bottom of his strong box, resolving never to look at it again. Many +years had passed since he had laid eyes upon it. +</p> +<p> +The idea which had come to him when Paolo had communicated the order to +him on the previous evening, had seemed absolutely new. It had appeared +to him as a glorification of the work he had executed in secret so long +ago. Time, and the habit of dissatisfaction had effaced from his mind +the precise image of the work of the past, and the emotions of the +present had seemed something new to him. He had drawn and modelled +during many hours, and yet he was utterly disappointed with the new +result. He felt the innate consciousness of having done it before, and +of having done it better. +</p> +<p> +And now the wonderful masterpiece of his earlier years stood before +him—the tall and massive ebony cross, bearing the marvellous figure of +the dead Saviour. A ray of sunlight fell through the grated window upon +the dying head, illuminating the points of the thorns in the crown, the +falling locks of hair, the tortured hands, and casting a shadow of death +beneath the half-closed eyes. +</p> +<p> +For several minutes Marzio sat motionless on his stool, realising the +whole strength and beauty of what he had done ten years before. Then he +wanted to get a better view of it. It was not high enough above him, for +it was meant to stand upon an altar. He could not see the face. He +looked about for something upon which to make it stand, but nothing was +near. He pushed away his stool, and turning the cross a little, so that +the sunlight should strike it at a better angle, he kneeled down on the +floor, his hands resting on the edge of the bench, and he looked up at +the image of the dead Christ. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0007" id="h2HCH0007"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER VII +</h2> +<p> +When Don Paolo left the workshop, he immediately crossed over and +entered the street door of Marzio's house, intending to tell Maria Luisa +and Lucia the result of the interview. He had not got to the top of the +first flight of stairs when he heard Gianbattista's step behind him, and +turning he saw the young man's angry face. +</p> +<p> +"What is the matter, Tista?" asked the priest, stopping on the steps and +laying his hand on the iron railing. +</p> +<p> +"I am discharged, turned out, insulted by that animal!" answered the +apprentice hotly. "He is like a piece of wood! You might as well talk to +a wall! You had only just closed the door when he pulled out his purse, +counted my wages, and told me to take my things from his house in an +hour. I threw the money in his face—the beast!" +</p> +<p> +"Hush, Tista," said Don Paolo. "Do not be angry—we will arrange it all +before night. He cannot do without you, and after all it is my fault. +Calm yourself, Tista, my boy—we will soon set that straight." +</p> +<p> +"Yes—in an hour I will have left the house. Then it will be straight +enough, as you call it. Oh! I would like to strangle him! Dear Don +Paolo, nobody but you can arrange this affair—" +</p> +<p> +"Hush, hush, Tista. I cannot hear you talk in this way. Come, we will go +back to Marzio. He will listen to reason—" +</p> +<p> +"Do you know what he said to me not a quarter of an hour before you came +in?" asked Gianbattista quickly, laying his hand on the priest's arm. +"He said I might have Lucia and welcome if I would kill you! Do you +understand? I wish you could have seen the look in his eyes!" +</p> +<p> +"No, no, my boy—he was angry. He did not mean it." +</p> +<p> +"Mean it! Bacchus! He would kill you himself if he were not such a +dastardly coward!" +</p> +<p> +Don Paolo shook his head with an incredulous smile, and looked kindly +into the young man's eyes. +</p> +<p> +"You have all lost your heads over this unfortunate affair, Tista. You +are all talking of killing each other and yourselves as though it were +as simple as 'good-morning.' It is very wrong to talk of such things, +and besides, you know, it is not really worth while—" +</p> +<p> +"It seems simple enough to me," answered the young man, frowning and +clenching his hand. +</p> +<p> +"Come with me," urged the other, making as though he would descend the +steps. "Come back to the workshop, and we will talk it all over." +</p> +<p> +"Wait a minute, Don Paolo. There is one thing—one favour I want to ask +of you." Gianbattista lowered his voice. "You can do it for us—I am +sure you will. I will call Lucia, and we will go with you—" +</p> +<p> +"Where?" asked the priest, not understanding the look of the young man. +</p> +<p> +"To church, of course. You can marry us in ten minutes, and the thing +will be all over. Then we can laugh at Sor Marzio." +</p> +<p> +Don Paolo smiled. +</p> +<p> +"My dear boy," he answered, "those things are not done in a moment like +roasting chestnuts. There are banns to be published. There is a civil +marriage at the Capitol—" +</p> +<p> +"I should be quite satisfied with your benediction—a <i>Pater Noster</i>, an +<i>Oremus</i> properly said—eh? Would it not be all right?" +</p> +<p> +"Really, Tista!" exclaimed the good man, holding up his hands in horror. +"I had no idea that your religious education had been so neglected! My +dear child, marriage is a very solemn thing." +</p> +<p> +"By Diana! I should think so! But that need not make it such a long +ceremony. A man dies in a moment—<i>paff!</i>—the light is out!—you are +dead. It is very solemn. The same thing for marriage. The priest looks +at you, says <i>Oremus</i>—<i>paff!</i> You are married, and it cannot be undone! +I know it is very serious, but it is only the affair of a moment." +</p> +<p> +Don Paolo did not know whether to laugh or to look grave at this +exposition of Gianbattista's views of death and matrimony. He put it +down to the boy's excitement. +</p> +<p> +"There is another reason, Tista. The law does not allow a girl of +seventeen to be married without her father's consent." +</p> +<p> +"The law again!" exclaimed Gianbattista in disgust. "I thought the law +protected Lucia from her father. You said so last night, and you +repeated it this morning." +</p> +<p> +"Certainly, my boy. But the law also protects parents against any +rashness their children may meditate. It would be no marriage if Lucia +had not Marzio's consent." +</p> +<p> +"I wish there were no laws," grumbled the young man. "How do you come to +know so much about marriage, Don Paolo?" +</p> +<p> +"It is my profession. Come along; we will talk to Marzio." +</p> +<p> +"What can we say to him? You do not suppose I will go and beg to be +taken back?" +</p> +<p> +"You must be forgiving—" +</p> +<p> +"I believe in forgiveness when the other side begins," said +Gianbattista. +</p> +<p> +"Perhaps Marzio will forgive too," argued the priest. +</p> +<p> +"He has nothing to forgive," answered the young man. The reasoning +seemed to him beyond refutation. +</p> +<p> +"But if he says he has no objection, if he begs you to come back, I +think you might make some advance on your side, Tista. Besides, you were +very rough with him this morning." +</p> +<p> +"He turned me out like a dog—after all these years," said Gianbattista. +"I will go back and work for him on one condition. He must give me Lucia +at once." +</p> +<p> +"I am afraid that as a basis of negotiations that plan leaves much to be +desired," replied Don Paolo, in a meditative tone. "Of course, we are +all determined that you shall marry her in the end; but unless +Providence is pleased to change Marzio's state of mind, you may have to +wait until she is of age. He will never consent at present." +</p> +<p> +"In that case I had better go and take my things away from his house," +returned the apprentice. "And say good-bye to Lucia—for a day or two," +he added in a low voice. +</p> +<p> +"Of course, if you will not agree to be conciliatory it is of no use for +you to come with me," said Don Paolo rather sadly. "Dear me! Here comes +Maria Luisa with Suntarella!" +</p> +<p> +"Ah, dear Paolo, dear Paolo!" cried the stout lady, puffing up the +stairs with the old woman close behind her. "How good you are! And what +did he say? We asked if you had gone at the workshop, and they said you +had, so Lucia went in to ask her father whether he would have the +chickens boiled or roasted. Well, well, tell me all about it. These +stairs! Suntarella, run up and open the door while I get my breath! Dear +Paolo, you are an angel of goodness!" +</p> +<p> +"Softly, Maria Luisa," answered the priest. "There is good and bad. He +has admitted that he will have to consider the matter because he cannot +make Lucia marry without her consent. But on the other hand—poor +Tista—" he looked at the young man and hesitated. +</p> +<p> +"He has turned me out," said Gianbattista. "He has given me an hour to +leave his house. I believe a good part of the hour has passed already—" +</p> +<p> +"And Tista says he will not go back at any price," put in Don Paolo. The +Signora Pandolfi gasped for breath. +</p> +<p> +"Oh! oh! I shall faint!" she sobbed, pressing the handle of her parasol +against her breast with both hands. "Oh, what shall we do? We are lost! +Paolo, your arm—I shall die!" +</p> +<p> +"Courage, courage, Maria Luisa," said the priest kindly. "We will find +a remedy. For the present Tista can come to my house. There is the +little room Where the man-servant sleeps, who is gone to see his sick +wife in the country. The Cardinal will not mind." +</p> +<p> +"But you are not going like tins?" cried the stout lady, grasping +Gianbattista's arm and looking into his face with an expression of +forlorn bewilderment. "You cannot go to-day—it is impossible, +Tista—your shirts are not even ironed! Oh dear I oh dear! And I had +anticipated a feast because I was sure that Marzio would see reason +before midday, and there are chickens for dinner—with rice, Tista, just +as you like them—oh, you cannot go, Tista, I cannot let you go!" +</p> +<p> +"Courage, Maria Luisa," exhorted Don Paolo. "It is not a question of +chickens." +</p> +<p> +"Dear Sora Luisa, you are too good," said Gianbattista. "Let us go +upstairs first, to begin with—you will catch cold here on the steps. +Come, come, courage, Sora Luisa!" +</p> +<p> +He took the good woman's arm and led her upwards. But Don Paolo stayed +behind. He believed it to be his duty to return to the workshop, and to +try and undo the harm Gianbattista had done himself by the part he had +played in the proceedings of the morning. The Signora Pandolfi suffered +herself to be led upstairs, panting and sobbing as she went, and +protesting still that Gianbattista could not possibly be allowed to +leave the house. +</p> +<p> +When Don Paolo had parted from the two women an hour earlier, they had +not gone home as he had supposed, but, chancing to meet old Assunta near +the house, the three had gone together to make certain necessary +purchases. On their return they had inquired for Paolo at the workshop, +as Maria Luisa had explained, and Lucia had entered in the confident +expectation of finding that the position of things had mended +considerably since the early morning. Moreover, since the announcement +of the previous evening, the young girl had not seen her father alone. +She wanted to talk to him on her own account, in order to sound the +depth of his determination. She was not afraid of him. The fact that for +a long time he had regarded favourably the project of her marriage with +Gianbattista had given her a confidence which was not to be destroyed in +a moment, even by Marzio's strange conduct. She passed through the outer +rooms, nodding to the workmen, who touched their caps to the master's +daughter. A little passage separated the large workshop from the inner +studio. The door at the end was not quite closed. Lucia went up to it, +and looked through the opening to see whether Gianbattista were with her +father. The sight she saw was so surprising that she leaned against the +door-post for support. She could not believe her eyes. +</p> +<p> +There was her father in his woollen blouse, kneeling, on the brick floor +of the room, before a crucifix, his back turned towards her, his hands +raised, and, as it seemed from the position of the arms, folded in +prayer. The sunlight fell upon the silver figure, and upon the dark +tangled hair of the artist who remained motionless, as though absorbed +in devotion, while his daughter watched him through the half-open door. +The scene was one which would have struck any one; the impression it +made on Lucia was altogether extraordinary. She easily fancied that +Marzio, after his interview with Don Paolo, had felt a great and sudden +revulsion of sentiment. She knew that the priest had not left the studio +many minutes before, and she saw her father apparently praying before a +crucifix. A wonderful conversion had been effected, and the result was +there manifest to the girl's eyes. +</p> +<p> +She held her breath, and remained at the door, determined not to move +until Marzio should have risen from his knees. To interrupt him at such +a moment would have been almost a sacrilege; it might produce the most +fatal results; it would be an intrusion upon the privacy of a repentant +man. She stood watching and waiting to see what would happen. +</p> +<p> +Presently Marzio moved. Lucia thought he was going to rise from his +knees, but she was surprised to see that he only changed the position of +the crucifix with one hand. He approached his head so near the lower +part of it that Lucia fancied he was in the act of pressing his lips +upon the crossed feet of the silver Christ. Then he drew back a little, +turned his head to one side, and touched the figure with his right hand. +It was evident, now, that he was no longer praying, but that something +about the workmanship had attracted his attention. +</p> +<p> +How natural, the girl said to herself, that this man, even in such a +supreme moment, should not forget his art—that, even in prayer, his +eyes should mechanically detect an error of the chisel, a flaw in the +metal, or some such detail familiar to his daily life. She did not think +the worse of him for it. He was an artist! The habit of his whole +existence could not cease to influence him—he could as soon have ceased +to breathe. Lucia watched him and felt something like love for her +father. Her sympathy was with him in both actions; in his silent prayer, +in the inner privacy of his working-room, as well as in the inherent +love of his art, from which he could not escape even when he was doing +something contrary to the whole tenor of his life. Lucia thought how Don +Paolo's face would light up when she should tell him of what she had +seen. Then she wondered, with a delicate sense of respect for her +father's secret feelings, whether she would have the right to tell any +one what she had accidentally seen through the half-closed door of the +studio. +</p> +<p> +Marzio moved again, and this time he rose to his feet and remained +standing, so that the crucifix was completely hidden from her view. She +knocked at the door. Her father turned suddenly round, and faced the +entrance, still hiding the crucifix by his figure. +</p> +<p> +"Who is it?" he asked in a tone that sounded as though he were startled. +</p> +<p> +"Lucia," answered the girl timidly. "May I come in, papa?" +</p> +<p> +"Wait a minute," he answered. She drew back, and, still watching him, +saw that he laid the cross down upon the table, and covered it with a +towel—the same one in which it had been wrapped. +</p> +<p> +"Come in," he called out "What is the matter?" +</p> +<p> +"I only came for a moment, papa," answered Lucia, entering the room and +glancing about her as she came forward. "Mamma sent me in to ask you +about the chickens—there are chickens for dinner—she wanted to know +whether you would like them roasted or boiled with rice." +</p> +<p> +"Roasted," replied Marzio, taking up a chisel and pretending to be busy. +"It is Gianbattista who likes them boiled." +</p> +<p> +"Thank you, I will go home and tell her. Papa—" the girl hesitated. +</p> +<p> +"What is the matter?" +</p> +<p> +"Papa, you are not angry any more as you were last night?" +</p> +<p> +"Angry? No. What makes you ask such a question? I was not angry last +night, and I am not angry now. Who put the idea into your head?" +</p> +<p> +"I am so glad," answered Lucia. "Not with me, not with Tista? I am so +glad! Where is Tista, papa?" +</p> +<p> +"I have not the slightest idea. You will probably not see Tista any +more, nor Gianbattista, nor his excellency the Signorino Bordogni" +</p> +<p> +Lucia turned suddenly pale, and rested her hand upon the old straw chair +on which Don Paolo had sat during his visit. +</p> +<p> +"What is this? What do you tell me? Not see Tista?" she asked quickly. +</p> +<p> +"Gianbattista had the bad taste to attack me this morning—here—in my +own studio," said Marzio, turning round and facing his daughter. "He put +his hands upon my face, do you understand? He would have stabbed me with +a chisel if Paolo had not interfered. Do you understand that? Out of +deference for your affections I did not kill him, as I might have done. +I dismissed him from my service, and gave him an hour to take his +effects out of my house. Is that clear? I offered him his money. He +threw it in my face and spat at me as he went out. Is that enough? If I +find him at home when I come to dinner I will have him turned out by the +police. You see, you are not likely to set eyes on him for a day or two. +You may go home and tell your mother the news, if she has not heard it +already. It will be sauce for her chickens." +</p> +<p> +Lucia leaned upon the chair during this speech, her black eyes growing +wider and wider, and her face turning whiter at every word. To her it +seemed, in this first moment, like a hopeless separation from the man +she loved. With a sudden movement she sprang forward, and fell on her +knees at Marzio's feet. +</p> +<p> +"Oh, my father, I beseech you, in the name of heaven," she cried wildly. +</p> +<p> +"It is not of the slightest use," answered Marzio, drawing back. Lucia +knelt for one moment before him, with upturned face, an expression of +imploring despair on her features. Then she sank down in a heap upon the +floor against the three-legged stool, which tottered, lost its balance +under her weight, and fell over upon the bricks with a loud crash. The +poor girl had fainted away. +</p> +<p> +Marzio was startled by the sight and the sound, and then, seeing what +had happened, he was very much frightened. He knelt down beside his +daughter's prostrate body and bent over her face. He raised her up in +his long, nervous arms, and lifted her to the old chair till she sat +upon it, and he supported her head and body, kneeling on the floor +beside her. A sharp pain shot through his heart, the faint indication of +a love not wholly extinguished. +</p> +<p> +"Lucia, dear Lucia!" he said, in a voice so tender that it sounded +strangely in his own ears. But the gill gave no sign. Her head would +have fallen forward if he had not supported it with his hands. +</p> +<p> +"My daughter! Little Lucia! You are not dead—tell me you are not dead!" +he cried. In his fright and sudden affection he pressed his lips to her +face, kissing her again and again. "I did not mean to hurt you, darling +child," he repeated, as though she could hear him speak. +</p> +<p> +At last her eyes opened. A shiver ran through her body and she raised +her head. She was very pale as she leaned back in the chair. Marzio took +her hands and robbed them between his dark fingers, still looking into +her eyes. +</p> +<p> +"Ah!" she gasped, "I thought I was dead." Then, as Marzio seemed about +to speak, she added faintly: "Don't say it again!" +</p> +<p> +"Lucia—dear Lucia! I knew you were not dead I knew you would come back +to me," he said, still in very tender tones. "Forgive me, child—I did +not mean to hurt you." +</p> +<p> +"No? Oh, papa! Then why did you say it?" she cried, suddenly bursting +into tears and weeping upon his shoulder. "Tell me it is not true—tell +me so!" she sobbed. +</p> +<p> +Marzio was almost as much disconcerted by Lucia's return to +consciousness as he had been by her fainting away. His nature had +unbent, momentarily, under the influence of his strong fear for his +daughter's life. Now that she had recovered so quickly, he remembered +Gianbattista's violence and scornful words, and he seemed to feel the +young man's strong hand upon his mouth, stifling his speech. He +hesitated, rose to his feet, and began to pace the floor. Lucia watched +him with intense anxiety. There was a conflict in his mind between the +resentment which was not half an hour old, and the love for his child, +which had been so quickly roused during the last five minutes. +</p> +<p> +"Well—Lucia, my dear—I do not know—" he stopped short in his walk and +looked at her. She leaned forward as though to catch his words. +</p> +<p> +"Do you think you could not—that you would be so very unhappy, I mean, +if he lived out of the house—I mean to say, if he had lodgings, +somewhere, and came back to work?" +</p> +<p> +"Oh, papa—I should faint away again—and I should die. I am quite sure +of it." +</p> +<p> +Marzio looked anxiously at her, as though he expected to see her fall to +the ground a second time. It went against the grain of his nature to +take Gianbattista back, although he had discharged him hastily in the +anger of the moment. He turned away and glanced at the bench. There were +the young man's tools, the hammer as he had left it, the piece of work +on the leathern pad. The old impulse of foresight for the future acted +in Marzio's mind. He could never find such another workman. In the +uncertainty of the moment, as often happens, details rose to his +remembrance and produced their effect. He recollected the particular way +in which Gianbattista used to hold the blunt chisel in first tracing +over the drawing on a silver plate. He had never seen any one do it in +the same way. +</p> +<p> +"Well, Lucia—don't faint away. If you can make him stay, I will take +him back. But I am afraid you will have hard work. He will make +difficulties. He threw the money in my face, Lucia—in your father's +face, girl! Think of that. Well, well, do what you like. He is a good +workman. Go away, child, and leave me to myself. What will you say to +him?" +</p> +<p> +Lucia threw her arms round her father's neck and kissed him in her +sudden joy. Then she stood a moment in thought. +</p> +<p> +"Give me his money," she said. "If he will take the money he will come +back." +</p> +<p> +Marzio hesitated, slowly drew out his purse, and began to take out the +notes. +</p> +<p> +"Well—if you will have it so," he grumbled. "After all, as he threw it +away, I do not see that he has much right to it. There it is. If he says +anything about that ten-franc note being torn, tell him he tore it +himself. Go home, Lucia, and manage things as you can." +</p> +<p> +Lucia put the money in her glove, and busied herself for a moment in +brushing the dust from her clothes. Mechanically, her father helped her. +</p> +<p> +"You are quite sure you did not hurt yourself?" he asked. The whole +occurrence seemed indistinct, as though some one had told something +which he had not understood—as we sometimes listen to a person reading +aloud, and, missing by inattention the verb of the sentence, remain +confused, and ask ourselves what the words mean. +</p> +<p> +"No—not at all. It is nothing," answered Lucia, and in a moment she was +at the door. +</p> +<p> +Opening it to go out, she saw the tall figure of Don Paolo at the other +end of the passage coming rapidly towards her. She raised her finger to +her lips and nodded, as though to explain that everything was settled, +and that the priest should not speak to Marzio. She, of course, did not +know that he had been talking with Gianbattista and her mother, nor that +he knew anything about the apprentice's dismissal. She only feared fresh +trouble, now that the prospect looked so much clearer, in case Don Paolo +should again attack her father upon the subject of the marriage. But her +uncle came forward and made as though he would enter the workshop. +</p> +<p> +"It is all settled," she said quietly. Don Paolo looked at her in +astonishment. At that moment Marzio caught sight of him over the girl's +shoulder, in the dusky entrance. +</p> +<p> +"Come in, Paolo," he called out "I have something to show you. Go home, +Lucia, my child." +</p> +<p> +Not knowing what to expect, and marvelling at the softened tone of his +brother's voice, Don Paolo entered the room, waited till Lucia was out +of the passage, and then closed the door behind him. He stood in the +middle of the floor, grasping his umbrella in his hand and wondering +upon what new phase the business was entering. +</p> +<p> +"I have something to show you," Marzio repeated, as though to check any +question which the priest might be going to put to him. "You asked me +for a crucifix last night. I have one here. Will it do! Look at it." +</p> +<p> +While speaking, Marzio had uncovered the cross and lifted it up, so that +it stood on the bench where he had at first placed it to examine it +himself. Then he stepped back and made way for Don Paolo. The priest +stood for a moment speechless before the masterpiece, erect, his hands +folded before him. Then, as though recollecting himself, he took off his +hat, which he had forgotten to remove on entering the workshop. +</p> +<p> +"What a miracle!" he exclaimed, in a low voice. +</p> +<p> +Marzio stood a little behind him, his hands in the pockets of his +woollen blouse. A long silence followed. Don Paolo could not find words +to express his admiration, and his wonder was mixed with a profound +feeling of devotion. The amazing reality of the figure, clothed at the +same time in a sort of divine glory, impressed itself upon him as he +gazed, and roused that mystical train of religious contemplation which +is both familiar and dear to devout persons. He lost himself in his +thoughts, and his refined features showed as in a mirror the current of +his meditation. The agony of the Saviour of mankind was renewed before +him, culminating in the sacrifice upon the cross. Involuntarily Paolo +bent his head and repeated in low tones the words of the Creed, "<i>Qui +propter nos homines et propter</i> <i>nostram, salutem descendit de +coelis</i>," and then, "<i>Crucifixus etiam pro nobis</i>." +</p> +<p> +Marzio stood looking on, his hands in his pockets. His fingers grasped +the long sharp punch he had taken from the table after Gianbattista's +departure. His eyes fixed themselves upon the smooth tonsure at the back +of Paolo's head, and slowly his right hand issued from his pocket with +the sharp instrument firmly clenched in it. He raised it to the level of +his head, just above that smooth shaven circle in the dark hair. His +eyes dilated and his mouth worked nervously as the pale lips stretched +themselves across the yellow teeth. +</p> +<p> +Don Paolo moved, and turned to speak to his brother concerning the work +of art. Seeing Marzio's attitude, he started with a short cry and +stretched out his arm as though to parry a blow. +</p> +<p> +"Marzio!" +</p> +<p> +The artist had quickly brought his hand to his forehead, and the ghastly +affectation of a smile wreathed about his white lips. His voice was +thick. +</p> +<p> +"I was only shading my eyes from the sun. Don't you see how it dazzles +me, reflected from the silver? What did you imagine, Paolo? You look +frightened." +</p> +<p> +"Oh, nothing," answered the priest bravely. "Perhaps I am a little +nervous to-day." +</p> +<p> +"Bacchus! It looks like it," said Marzio, with an attempt to laugh. +Then he tossed the tool upon the table among the rest with an impatient +gesture. "What do you think of the crucifix?" +</p> +<p> +"It is very wonderful," said Paolo, controlling himself by an effort. +"When did you make it, Marzio? You have not had time—" +</p> +<p> +"I made it years ago," answered the chiseller, turning his face away to +hide his pallor. "I made it for myself. I never meant to show it, but I +believe I cannot do anything better. Will it do for your cardinal? Look +at the work. It is as fine as anything of the kind in the world, though +I say it. Yes—it is cast. Of course, you do not understand the art, +Paolo, but I will explain it all to you in a few minutes—" +</p> +<p> +Marzio talked very fast, almost incoherently, and he was evidently +struggling with an emotion. Paolo, standing back a little from the +bench, nodded his head from time to time. +</p> +<p> +"It is all very simple," continued the artist, as though he dared not +pause for breath. "You see one sometimes makes little figures of real +<i>repoussé</i>, half and half, done in cement and then soldered together so +that they look like one piece, but it is impossible to do them well +unless you have dies to press the plate into the first shape—and the +die always makes the same figure, though you can vary the face and twist +the arms and legs about. Cheap silver crucifixes and angels and those +things are all made in that way, and with care a great deal can be done, +of course, to give them an artistic look." +</p> +<p> +"Of course," assented Don Paolo, in a low voice. He thought he +understood the cause of his brother's eloquence. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, of course," continued Marzio, as rapidly as before. "But to make a +really good thing like this, is a different matter. A very different +matter. Here you must model your figure in wax, and make moulds of the +parts of it, and chisel each part separately, copying the model. And +then you must join all the parts together with silver-soldering, and go +over the lines carefully. It needs the most delicate handling, for +although the casting is very heavy it is not like working on a chalice +that is filled with cement and all arranged for you, that can be put in +the fire, melted out, softened, cooled, and worked over as often as you +please. There is no putting in the fire here—not more than once after +you have joined the pieces. Do you understand me? Why do you look at me +in that way, Paolo? You look as though you did not follow me." +</p> +<p> +"On the contrary," said the priest, "I think I understand it very +well—as well as an outsider can understand such a process. No—I merely +look at the finished work. It is superb, Marzio—magnificent! I have +never seen anything like it." +</p> +<p> +"Well, you may have it to-night," said Marzio, turning away, and +walking about the room. "I will touch it over. I can improve it a +little. I have learned something in ten years. I will work all to-day, +and I will bring it home this evening to show Maria Luisa. Then you may +take it away." +</p> +<p> +"And the price? I must be able to tell the Cardinal." +</p> +<p> +"Oh, never mind the price. I will be content to take whatever he gives +me, since it is going. No price would represent the labour. Indeed, +Paolo, if it were any one but you, I would not let it go. Nothing but my +affection for you would make me give it to you. It is the gem of my +studio. Ah, how I worked at it ten years ago!" +</p> +<p> +"Thank you. I think I understand," answered the priest. "I am very much +obliged to you, Marzio, and I assure you it will be appreciated. I must +be going. Thank you for showing it to me. I will come and get it +to-night." +</p> +<p> +"Well, good-bye, Paolo," said Marzio. "Here is your umbrella." +</p> +<p> +As Don Paolo turned away to leave the room, the artist looked curiously +at the tonsure on his head, and his eyes followed it until Paolo had +covered it with his hat. Then he closed the door and went back to the +bench. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0008" id="h2HCH0008"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER VIII +</h2> +<p> +Lucia hastened homewards with the good news she bore. Her young nature +was elastic, and, in the sudden happiness of having secured +Gianbattista's recall, she quickly recovered from the shock she had +received. She did not reflect very much, for she had not the time. It +had all happened so quickly that her senses were confused, and she only +knew that the man she loved must be in despair, and that the sooner she +reached him the sooner she would be able to relieve him from what he +must be suffering. Her breath came fast as she reached the top of the +stairs, and she panted as she rang the bell of the lodging. Apparently +she had rung so loud in her excitement as to rouse the suspicions of old +Assunta, who cautiously peered through the little square that opened +behind a grating in the door, before she raised the latch. On seeing +Lucia she began to laugh, and opened quickly. +</p> +<p> +"So loud!" chuckled the old thing. "I thought it was the police or Sor +Marzio in a rage." +</p> +<p> +Lucia did not heed her, but ran quickly on to the sitting-room, where +the Signora Pandolfi was alone, seated on her straight chair and holding +her bonnet in her hand, the bonnet with the purple glass grapes; she was +the picture of despair. Lucia made haste to comfort her. +</p> +<p> +"Do not cry, mamma," she said quickly. "I have arranged it all. I have +seen papa. I have brought Tista's money. Papa wants him to stay after +all. Yes—I know you cannot guess how it all happened. I went in to ask +about the chickens, and then I asked about Tista, and he told me that I +should not see him any more, and then—then I felt this passion—here in +the chest, and everything went round and round and round like a +whirligig at the Termini, and I fell right down, mamma, down upon the +bricks—I know, my frock is all dusty still, here, look, and here, but +what does it matter? Patience! I fell down like a sack of flour—<i>pata +tunfate</i>!" +</p> +<p> +"T-t-t-t!" exclaimed the Signora Pandolfi, holding up her hands and +drawing in her breath as she clacked her tongue against the roof of her +mouth. "T-t-t-t! What a pity!" +</p> +<p> +"And when I came to my senses—I had fainted, you understand—I was +sitting on the old straw chair and papa was holding my hands in his and +calling me his angel! <i>Capperi</i>! But it was worth while. You can +imagine the situation when he called me an angel! It is the first time I +have ever fainted, mamma—you have no idea—it was so curious!" +</p> +<p> +"Ah, my dear, it must have softened his heart!" cried Maria Luisa. "If I +could only faint away like that once in a while! Who knows? He might be +converted. But what would you have?" The signora glanced down sadly at +her figure, which certainly suggested no such weakness as she seemed to +desire. "Well, Lucia," she continued, "and then?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, I talked to him, I implored him, I told him I should probably +faint again, and, indeed, I felt like it. So he said I might have my +way, and he told me to come home and tell Tista at once. Where is +Tista?" +</p> +<p> +"Eh! He is in his room, packing up his things. I will go and call him. +Oh dear! What a wonderful day this is, my child! To think that it is not +yet eleven o'clock, and all that has happened! It is enough to make a +woman crazy, fit to send to Santo Spirito. First you are to be married, +and then you are not to be married! Then Gianbattista is sent +away—after all these years, and such a good boy! And then he is taken +back! And then—but the chickens, Lucia, you forgot to ask about the +chickens—" +</p> +<p> +"Not a bit of it," answered the young girl. "I asked first, before he +told me. Afterwards, I don't know—I should not have had the strength to +speak of chickens. He said roasted, mamma. Poor Tista! He likes them +with rice. Well, one cannot have everything in this world." +</p> +<p> +The Signora Pandolfi had reached the door, and called out at the top of +her voice to the young man. +</p> +<p> +"Tista! Tista!" She could have been heard in the street. +</p> +<p> +"Eh, Sora Luisa! We are not in the Piazza Navona," said Gianbattista, +appearing at the door of his little room. "What has happened?" +</p> +<p> +"Go and talk to Lucia," answered the good lady, hurrying off in search +of Assunta to tell her the decision concerning the dinner. +</p> +<p> +Gianbattista entered the sitting-room, and, from the young girl's +radiant expression, he guessed that some favourable change had taken +place in his position, or in the positions of them both. Lucia began to +tell him what had passed, and gave much the same account as she had +given to her mother, though some of the intonations were softer, and +accompanied by looks which told her happiness. When she had explained +the situation she paused for an answer. Gianbattista stood beside her +and held her hand, but he looked out of the window, as though uncertain +what to say. +</p> +<p> +"Here is the money," said Lucia. "You will take it, won't you? Then it +will be all settled. What is the matter, Tista? Are you not glad?" +</p> +<p> +"I do not trust him," answered the young man. "It is not like him to +change his mind like that, all in a minute. He means some mischief." +</p> +<p> +"What can he do?" +</p> +<p> +"I do not know. I feel as if some evil were coming. Patience! Who knows? +You are an angel, Lucia, darling." +</p> +<p> +"Everybody is telling me so to-day," answered the young girl. "Papa, +you—" +</p> +<p> +"Of course. It is quite true, my heart, and so every one repeats it. +What do you think? Will he come home to dinner? It is only eleven +o'clock—perhaps I ought to go back and work at the ewer. Somehow I do +not want to see him just now—" +</p> +<p> +"Stay with me, Tista. Besides, you were packing up your belongings to go +away. You have a right to take an hour to unpack them. Tell me, what is +this idea you have that papa is not in earnest? I want to understand it. +He was quite in earnest just now—so good, so good, like sugar! Is it +because you are still angry with him, that you do not want to see him?" +</p> +<p> +"No—why should I still be angry? He has made reparation. After all, I +took a certain liberty with him." +</p> +<p> +"That is all the more reason. If he is willing to forget it—but I +could tell you something, Tista, something that would persuade you." +</p> +<p> +"What is it, my treasure?" asked Gianbattista with a smile, bending down +to look into her eyes. +</p> +<p> +"Oh, something very wonderful, something of which you would never dream. +I could scarcely believe my eyes. Imagine, when I went to find him just +now, the door was open. I looked through before I went in, to see if you +were there. Do you know what papa was doing? He was kneeling on the +floor before a beautiful crucifix, such a beautiful one. I think he was +saying prayers, but I could not see his face. He stayed a long time, and +then when I knocked he covered it up, was not that strange? That is the +reason why I persuaded him so easily to change his mind." +</p> +<p> +Gianbattista smiled incredulously. He had often seen Marzio kneel on the +floor to get a different view of a large piece of work. +</p> +<p> +"He was only looking at the work," he answered. "I have seen him do it +very often. He would laugh if he could hear you, Lucia. Do you imagine +he is such a man as that? Perhaps it would not do him any harm—a little +praying. But it is a kind of medicine he does not relish. No, Lucia, you +have been deceived, believe me." +</p> +<p> +The girl's expression changed. She had quite persuaded herself that a +great moral change had taken place in her father that morning, and had +built many hopes upon it. To her sanguine imagination it seemed as +though his whole nature must have changed. She had seen visions of him +as she had always wished he might be, and the visions had seemed likely +to be realised. She had doubted whether she should tell any one the +story of what she regarded as Marzio's conversion, but she had made an +exception in favour of Gianbattista. Gianbattista simply laughed, and +explained the matter away in half a dozen words. Lucia was more deeply +disappointed than any one, listening to her light talk, could have +believed possible. Her face expressed the pain she felt, and she +protested against the apprentice's explanation. +</p> +<p> +"It is too bad of you, Tista," she said in hurt tones. "But I do not +think you are right. You have no idea how quietly he knelt, and his +hands were folded on the bench. He bent his head once, and I believe he +kissed the feet—I wish you could have seen it, you would not doubt me. +You think I have invented a silly tale, I am sure you do." +</p> +<p> +The tears filled her eyes as she turned away and stared vacantly out of +the window at the dark houses opposite. The sun, which had been shining +until that moment, disappeared behind a mass of driving clouds, and a +few drops of rain began to beat against the panes of glass. The world +seemed suddenly more dreary to Lucia. Gianbattista, who was sensitive +where she was concerned, looked at her, and understood that he had +destroyed something in which she had wished to believe. +</p> +<p> +"Well, well, my heart, perhaps you are right," he said softly, putting +his arm round her. +</p> +<p> +"No, you do not believe it," she answered. +</p> +<p> +"For you, I will believe in anything, in everything—even in Sor +Marzio's devotions," he said, pressing her to his side. "Only—you see, +darling, he was talking in such a way a few moments before—that it +seemed impossible—" +</p> +<p> +"Nothing is quite impossible," replied Lucia. "The heart beats fast. +There may be a whole world between one beat and the next." +</p> +<p> +"Yes, my love," assented Gianbattista, looking tenderly into her eyes. +"But do you think that between all the beatings of our two hearts there +could ever be a world of change?" +</p> +<p> +"Ah—that is different, Tista. Why should we change? We could only +change for worse if we began to love each other less, and that is +impossible. But papa! Why should he not change for the better? Who can +tell you, Tista, dear, that in a moment, in a second, after you were +gone, he was not sorry for all he had done? It may have been in an +instant. Why not?" +</p> +<p> +"Things done so very quickly are not done well," answered the young man. +"I know that from my art. You may stamp a thing in a moment with the +die—it is rough, unfinished. It takes weeks to chisel it—" +</p> +<p> +"The good God is not a chiseller, Tista." +</p> +<p> +The words fell very simply from the young girl's lips, and the +expression of her face did not change. Only the tone of her voice was +grave and quiet, and there was a depth of conviction in it which struck +Gianbattista forcibly. In a short sentence she had defined the +difference between his mode of thought and her own. To her mind +omnipotence was a reality. To him, it was an inconceivable power, the +absurdity of which he sought to demonstrate by comparing the magnitude +claimed for it with the capacities of man. He remained silent for a +moment, as though seeking an answer. He found none, and what he said +expressed an aspiration and not a retort. +</p> +<p> +"I sometimes wish that I could believe as you do," he said. "I am sure I +could do much greater things, make much more beautiful angels, if I were +quite sure that they existed." +</p> +<p> +"Of course you could," answered Lucia. Then, with a tact beyond her +years, she changed the subject of their talk. She would not endanger the +durability of his aspiration by discussing it. "To go back to what we +were speaking of," she said, "you will go to the workshop this +afternoon, Tista, won't you?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes," he said mechanically. "What else should I do? Oh, Lucia, my +darling, I cannot bear this uncertainty," he cried, suddenly giving vent +to his feelings. "Where will it end? He may have changed, he may be all +you say he is to-day, all that he was not yesterday, but do you really +believe he has given up his wild idea? It is not all as it should be, +and that is not his nature. It will come upon us suddenly with something +we do not expect. He will do something—I cannot tell what, but I know +him better than you do. He is cruel, he plots over his work, and then, +when all seems calm, the storm breaks. It will not end well." +</p> +<p> +"We must love each other, Tista. Then all will end well. Who can divide +us?" +</p> +<p> +"No one," answered the young maid firmly. "But many things may happen +before we are united for ever." +</p> +<p> +He was not subject to presentiments, and his self-confident nature +abhorred the prospect of trouble. He had arrived at his conclusion by a +logical process, and there seemed no escape from it. As he had told +Lucia, he knew the character of the chiseller better than the women of +the household could know it, for he had been his constant companion for +years, and was not to be deceived in his estimate of Marzio's temper. A +man's natural disposition shows itself most clearly when he is in his +natural element, at his work, busied in the ordinary occupations of his +life. To such a man as Marzio, the workshop is more sympathetic than the +house. Disagreeing on most points with his family, obliged to be absent +during the whole day, wholly absorbed in the production of works which +the women of his household could not thoroughly appreciate, because they +did not thoroughly understand the ideas which originated them, nor the +methods employed in their execution—under these combined circumstances +it was to be expected that the artist's real feelings would find +expression at the work-bench rather than in the society of his wife and +daughter. Seated by Marzio's side, and learning from him all that could +be learned, Gianbattista had acquired at the same time a thorough +knowledge of his instincts and emotions, which neither Maria Luisa nor +Lucia was able to comprehend. +</p> +<p> +Marzio was tenacious of his ideas and of his schemes. Deficient in power +of initiative and in physical courage, he was obstinate beyond all +belief in his adherence to his theories. That he should suddenly yield +to a devotional impulse, fall upon his knees before a crucifix and cry +<i>meâ culpâ</i> over his whole past life, was altogether out of the +question. In Gianbattista's opinion it was almost as impossible that he +should abandon in a moment the plan which he had announced with so much +resolution on the previous evening. It was certain that before declaring +his determination to marry his daughter to the lawyer he must have +ruminated and planned during many days, as it was his habit to do in all +the matters of his life, without consulting any one, or giving the +slightest hint of his intention. Some part of his remarkable talent +depended upon this faculty of thoroughly considering a resolution before +proceeding to carry it out; and it is a part of every really great +talent in every branch of creative art, for it is the result of a great +continuity in the action of the mind combined with the power of +concentration and the virtue of reticence. Many a work has appeared to +the world to be the spontaneous creation of transcendent genius, which +has, in reality, been conceived, studied, and elaborated during years of +silence. Reticence, concentration, and continuity, are characteristics +which cannot influence one part of a man's life without influencing the +rest as well. The habit of studying before proceeding is co-existent +with the necessity of considering before acting; and a man who is +reticent concerning one half of his thoughts is not communicative about +the other half. Nature does not do things by halves, and the nerves +which animate the gesture at the table are the same which guide the +chisel at the work-bench. +</p> +<p> +Gianbattista understood Marzio's character, and in his mind tried to +construct the future out of the present. He endeavoured to follow out +what he supposed to be the chiseller's train of thought to its +inevitable conclusion, and the more he reflected on the situation the +more certain he became that Lucia's hypothesis was untenable. It was not +conceivable, under any circumstances whatever, that Marzio should +suddenly turn into a gentle, forgiving creature, anxious only for the +welfare of others, and willing to sacrifice his own inclinations and +schemes to that laudable end. +</p> +<p> +At twelve o'clock, Marzio appeared, cold, silent, and preoccupied. His +manner did not encourage the idea entertained by Lucia, though the girl +explained it to herself on the ground that her father was ashamed of +having yielded so easily, and was unwilling to have it thought that he +was too good-natured. There was truth in her idea, and it showed a good +deal of common sense and appreciation of character. But it was not the +whole truth. Marzio not only felt humiliated at having suffered himself +to be overcome by his daughter's entreaties; he regretted it, and wished +he could undo what he had done. It was too late, however. To change his +mind a second time would be to show such weakness as his family had +never witnessed in his actions. +</p> +<p> +He ate his food in silence, and the rest of the party ventured but few +remarks. They inwardly congratulated themselves upon the favourable +issue of the affair, in so far as it could be said to have reached a +conclusion, and they all dreaded equally some fresh outburst of anger, +should Marzio's temper be ruffled. Gianbattista himself set the example +of discretion. As for the Signora Pandolfi, she had ready in her pocket +the money her husband had given her in the morning for the purchase of +Lucia's outfit, and she hoped at every moment that Marzio would ask for +it, which would have been a sign that he had abandoned the idea of the +marriage with Carnesecchi. But Marzio never mentioned the subject. He +ate as quickly as he could, swallowed a draught of weak wine and water, +and rose from the table without a word. With a significant nod to Maria +Luisa and Lucia, Gianbattista left his seat and followed the artist +towards the door. Marzio looked round sharply as he heard the steps +behind him. +</p> +<p> +"Lucia told me," said the young man simply. "If you wish it, I will come +and work." +</p> +<p> +Marzio hesitated a moment, beating his soft felt hat over his arm to +remove the dust. +</p> +<p> +"You can go with the men and put up the prince's grating," he said at +last. "The right hand side is ready fitted. If you work hard you can +finish it before night." +</p> +<p> +"Very well," answered Gianbattista. "I will see to it. I have the keys +here. In fire minutes I will come across." +</p> +<p> +Marzio nodded and went out. Gianbattista returned to the room where the +women were finishing their dinner. +</p> +<p> +"It is all right," he said. "I am to put up the grating this afternoon. +Will you come and see it, Sora Luisa?" He spoke to the mother, but he +included the daughter by his look. +</p> +<p> +"It is very far," objected the Signora Pandolfi, "and we have been +walking so much this morning. I think this day will never end!" +</p> +<p> +"Courage, mamma," said Lucia, "it will do you good to walk. Besides, +there is the omnibus. What did he say, Tista? Am I not right?" +</p> +<p> +"Who knows? He is very quiet," replied the apprentice. +</p> +<p> +"What is it? What are you right about, my heart?" asked Maria Luisa. +</p> +<p> +"She thinks Sor Marzio has suddenly turned into a sugar doll," answered +Gianbattista, with a laugh. "It may be. They say they make sugar out of +all sorts of things nowadays." +</p> +<p> +"<i>Capperi!</i> It would be hard!" exclaimed Maria Luisa. "If there is +enough sugar in him to sweeten a teaspoonful of coffee, write to me," +she added ironically. +</p> +<p> +"Well—I shall be at the church in an hour, but it will be time enough +if you come at twenty-three o'clock—between twenty-two and +twenty-three." This means between one hour and two hours before sunset. +"The light is good then, for there is a big west window," added +Gianbattista in explanation. +</p> +<p> +"We will come before that," said Lucia. "Good-bye, Tista, and take care +not to catch cold in that damp place." +</p> +<p> +"And you too," he answered, "cover yourselves carefully." +</p> +<p> +With this injunction, and a parting wave of the hand, he left the house, +affecting a gay humour he did not really feel. His invitation to the two +women to join him in the church had another object besides that of +showing them the magnificent gilded grating which was to be put in +place. Gianbattista feared that Marzio had sent him upon this business +for the sake of getting him out of the way, and he did not know what +might happen in his absence. The artist might perhaps choose that time +for going in search of Gasparo Carnesecchi in order to bring him to the +house and precipitate the catastrophe which the apprentice still feared, +in spite of the last events of the morning. It was not unusual for Maria +Luisa and her daughter to accompany him and Marzio when a finished work +was to be set up, and Gianbattista knew that there could be no +reasonable objection to such, a proceeding. +</p> +<p> +With an anxious heart he left the house and crossed the street to the +workshop where the men were already waiting for the carts which were to +convey the heavy grating to its destination. The pieces were standing +against the walls, wrapped in tow and brown paper, and immense parcels +lay tied up upon the benches. It was a great piece of work of the +decorative kind, but of the sort for which Marzio cared little. Great +brass castings were chiselled and finished according to his designs +without his touching them with his hands. Huge twining arabesques of +solid metal were prepared in pieces and fitted together with screws that +ran easily in the thread, and then were taken apart again. Then came the +laborious work of gilding by the mercury process, smearing every piece +very carefully with an amalgam of mercury and gold, and putting it into +a gentle, steady fire, until the mercury had evaporated, tearing only +the dull gold in an even deposit on the surfaces. Then the finishing, +the burnishing of the high lights, and the cleaning of the portions +which were to remain dull. Sometimes the gilding of a piece failed, and +had to be begun again, and there was endless trouble in saving the gold, +as well as in preventing the workmen from stealing the amalgam. It was +slow and troublesome work, and Marzio cared little for it, though his +artistic instinct restrained him from allowing it to leave the workshop +until it had been perfected to the highest degree. +</p> +<p> +At present the artist stood in the outer room among the wrapped pieces, +his pipe in his mouth and his hands in his pockets. A moment after +Gianhattista had entered, two carts rolled up to the door and the +loading began. +</p> +<p> +"Take the drills and some screws to spare," said Marzio, looking into +the bag of tools the foreman had prepared. "One can never tell in these +monstrous things." +</p> +<p> +"It will be the first time, if we have to drill a new hole after you +have fitted a piece of work, Maestro Marzio," answered the foreman, who +had an unlimited admiration for his master's genius and foresight. +</p> +<p> +"Never mind; do as I tell you. We may all make mistakes in this world," +returned the artist, giving utterance to a moral sentiment which did not +influence him beyond the precincts of the workshop. The workman obeyed, +and added the requisite instruments to the furnishing of his leather +bag. +</p> +<p> +"And be careful, Tista," added Marzio, turning to the apprentice. "Look +to the sockets in the marble when you place the large pieces. Measure +them with your compass, you know; if they are too loose you have the +thin plates of brass to pack them; if they are tight, file away, but +finish and smooth it well Don't leave anything rough." +</p> +<p> +Gianbattista nodded as he lent a helping hand to the workmen who were +carrying the heavy pieces to the carts. +</p> +<p> +"Will you come to the church before night?" he asked. +</p> +<p> +"Perhaps. I cannot tell. I am very busy." +</p> +<p> +In ten minutes the pieces were all piled upon the two vehicles, and +Gianbattista strode away on foot with the workmen. He had not thought of +changing his dress, and had merely thrown an old overcoat over his grey +woollen blouse. For the time, he was an artisan at work. When working +hours were over, and on Sundays, he loved to put on the stiff high +collar and the cheeked clothes which suggested the garments of the +English tourist. He was then a different person, and, in accordance with +the change, he would smoke a cigarette and pull his cuffs over his +hands, like a real gentleman, adjusting the angle of his hat from time +to time, and glancing at his reflection in the shop windows as he passed +along. But work was work; it was a pity to spoil good clothes with +handling tools and castings, and jostling against the men, and, +moreover, the change affected his nature. He could not handle a hammer +or a chisel when he felt like a real gentleman, and when he felt like an +artisan he must enjoy the liberty of being able to tuck up his sleeves +and work with a will. At the present moment, too, he was proud of being +in sole charge of the work, and he could not help thinking what a fine +thing it would be to be married to Lucia and to be the master of the +workshop. With the sanguine enthusiasm of a very young man who loves his +occupation, he put his whole soul into what he was to do, assured that +every skilful stroke of the hammer, every difficulty overcome, brought +him nearer to the woman he loved. +</p> +<p> +Marzio entered the inner studio when Gianbattista was gone, leaving a +boy who was learning to cut little files—the preliminary to the +chiseller's profession—in charge of the outer workshop. The artist shut +himself in and bolted the door, glad to be alone with the prospect of +not being disturbed during the whole afternoon. He seemed not to +hesitate about the work he intended to do, for he immediately took in +hand the crucifix, laid it upon the table, and began to study it, using +a lens from time to time as he scrutinised each detail. His rough hair +fell forward over his forehead, and his shoulders rounded themselves +till he looked almost deformed. +</p> +<p> +He had suffered very strong emotions during the last twenty-four +hours—enough to have destroyed the steadiness of an ordinary man's +hand; but with Marzio manual skill was the first habit of nature, and it +would have been hard to find a mental impression which could shake his +physical nerves. His mind, however, worked rapidly and almost fiercely, +while his eyes searched the minute lines of the work he was examining. +</p> +<p> +Uppermost in his thoughts was a confused sense of humiliation and of +exasperation against his brother. The anger he felt had nearly been +expressed in a murderous deed not more than two or three hours earlier, +and the wish to strike was still present in his mind. He twisted his +lips into an ugly smile as he recalled the scene in every detail; but +the determination was different from the reality and more in accordance +with his feelings. He realised again that moment during which he had +held the sharp instrument over his brother's head, and the thought which +had then passed so rapidly through his brain recurred again with +increased clearness. He remembered that beneath the iron-bound box in +the corner there was a trap-door which descended to the unused cellar, +for his workshop had in former times been a wine-shop, and he had hired +the cellar with it. One sharp blow would have done the business. A few +quick movements and Paolo's body would have been thrown down the dark +steps beneath, the trap closed again, the safe replaced in its position. +It was eleven o'clock then, or thereabouts. He would have sent the +workmen to their dinner, and would have returned to the inner studio. +They would have supposed afterwards that Don Paolo had left the place +with him. He would have gone home and would have said that Paolo had +left him—or, no—he would have said that Paolo had not been there, for +some one might see him leave the workshop alone. In the night he would +have returned, his family thinking he had gone to meet his friends, as +he often did. When the streets were quiet he would have carried the body +away upon the hand-cart that stood in the entry of the outer room. It +was not far—scarcely three hundred yards, allowing for the turnings—to +the place where the Via Montella ends in a mud bank by the dark river. A +deserted neighbourhood, too—a turn to the left, the low trees of the +Piazza de' Branca, the dark, short, straight street to the water. At one +o'clock after midnight who was stirring? It would all have been so +simple, so terribly effectual. +</p> +<p> +And then there would have been no more Paolo, no more domestic +annoyances, no more of the priest's smooth-faced disapprobation and +perpetual opposition in the house. He would have soon brought Maria +Luisa and Lucia to reason. What could they do without the support of +Paolo? They were only women after all. As for Gianbattista, if once the +poisonous influence of Paolo were removed—and how surely +removed!—Marzio's lips twisted as though he were tasting the sourness +of failure, like an acid fruit—if once the priest were gone, +Gianbattista would come back to his old ways, to his old scorn of +priests in general, of churches, of oppression, of everything that +Marzio hated. He might marry Lucia then, and be welcome. After all, he +was a finer fellow for the pretty girl than Gasparo Carnesecchi, with +his claw fingers and his vinegar salad. That was only a farce, that +proposal about the lawyer—the real thing was to get rid of Paolo. There +could be no healthy liberty of thought in the house while this fellow +was sneaking in and out at all hours. Tumble Paolo into a quiet +grave—into the river with a sackful of old castings at his neck—there +would be peace then, and freedom. Marzio ground his teeth as he thought +how nearly he had done the thing, and how miserably he had failed. It +had been the inspiration of the moment, and the details had appeared +clear at once to his mind. Going over them he found that he had not been +mistaken. If Paolo came again, and he had the chance, he would do it. It +was perhaps all the better that he had found time to weigh the matter. +</p> +<p> +But would Paolo come again? Would he ever trust himself alone in the +workshop? Had he guessed, when he turned so suddenly and saw the weapon +in the air, that the blow was on the very point of descending? Or had +he been deceived by the clumsy excuse Marzio had made about the sum +shining in his eyes? +</p> +<p> +He had remained calm, or Marzio tried to think so. But the artist +himself had been so much moved during the minutes that followed that he +could hardly feel sure of Paolo's behaviour. It was a chilling thought, +that Paolo might have understood and might have gone away feeling that +his life had been saved almost by a miracle. He would not come back, the +cunning priest, in that case; he would not risk his precious skin in +such company. It was not to be expected—a priest was only human, after +all, like any other man. Marzio cursed his ill luck again as he bent +over his work. What a moment this would be if Paolo would take it into +his head to make another visit! Even the men were gone. He would send +the one boy who remained to the church where Gianbattista was working, +with a message. They would be alone then, he and Paolo. The priest might +scream and call for help—the thick walls would not let any sound +through them. It would be even better than in the morning, when he had +lost his opportunity by a moment, by the twinkling of an eye. +</p> +<p> +"They say hell is paved with good intentions—or lost opportunities," +muttered Marzio. "I will send Paolo with the next opportunity to help in +the paving." +</p> +<p> +He laughed softly at his grim joke, and bent lower over the crucifix. +By this time he had determined what to do, for his reflections had not +interfered with his occupation. Removing two tiny silver screws which +fitted with the utmost exactness in the threads, he loosened the figure +from the cross, removed the latter to a shelf on the wall, and returning +laid the statue on a soft leathern pad, surrounding it with sand-bags +till it was propped securely in the position he required. Then he took a +very small chisel, adjusted it with the greatest care, and tapped upon +it with the round wooden handle of his little hammer. At each touch he +examined the surface with his lens to assure himself that he was making +the improvement he contemplated. It was very delicate work, and as he +did it he felt a certain pride in the reflection that he could not have +detected the place where improvement was possible when he had worked +upon the piece ten years ago. He found it now, in the infinitesimal +touches upon the expression of the face, in the minute increase in the +depressions and accentuated lines in the anatomy of the figure. As he +went over each portion he became more and more certain that though he +could not at present do better in the way of idea and general execution, +he had nevertheless gained in subtle knowledge of effects and in skill +of handling the chisel upon very delicate points. The certainty gave +him the real satisfaction of legitimate pride. He knew that he had +reached the zenith of his capacities. His old wish to keep the crucifix +for himself began to return. +</p> +<p> +If he disposed of Paolo he might keep his work. Only Paolo had seen it. +The absurd want of logic in the conclusion did not strike him. He had +not pledged himself to his brother to give this particular crucifix to +the Cardinal, and if he had, he could easily have found a reason for +keeping it back. But he was too much accustomed to think that Paolo was +always in the way of his wishes, to look at so simple a matter in such a +simple light. +</p> +<p> +"It is strange," he said to himself. "The smallest things seem to point +to it. If he would only come!" +</p> +<p> +Again his mind returned to the contemplation of the deed, and again he +reviewed all the circumstances necessary for its safe execution. What an +inspiration, he thought, and what a pity it had not found shape in fact +at the very moment when it had presented itself! He considered why he +had never thought of it before, in all the years, as a means of freeing +himself effectually from the despotism he detested. It was a despotism, +he reflected, and no other word expressed it. He recalled many scenes in +his home, in which Paolo had interfered. He remembered how one Sunday, +in the afternoon, they had all been together before going to walk in +the Corso, and how he had undertaken to demonstrate to Maria Luisa and +Lucia the folly of wasting time in going to church on Sundays. He had +argued gently and reasonably, he thought. But suddenly Paolo had +interrupted him, saying that he would not allow Marzio to compare a +church to a circus, nor priests to mountebanks and tight-rope dancers. +Why not? Then the women had begun to scream and cry, and to talk of his +blasphemous language until he could not hear himself speak. It was +Paolo's fault. If Paolo had not been there the women would have listened +patiently enough, and would doubtless have reaped some good from his +reasonable discourse. On another occasion Marzio had declared that Lucia +should never be taught anything about Christianity, that the definition +of God was reason, that Garibaldi had baptized one child in the name of +Reason and that he, Marzio, could baptize another quite as effectually. +Paolo had interfered, and Maria Luisa had screamed. The contest had +lasted nearly a month, at the end of which tune, Marzio had been obliged +to abandon the uneven contest, vowing vengeance in some shape for the +future. +</p> +<p> +Many and many such scenes rose to his memory, and in every one Paolo was +the opposer, the enemy of his peace, the champion of all that he hated +and despised. In great things and small his brother had been his +antagonist from his early manhood, through eighteen years of married +life to the present day. And yet, without Paolo, he could hardly have +hoped to find himself in his present state of fortune. +</p> +<p> +This was one of the chief sources of his humiliation in his own eyes. +With such a character as his, it is eminently true that it is harder to +forgive a benefit than an injury. He might have felt less bitterly +against his brother if he had not received at his hands the orders and +commissions which had turned into solid money in the bank. It was hard +to face Paolo, knowing that he owed two-thirds of his fortune to such a +source. If he could get rid of the priest he would be relieved at once +from the burden of this annoyance, of this financial subjection, as well +of all that embittered his life. He pictured to himself his wife and +daughter listening respectfully to his harangues and beginning to +practise his principles, Gianbattista, an eloquent member of the society +in the inner room of the old inn, reformed, purged from his sneaking +fondness for Paolo—since Paolo would not be in the world any +longer—and ultimately married to Lucia, the father of children who +should all be baptized in the name of Reason, and the worthy successor +of himself, Marzio Pandolfi. +</p> +<p> +Scrutinising the statue under his lens, he detected a slight +imperfection in the place where one of the sharp thorns touched the +silver forehead of the beautiful, tortured head. He looked about for a +tool fine enough for the work, but none suited his wants. He took up the +long fine-pointed punch he had thrown back upon the table after the +scene in the morning. It was too long, and over sharp, but by turning it +sideways it would do the work under his dexterous fingers. +</p> +<p> +"Strange!" he muttered, as he tapped upon the tool. "It is like a +consecration!" +</p> +<p> +When he had made the stroke he dropped the instrument into the pocket of +his blouse, as though fearing to lose it. He had no occasion to use it +again, though he went on with his work during several hours. +</p> +<p> +The thoughts which had passed through his brain recurred, and did not +diminish in clearness. On the contrary, it was as though the passing +impulse of the morning had grown during those short hours into a settled +and unchangeable resolution. Once he rose from his stool, and going to +the corner, dragged away the iron-bound safe from its place. A rusty +ring lay flat in a little hollow in the surface of the trap-door. Marzio +bent over it with a pale face and gleaming eyes. It seemed to him as +though, if he looked round, he should see Paolo's body lying on the +floor, ready to be dropped into the space below. He raised the wood and +set the trap back against the wall, peering down into the black depths. +A damp smell came up to his nostrils from the moist staircase. He struck +a match, and held it into the opening, to see in what direction the +stairs led down. +</p> +<p> +Something moved behind him and made a little noise. With a short cry of +horror Marzio sprang back from the opening and looked round. It was as +though the body of the murdered man had stirred upon the floor. His +overstrained imagination terrified him, and his eyes started from his +head. He examined the bench and saw the cause of the sound in a moment. +The silver Christ, unsteadily propped in the position in which he had +just placed it, had fallen upon one side of the pad by its own weight. +</p> +<p> +Marzio's heart still beat desperately as he went back to the hole and +carefully reclosed the trap-door, dragging the heavy safe to its +position over the ring. Trembling violently, he sat down upon his stool +and wiped the cold perspiration from his forehead. Then, as he laid the +figure upon the cushion, he glanced uneasily behind him and at the +corner. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0009" id="h2HCH0009"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER IX +</h2> +<p> +When Don Paolo had shut the door of the studio and found himself once +more in the open street, he felt a strangely unpleasant sensation about +the heart, and for a few moments he was very pale. He had suffered a +shock, and in spite of his best efforts to explain away what had +occurred, he knew that he had been in danger. Any one who, being himself +defenceless, has suddenly seen a pistol pointed at him in earnest, or a +sharp weapon raised in the air to strike him, knows the feeling well +enough. Probably he has afterwards tried to reason upon what he felt in +that moment, and has failed to come to any conclusion except the very +simple one, that he was badly frightened. Hector was no coward, but he +let Achilles chase him three times round Troy before he could make up +his mind to stand and fight, and but for Athena he might have run even +further. And yet Hector was armed at all points for battle. He was badly +frightened, brave man as he was. +</p> +<p> +But when the first impression was gone, and Paolo was walking quickly +in the direction of the palace where the Cardinal lived, he stoutly +denied to himself that Marzio had meant to harm him. In the first place, +he could find no adequate reason for such an attempt upon his life. It +was true that his relations with his brother had not been very amicable +for some time; but between quarrelling and doing murder, Paolo saw a +gulf too wide to be easily overstepped, even by such a person as Marzio. +Then, too, the good man was unwilling to suspect any one of bad +intentions, still less of meditating a crime. This consideration, +however, was not, logically speaking, in Marzio's favour; for since +Paolo was less suspicious than other men, it must necessarily have +needed a severe shock to shake his faith in his brother's innocence. He +had seem the weapon in the air, and had seen also the murderous look in +the artist's eyes. +</p> +<p> +"I had better not think anything more about it," he said to himself, +fearing lest he should think anything unjust. +</p> +<p> +So he went on his way towards the palace, and tried to think about +Gianbattista and Lucia, their marriage and their future life. The two +young faces came up before him as he walked, and he smiled calmly, +forgetting what he had so recently passed through, in the pleasant +contemplation of a happiness not his own. He reached his rooms, high up +at the top of the ancient building, and he sighed with a sense of +relief as he sat down upon the battered old chair before his +writing-table. +</p> +<p> +Presently the Cardinal sent for him. Don Paolo rose and carefully +brushed the dust from his cassock and mantle, and smoothed the long silk +nap of his hat. He was a very neat man and scrupulous as to his +appearance. Moreover, he regarded the Cardinal with a certain awe, as +being far removed beyond the sphere of ordinary humanity, even though he +had known him intimately for years. This idea of the great importance of +the princes of the Church is inherent in the Roman mind. There is no +particular reason why it should be eradicated, since it exists, and does +no harm to any one, but it is a singular fact and worthy of remark. It +is one of those many relics of old times, which no amount of outward +change has been able to obliterate. A cardinal in Rome occupies a +position wholly distinct from that of any other dignitary or hereditary +noble. It is not so elsewhere, except perhaps in some parts of the +south. The Piedmontese scoffs at cardinals, because he scoffs at the +church and at all religion in general. The Florentine shrugs his +shoulders because cardinals represent Rome, and Rome, with all that is +in it, is hateful to Florence, and always was. But the true Roman, even +when he has adopted the ideas of the new school, still feels an +unaccountable reverence for the scarlet mantle. There is a +dignity—often, now, very far from magnificent—about the household of a +cardinal, which is not found elsewhere. The servants are more grave and +tread more softly, the rooms are darker and more severe, the atmosphere +is more still and the silence more intense, than in the houses of lay +princes. A man feels in the very air the presence of a far-reaching +power, noiselessly working to produce great results. +</p> +<p> +Don Paolo descended the stairs and entered the apartments through the +usual green baize door, which swung upon its hinges by its own weight +behind him. He passed through several large halls, scantily and sombrely +furnished, in the last of which stood the throne chair, turned to the +wall, beneath a red canopy. Beyond this great reception-chamber, and +communicating with it by a low masked door, was the Cardinal's study, a +small room, very high and lighted by a single tall window which opened +upon an inner court of the palace. The furniture was very simple, +consisting of a large writing-table, a few high-backed chairs, and the +Cardinal's own easy-chair, covered with dingy leather and well worn by +use. On the dark green walls hung two engravings, one a portrait of Pius +IX., the other a likeness of Leo XIII. The Cardinal himself sat in the +arm-chair, holding a newspaper spread out upon his knees. +</p> +<p> +"Good-day, Don Paolo," he said, in a pleasant, but not very musical +voice. +</p> +<p> +His Eminence was a man about sixty years of age, hale and strong in +appearance, but below the middle height and somewhat inclining to +stoutness. His face was round, and the complexion very clear, which, +with his small and bright brown eyes, gave him a look of cheerful +vitality. Short white hair fringed his head where it was not covered by +the small scarlet skull-cap. He wore a purple cassock with scarlet +buttons and a scarlet silk mantle, which fell in graceful folds over one +arm of the chair. +</p> +<p> +"Good-day, Eminence," answered Don Paolo, touching the great ruby ring +with his lips. Then, in obedience to a gesture, the priest sat down upon +one of the high-backed chairs. +</p> +<p> +"What weather have we to-day?" asked the Cardinal after a pause. +</p> +<p> +"Scirocco, Eminence." +</p> +<p> +"Ah, I thought so—especially this morning, very early. It is very +disagreeable. Since Padre Secchi found that the scirocco really brings +the sand of the desert with it, I dislike it more than ever. And what +have you been doing, Don Paolo? Have you been to see about the +crucifix?" +</p> +<p> +"I spoke to my brother about it last night, Eminence. He said he would +do his best to make it in the time, but that he would have preferred to +have a little longer." +</p> +<p> +"He is a good artist, your brother," said the Cardinal, nodding his head +slowly and joining his hands, while the newspaper slipped to the floor. +</p> +<p> +"A good artist," repeated Don Paolo, stooping to pick up the sheet. "I +have just seen his best work—a crucifix such as your Eminence wishes. +Indeed, he proposed that you should take it, for he says he can make +nothing better." +</p> +<p> +"Let us see, let us see," answered the prelate, in a tone which showed +that he did not altogether like the proposal. "You say he has it already +made. Tell me, has your brother much work to do just now?" +</p> +<p> +"Not much, Eminence. He has just finished the grating of a chapel for +some church or other. I think I saw a silver ewer begun upon his table." +</p> +<p> +"I thought that perhaps he had not time for my crucifix." +</p> +<p> +"But he is an artist, my brother!" cried the priest, who resented the +idea that Marzio might wish to palm off an ill-made object in order to +save time. "He is a good artist, he loves the work, he always does his +best! When he says he can do nothing better than what he has already +finished, I believe him." +</p> +<p> +"So much the better," replied the Cardinal. "But we must see the work +before deciding. You seem to have great faith in your brother's good +intentions, Don Paolo. Is it not true? Dear me! You were almost angry +with me for suggesting that he might be too busy to undertake my +commission." +</p> +<p> +"Angry! I angry? Your Eminence is unjust. Marzio puts much conscience +into his work. That is all." +</p> +<p> +"Ah, he is a man of conscience? I did not know. But, being your brother, +he should be, Don Paolo." The prelate's bright brown eyes twinkled. +</p> +<p> +Paolo was silent, though he bowed his head in acknowledgment of the +indirect praise. +</p> +<p> +"You do not say anything," observed the Cardinal, looking at his +secretary with a smile. +</p> +<p> +"He is a man of convictions," answered Paolo, at last. +</p> +<p> +"That is better than nothing, better than being lukewarm. 'Because thou +art lukewarm,' you know the rest." +</p> +<p> +"<i>Incipiam te evomere</i>," replied the priest mechanically. "Marzio is not +lukewarm." +</p> +<p> +"<i>Frigidusne?</i>" asked the Cardinal. +</p> +<p> +"Hardly that." +</p> +<p> +"<i>An calidus?</i>" +</p> +<p> +"Not very, Eminence. That is, not exactly." +</p> +<p> +"But then, in heaven's name, what is he?" laughed the prelate. "If he is +not cold, nor hot, nor lukewarm, what is he? He interests me. He is a +singular case." +</p> +<p> +"He is a man who has his opinions," answered Don Paolo. "What shall I +say? He is so good an artist that he is a little crazy about other +things." +</p> +<p> +"His opinions are not ours, I suppose. I have sometimes thought as much +from the way you speak of him. Well, well—he is not old; his opinions +will change. You are very much attached to your brother, Don Paolo, are +you not?" +</p> +<p> +"We are brothers, Eminence." +</p> +<p> +"So were Cain and Abel, if I am not mistaken," observed the Cardinal. +Paolo looked about the room uneasily. "I only mean to say," continued +the prelate, "that men may be brothers and yet not love each other." +</p> +<p> +"<i>Come si fà?</i> What can one do about it?" ejaculated Paolo. +</p> +<p> +"You must try and influence him. You must do your best to make him +change his views. You must make an effort to bring him to a better state +of mind." +</p> +<p> +"Eh! I know," answered the priest. "I do my best, but I do not succeed. +He thinks I interfere. I am not San Filippo Neri. Why should I conceal +the matter? Marzio is not a bad man, but he is crazy about what he calls +politics. He believes in a new state of things. He thinks that +everything is bad and ought to be destroyed. Then he and his friends +would build up the ideal state." +</p> +<p> +"There would soon be nothing but equality to eat—fried, roast and +boiled. I have heard that there are socialists even here in Rome. I +cannot imagine what they want." +</p> +<p> +"They want to divide the wealth of the country among themselves," +answered Don Paolo. "What strange ideas men have!" +</p> +<p> +"To divide the wealth of the country they have only to subtract a paper +currency from an inflated national debt. There would be more +unrighteousness than mammon left after such a proceeding. It reminds me +of a story I heard last year. A deputation of socialists waited upon a +high personage in Vienna. Who knows what for? But they went. They told +him that it was his duty to divide his wealth amongst the inhabitants of +the city. And he said they were quite right. 'Look here,' said he, 'I +possess about seven hundred thousand florins. It chances that Vienna has +about seven hundred thousand inhabitants. Here, you have each one +florin. It is your share. Good-morning.' You see he was quite just. So, +perhaps, if your brother had his way, and destroyed everything, and +divided the proceeds equally, he would have less afterwards than he had +before. What do you think?" +</p> +<p> +"It is quite true, Eminence. But I am afraid he will never understand +that. He has very unchangeable opinions." +</p> +<p> +"They will change all the more suddenly when he is tired of them. Those +ideas are morbid, like the ravings of a man in a fever. When the fever +has worn itself out, there comes a great sense of lassitude, and a +desire for peace." +</p> +<p> +"Provided it ever really does wear itself out," said Don Paolo, sadly. +</p> +<p> +"Eh! it will, some day. With such political ideas, I suppose your +brother is an atheist, is he not?" +</p> +<p> +"I hope he believes in something," replied the priest evasively. +</p> +<p> +"And yet he makes a good living by manufacturing vessels for the service +of the Church," continued the Cardinal, with a smile. "Why did you never +tell me about your brother's peculiar views, Don Paolo?" +</p> +<p> +"Why should I trouble you with such matters? I am sorry I have said so +much, for no one can understand exactly what Marzio is, who does not +know him. It is an injury to him to let your Eminence know that he is a +freethinker. And yet he is not a bad man, I believe. He has no vices +that I know of, except a sharp tongue. He is sober and works hard. That +is much in these days. Though he is mistaken, he will doubtless come to +his senses, as you say. I do not hate him; I would not injure him." +</p> +<p> +"Why do you think it can harm him to let me about him? Do you think that +I, or others, would not employ him if we knew all about him?" +</p> +<p> +"It would seem natural that your Eminence should hesitate to do so." +</p> +<p> +"Let us see, Don Paolo. There are some bad priests in the world, I +suppose; are there not?" +</p> +<p> +"It is to be feared—" +</p> +<p> +"Yes, there are. There are bad priests in all forms of religion. Yet +they say mass. Of course, very often the people know that they are bad. +Do you think that the mass is less efficacious for the salvation of +those who attend it, provided that they themselves pray with the same +earnestness?" +</p> +<p> +"No; certainly not. For otherwise it would be necessary that the people +should ascertain whether the priest is in a state of grace every time he +celebrates; and since their salvation would then, depend upon that, they +would be committing a sin if they did not examine the relative morality +of different priests and select the most saintly one." +</p> +<p> +"Well then, so much the more is it indifferent whether the inanimate +vessels we use are chiselled by a saint or an unbeliever. Their use +sanctifies them, not the moral goodness of the artist. For, by your own +argument, we should otherwise he committing a sin if we did not find +out the most saintly men and set them to silver-chiselling instead of +ordaining them bishops and archbishops. It would take a long time to +build a church if you only employed masons who were in a state of +grace." +</p> +<p> +"Well, but would you not prefer that the artist should be a good man?" +</p> +<p> +"For his own sake, Don Paolo, for his own sake. The thing he makes is +not at all less worthy if he is bad. Are there not in many of our +churches pillars that stood in Roman temples? Is not the canopy over the +high altar in Saint Peter's made of the bronze roof of the Pantheon? And +besides, what is goodness? We are all bad, but some are worse than +others. It is not our business to judge, or to distribute commissions +for works of art to those whom we think the best among men, as one gives +medals and prizes to industrious and well-behaved children." +</p> +<p> +"That is very clear, and very true," answered the priest. +</p> +<p> +He did not really want to discuss the question of Marzio's belief or +unbelief. Perhaps, if he had not been disturbed in mind by the events of +the morning he would have avoided the subject, as he had often done +before when the Cardinal had questioned him. But to-day he was not quite +himself, and being unable to tell a falsehood of any kind he had spoken +more of idle truth than he had wished. He felt that he had perhaps been +unjust to his brother. He looked ill at ease, and the Cardinal noticed +it, for he was a kindly man and very fond of his secretary. +</p> +<p> +"You must not let the matter trouble you," said the prelate, after a +pause. "I am an inquisitive old man, as you know, and I like to be +acquainted with my friends' affairs. But I am afraid I have annoyed +you—" +</p> +<p> +"Oh! Your Eminence could never—" +</p> +<p> +"Never intentionally," interrupted the Cardinal. "But it is human to +err, and it is especially human to bore one's fellow-creatures with +inquisitive questions. We all have our troubles, Don Paolo, and I am +yours. Some day, perhaps, you will be a cardinal yourself—who knows? I +hope so. And then you will have an excellent secretary, who will be much +too good, even for you, and whom you can torture by the hour together +with inquiries about his relations. Well, if it is only for your sake, +Sor Marzio shall never have any fewer commissions, even if he turn out +more in earnest with his socialism than most of those fellows." +</p> +<p> +"You are too kind," said Paolo simply. +</p> +<p> +He was very grateful for the kindly words, for he knew that they were +meant and not said merely in jest. The idea that he had perhaps injured +Marzio in the Cardinal's estimation was very painful to him, in spite +of what he had felt that morning. Moreover, the prelate's plain, +common-sense view of the case reassured him, and removed a doubt that +had long ago disturbed his peace of mind. On reflection it seemed true +enough, and altogether reasonable, but Paolo knew in his heart what a +sensation of repulsion, not to say loathing, he would experience if he +should ever be called upon to use in the sacred services a vessel of his +brother's making. The thought that those long, cruel fingers of Marzio's +had hammered and worked out the delicate design would pursue him and +disturb his thoughts. The sound of Marzio's voice, mocking at all the +priest held holy, would be in his ears and would mingle with the very +words of the canon. +</p> +<p> +But then, provided that he himself were not obliged to use his brother's +chalices, what could it matter? The Cardinal did not know the artist, +and whatever picture he might make to himself of the man would be +shadowy and indistinct. The feeling, then, was his own and quite +personal. It would be the height of superstitious folly to suppose that +any evil principle could be attached to the silver and gold because they +were chiselled by impious hands. A simple matter this, but one which had +many a time distressed Don Paolo. +</p> +<p> +There was a long pause after the priest's last words, during which the +prelate looked at him from time to time, examined his own white hands, +and turned his great ruby ring round his finger. +</p> +<p> +"Let us go to work," he said at length, as though dismissing the subject +of the conversation from his mind. +</p> +<p> +Paolo fetched a large portfolio of papers and established himself at the +writing-table, while the Cardinal examined the documents one by one, and +dictated what he had to say about them to his secretary. During two +hours or more the two men remained steadily at their task. When the last +paper was read and the last note upon it written out, the Cardinal rose +from his arm-chair and went to the window. There was no sound in the +room but that of the sand rattling upon the stiff surface, as Paolo +poured it over the wet ink in the old-fashioned way, shook it about and +returned it to the little sandbox by the inkstand. Suddenly the old +churchman turned round and faced the priest. +</p> +<p> +"One of these days, when you and I are asleep out there at San Lorenzo, +there will be a fight, my friend," he said. +</p> +<p> +"About what, Eminence?" asked the other. +</p> +<p> +"About silver chalices, perhaps. About many things. It will be a great +fight, such as the world has never seen before." +</p> +<p> +"I do not understand," said Don Paolo. +</p> +<p> +"Your brother represents an idea," answered the Cardinal. "That idea is +the subversion of all social principle. It is an idea which must spread, +because there is an enormous number of depraved men in the world who +have a very great interest in the destruction of law. The watchword of +that party will always be 'there is no God,' because God is order, and +they desire disorder. They will, it is true, always be a minority, +because the greater part of mankind are determined that order shall not +be destroyed. But those fellows will fight to the death, because they +know that in that battle there will be no quarter for the vanquished. It +will be a mighty struggle and will last long, but it will be decisive, +and will perhaps never be revived when it is once over. Men will kill +each other where-ever they meet, during months and years, before the end +comes, for all men who say that there is a God in Heaven will be upon +the one side, and all those who say there is no God will be upon the +other." +</p> +<p> +"May we not be alive to see anything so dreadful!" exclaimed Don Paolo +devoutly. +</p> +<p> +"No, you and I shall not see it. But those little children who are +playing with chestnuts down there in the court—they will see it. The +world is uneasy and dreads the very name of war, lest war should become +universal if it once breaks out. Tell your brother that." +</p> +<p> +"It is what he longs for. He is always speaking of it." +</p> +<p> +"Then it is inevitable. When many millions like him have determined that +there shall be evil done, it cannot long be warded off. Their blood be +on their own heads." +</p> +<p> +When Don Paolo had climbed again to his lonely lodging, half an hour +later, he pondered long upon what the Cardinal had said to him, and the +longer he thought of it, the more truth there seemed to be in the +prediction. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0010" id="h2HCH0010"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER X +</h2> +<p> +Gianbattista reached the church in which he was to do his work, and +superintended the unloading of the carts. It was but a little after one +o'clock, and he expected to succeed in putting up the grating before +night. The pieces were carefully carried to the chapel where they were +to be placed, and laid down in the order in which they would be needed. +It took a long time to arrange them, and the apprentice was glad he had +advised Maria Luisa and Lucia to come late. It would have wearied them, +he reflected, to assist at the endless fitting and screwing of the +joints, and they would have had no impression of the whole until they +were tired of looking at the details. +</p> +<p> +For hours he laboured with the men, not allowing anything to be done +without his supervision, and doing more himself than any of the workmen. +He grew hot and interested as the time went on, and he began to doubt +whether the work could be finished before sunset. The workmen +themselves, who preferred a job of this kind to the regular occupation +of the studio, seemed in no hurry, though they did what was expected of +them quietly and methodically. Each one of them was calculating, as +nearly as possible, the length of time needed to drive a screw, to lift +a piece into position, to finish off a shank till it fitted closely in +the prepared socket. Half an hour wasted by driblets to-day, would +ensure them for the morrow the diversion of an hour or two in coming to +the church and returning from it. +</p> +<p> +From time to time Gianbattista glanced towards the door, and as the +hours advanced his look took the same direction more often. At last, as +the rays of the evening sun fell through the western window, he heard +steps, and was presently rewarded by the appearance of the Signora +Pandolfi, followed closely by Lucia. They greeted Gianbattista from a +distance, for the church being under repairs was closed to the public, +and had not been in use for years, so that the sound of voices did not +seem unnatural nor irreverent. +</p> +<p> +"It is not finished," said Gianbattista, coming forward to meet them; +"but you can see what it will be like. Another hour will be enough." +</p> +<p> +At that moment Don Paolo suddenly appeared, walking fast up the aisle in +pursuit of the two women. They all greeted him with an exclamation of +surprise. +</p> +<p> +"Eh!" he exclaimed, "you are astonished to see me? I was passing and saw +you go in, and as I knew about the grating, I guessed what you came for +and followed you. Is Marzio here?" +</p> +<p> +"No," answered Gianbattista. "He said he might perhaps come, but I doubt +it. I fancy he wants to be alone." +</p> +<p> +"Yes," replied Don Paolo thoughtfully, "I daresay he wants to be alone." +</p> +<p> +"He has had a good many emotions to-day," remarked Gianbattista. "We +shall see how he will be this evening. Of course, you have heard the +news, Don Paolo? Besides, you see I am at work, so that the first great +difference has been settled. Lucia managed it—she has an eloquence, +that young lady! She could preach better than you, Don Paolo." +</p> +<p> +"She is a little angel," exclaimed the priest, tapping his niece's dark +cheek with his white hand. +</p> +<p> +"That is four to-day!" cried Lucia, laughing. "First mamma, then +papa—figure to yourself papa!—then Tista, and now Uncle Paolo. Eh! if +the wings don't grow before the Ave Maria—" +</p> +<p> +She broke off with a pretty motion of her shoulders, showing her white +teeth and turning to look at Gianbattista. Then the young man took them +to see the grating. A good portion of it was put up, and it produced a +good effect. The whole thing was about ten or twelve feet high, +consisting of widely-set gilt bars, between which were fastened large +arabesques and scrolls. On each side of the gate, in the middle, an +angel supported a metal drapery, of which the folds were in reality of +separate pieces, but which, as it now appeared, all screwed together in +its place, had a very free and light effect. It was work of a +conventional kind and of a conventional school, but even here Marzio's +great talent had shown itself in his rare knowledge of effects and free +modelling; the high lights were carefully chosen and followed out, and +the deep shadows of the folds in dull gold gave a richness to the +drapery not often found in this species of decoration. The figures of +the angels, too, were done by an artist's hand—conventional, like the +rest, but free from heaviness or anatomical defects. +</p> +<p> +"It is not bad," said Don Paolo, in a tone which surprised every one. He +was not often slow to praise his brother's work. +</p> +<p> +"How, not bad? Is that all you say?" asked Gianbattista, in considerable +astonishment. He felt, too, that as Marzio and he worked together, he +deserved acme part of the credit. "It is church decoration of course, +and not a 'piece,' as we say, but I would like to see anybody do +better." +</p> +<p> +"Well, well, Tista, forgive me," he answered, "The fact is, Marzio +showed me something to-day so wonderful, that I see no beauty in +anything else—or, at least, not so much beauty as I ought to see. I +went in to find him again, you know, just as Lucia was leaving, and he +showed me a crucifix—a marvel, a wonder!—he said he had had it a long +time, put away in a box." +</p> +<p> +"I never saw it," said Tista. +</p> +<p> +"I did!" exclaimed Lucia. She regretted the words as soon as she had +spoken them, and bit her lip. She had not told her mother what she had +told Gianbattista. +</p> +<p> +"When did you see it? Is it so very beautiful?" asked the Signora +Pandolfi. +</p> +<p> +"Oh, I only saw it through the door, when I went," she answered quickly. +"The door was open, but I knocked and I saw him hide it. But I think it +was very fine—splendid! What did you talk about, Uncle Paolo? You have +not told us about your visit. I whispered to you that everything was +settled, but you looked as though you did not understand. What did you +say to each other?" +</p> +<p> +"Oh, nothing—nothing of any importance," said Don Paolo in some +embarrassment. He suddenly recollected that, owing to his brother's +strange conduct, he had left the studio without saying a word about the +errand which had brought him. "Nothing," he repeated. "We talked about +the crucifix, and Marzio gave a very long explanation of the way it was +made. Besides, as Lucia says, she had told me that everything was +settled, and Marzio spoke very quietly." +</p> +<p> +This was literally true. Marzio's words had been gentle enough. It was +his action that had at first startled Don Paolo, and had afterwards set +him thinking and reflecting on the events of those few minutes. But he +would not for anything in the world have allowed any of his three +companions to know what had happened. He was himself not sure. Marzio +had excused the position of his hand by saying that the sun was in his +eyes. There was something else in his eyes, thought Paolo; a look of +hatred and of eager desire for blood which it was horrible to remember. +Perhaps he ought not to remember it, for he might, be mistaken, after +all, and it was a great sin to suspect any one of wishing to commit such +a crime; but nevertheless; and in spite of his desire that it might not +have been true, Don Paolo was conscious of having received the +impression, and he was sure that it had not been the result of any +foolish fright. He was not a cowardly, man, and although his physical +courage had rarely been put to the test, no one who knew him would have +charged him with the contemptible timidity which imagines danger +gratuitously, and is afraid where no fear is. He was of a better temper +than Marzio, who had been startled so terribly by a slight noise when +his back was turned. And yet he had been profoundly affected by the +scene of the morning, and had not yet entirely recovered his serenity. +</p> +<p> +Lucia noticed the tone of his answer, and suspected that something had +happened, though her suspicion took a direction exactly opposed to the +fact. She remembered what she had seen herself, and recalling the fact +that Paolo had entered the workshop just as she was leaving it, she saw +nothing unnatural in the supposition that her father's conversation with +her uncle had taken a religious tone. She used the word religion to +express to herself what she meant. She thought it quite possible that +after Marzio had been so suddenly softened, and evidently affected, by +her own fainting fit, and after having been absorbed in some sort of +devotional meditation, he might have spoken of his feelings to Don +Paolo, who in his turn would have seized the opportunity for working +upon his brother's mind. Paolo, she thought, would naturally not care to +speak lightly of such an occurrence, and his somewhat constrained manner +at the present moment might be attributed to this cause. To prevent any +further questions from her mother or Gianbattista, Lucia interposed. +</p> +<p> +"Yes," she said, "he seemed very quiet. He hardly spoke at dinner. But +Tista says he may perhaps be here before long, and then we shall know." +</p> +<p> +It was not very clear what was to be known, and Lucia hastened to direct +their attention to the new grating. Gianbattista returned to work with +the men, and the two women and Don Paolo stood looking on, occasionally +shifting their position to get a better view of the work. Gianbattista +was mounted upon a ladder which leaned against one of the marble pillars +at the entrance of the side chapel closed by the grating. A heavy piece +of arabesque work had just been got into its place, and was tied with +cords while the young man ran a screw through the prepared holes to +fasten one side of the fragment to the bar. He was awkwardly placed, but +he had sent the men to uncover and clean the last pieces, at a little +distance from where he was at work. The three visitors observed him with +interest, probably remarking to themselves that it must need good nerves +to maintain one's self in such a position. Don Paolo, especially, was +more nervous than the rest, owing, perhaps, to what had occurred in the +morning. All at once, as he watched Gianbattista's twisted attitude, as +the apprentice strained himself and turned so as to drive the screw +effectually, the foot of the ladder seemed to move a little on the +smooth marble pavement. With a quick movement Don Paolo stepped forward, +with the intention of grasping the ladder. +</p> +<p> +Hearing the sound of rapid steps, Gianbattista turned his head and a +part of his body to see what had happened. The sudden movement shifted +the weight, and definitely destroyed the balance of the ladder. With a +sharp screech, like that of a bad pencil scratching on a slate, the +lower ends of the uprights slipped outward from the pillar. +Gianbattista clutched at the metal bars desperately, but the long +screw-driver in his hands impeded him, and he missed his hold. +</p> +<p> +Don Paolo, the sound of whose step had at first made the young man turn, +and had thus probably precipitated the accident, sprang forward, threw +himself under the falling ladder, and grasped it with all his might. But +it was too late. Gianbattista was heavy, and the whole ladder with his +weight upon it had gained too much impetus to be easily stopped by one +man. With a loud crash he fell with the wooden frame upon the smooth +marble floor. Rolling to one side, Gianbattista leapt to his feet, dazed +but apparently unhurt. +</p> +<p> +The priest lay motionless in a distorted position under the ladder, his +head bent almost beneath his body, and one arm projecting upon the +pavement, seemingly twisted in its socket, the palm upwards. The long +white fingers twitched convulsively once or twice, and then were still. +It was all the affair of a moment. Maria Luisa screamed and leaned +against the pillar for support, while Lucia ran forward and knelt beside +the injured man. Gianbattista, whose life had probably been saved by Don +Paolo's quick action, was dragging away the great ladder, and the +workmen came running up in confusion to see what had happened. +</p> +<p> +It seemed as though Marzio's wish had been accomplished without his +agency. A deadly livid colour overspread the priest's refined features, +and as they lifted him his limp limbs hung down as though the vitality +would never return to them—all except the left arm, which was turned +stiffly out and seemed to refuse to hang down with the rest. It was +dislocated at the shoulder. +</p> +<p> +A scene of indescribable confusion followed, in which Gianbattista alone +seemed to maintain some semblance of coolness. The rest all spoke and +cried at once. Maria Luisa and Lucia knelt beside the body where they +had laid it on the steps of the high altar, crying aloud, kissing the +white hands and beating their breasts, praying, sobbing, and calling +upon Paolo to speak to them, all in a breath. +</p> +<p> +"He is dead as a stone," said one of the workmen in a low voice. +</p> +<p> +"Eh! He is in Paradise," said another, kneeling at the priest's feet and +rubbing them. +</p> +<p> +"Take him to the hospital, Sor Tista—" +</p> +<p> +"Better take him home—" +</p> +<p> +"I will run and call Sor Marzio—" +</p> +<p> +"There is an apothecary in the next street." +</p> +<p> +"A doctor is better—apothecaries are all murderers." +</p> +<p> +Gianbattista, very pale, but collected and steady, pushed the men gently +away from the body. +</p> +<p> +"<i>Cari miei</i>, my dear fellows," he said, "he may be alive. One of you +run and get a carriage to the side door of the sacristy. The rest of you +put the things together and be careful to leave nothing where it can +fall. We will take him to Sor Marzio's house and get the best doctor." +</p> +<p> +"There is not even a drop of holy water in the basins," moaned Maria +Luisa. +</p> +<p> +"He will go to Heaven without holy water," sobbed Lucia. "Oh, how good +he was—" +</p> +<p> +Gianbattista kneeled down in his turn and tried to find the pulse in the +poor limp wrist. Then he listened for the heart. He fancied he could +hear a faint flutter in the breast. He looked up and a little colour +came to his pale face. +</p> +<p> +"I think he is alive," he said to the two women, and then bent down +again and listened. "Yes," he continued joyfully. "The heart beats. +Gently—help me to carry him to the sacristy; get his hat one of you. +So—carefully—do not twist that arm. I think I see colour in his +cheeks—" +</p> +<p> +With four other men Gianbattista raised the body and bore it carefully +to the sacristy. The cab was already at the door, and in a few minutes +poor Don Paolo was placed in it. The hood was raised, and Maria Luisa +got in and sat supporting the drooping head upon her broad bosom. Lucia +took the little seat in front, and Gianbattista mounted to the box, +after directing the four men to follow in a second cab as fast as they +could, to help to carry the priest upstairs. He sent another in search +of a surgeon. +</p> +<p> +"Do not tell Sor Marzio—do not go to the workshop," he said in a last +injunction. He knew that Marzio would be of no use in such an emergency, +and he hoped that Don Paolo might be pronounced out of danger before the +chiseller knew anything of the accident. +</p> +<p> +In half an hour the injured man was lying in Gianbattista's bed. It was +now evident that he was alive, for he breathed heavily and regularly. +But the half-closed eyes had no intelligence in them, and the slight +flush in the hollow cheeks was not natural to see. The twisted arm still +stuck out of the bed-coverings in a painfully distorted attitude. The +two women and Gianbattista stood by the bedside in silence, waiting for +the arrival of the surgeon. +</p> +<p> +He came at last, a quiet-looking man of middle age, with grizzled hair +and a face deeply pitted with the smallpox. He seemed to know what he +was about, for he asked for a detailed account of the accident from +Gianbattista while he examined the patient. The young man, who was +beginning to feel the effects of the fall, now that the first excitement +had subsided, sat down while he told the story. The surgeon urged the +two women to leave the room. +</p> +<p> +"The left arm is dislocated at the shoulder, without fracture," said +the surgeon. "Lend me a hand, will you? Hold his body firmly—here and +here—with all your might, while I pull the joint into place. If his +head or spine are not injured the pain may bring him to consciousness. +That will be a good thing. Now, ready—one, two, three, pull!" +</p> +<p> +The two men gave a vigorous jerk, and to Gianbattista's surprise the arm +fell back in a natural position; but the injured priest's features +expressed no pain. He was evidently quite unconscious. A further +examination led the surgeon to believe that the harm was more serious. +There was a bad bruise on one side of the head, and more than one upon +other parts of the body. +</p> +<p> +"Will he live?" asked Gianbattista faintly, as he sank back into his +chair. +</p> +<p> +"Oh yes—probably. He is likely to have a brain fever; One cannot tell. +How old is he?" +</p> +<p> +He asked one or two other questions, arranging the patient's position +with skilful hands while he talked Then he asked for paper and wrote a +prescription. +</p> +<p> +"Nothing more can be done for the present," he said. "You should put +some ice on his head, and if he recovers consciousness, so as to speak +before I come back, observe what he says. He may be in a delirium, or he +may talk quite rationally. One cannot tell Send for this medicine and +give it to him if he is conscious. Otherwise, only keep his head cool. I +will come back early in the evening. You are not hurt yourself?" he +inquired, looking at Gianbattista curiously. +</p> +<p> +"No; I am badly shaken, and my hands are a little cut—that is all," +answered the young man. +</p> +<p> +"What a beautiful thing youth is!" observed the surgeon philosophically, +as he went away. +</p> +<p> +Gianbattista remained alone in the sick-room, seated upon his chair by +the head of the bed. With anxious interest and attention he watched the +expressionless face as the heavy breath came and went between the parted +lips. In the distance he could hear the sobbing and incoherent talk of +the two women, as the doctor explained to them Paolo's condition, but he +was now too much dazed to give any thought to them. It seemed to him +that Don Paolo had sacrificed his life for him, and that he had no other +duty than to sit beside the bed and watch his friend. All the +impressions of the afternoon were very much confused, and the shock of +the fall had told upon his nerves far more severely than he had at first +realised. His limbs ached and his hands pained him; at the same time he +felt dizzy, and the outline of Don Paolo's face grew indistinct as he +watched it. He was roused by the entry of Lucia, who had hastily laid +aside her hat. Her face was pale, and her dark eyes were swollen with +tears; her hair was in disorder and was falling about her neck. +Gianbattista instinctively rose and put his arm about the girl's waist +as they stood together and looked at the sick man. He felt that it was +his duty to comfort her. +</p> +<p> +"The doctor thinks he may get well," he said. +</p> +<p> +"Who knows," she answered tearfully, and shook her head, "Oh, Tista, he +was our best friend!" +</p> +<p> +"It was in trying to save me—" said the young fellow. But he got no +further. The words stuck in his throat. +</p> +<p> +"If he lives I will be a son to him!" he added presently. "I will never +leave him. But perhaps—perhaps he is too good to live, Lucia!" +</p> +<p> +"He must not die. I will take care of him," answered Lucia. "You must +pray for him, Tista, and I will—we all will!" +</p> +<p> +"Eh! I will try, but I don't understand that kind of thing as well as +you," said Gianbattista dolefully. "If you think it is of any use—" +</p> +<p> +"Of course it is of use, my heart; do not doubt it," replied the young +girl gravely. Then her features suddenly quivered, she turned away, and, +hiding her face on the pillow beside the priest's unconscious, head, she +sobbed as though her heart would break. Gianbattista knelt down at her +side and put his arm round her neck, whispering lovingly in her ear. +</p> +<p> +The day was fading, and the last glow of the sun in the south-western +sky came through the small window at the other end of the narrow room, +illuminating the simple furniture, the white bed coverings, the upturned +face of the injured man, and the two young figures that knelt at the +bedside. It was Gianbattista's room, and there was little enough in it. +The bare bricks, with only a narrow bit of green drugget by the bed, the +plain deal table before the window, the tiny round mirror set in lead, +at which the apprentice shaved himself, the crazy old chest of +drawers—that was all. The whitewashed walls were relieved by two or +three drawings of chalices and other church vessels, the colour of the +gold or silver, and of the gems, washed into one half of the design and +the other side left in black and white. A little black cross hung above +the bedstead, with a bit of an olive branch nailed over it—a +reminiscence of the last Palm Sunday. There were two nails in another +part of the room, on which some old clothes were hung—that was all. But +the deep light of the failing day shed a peaceful halo aver everything, +and touched the coarse details of a hardworking existence with the +divine light of Heaven. +</p> +<p> +Lucia's sobbing ceased after a while, and, as the sunset faded into +twilight and dusk, the silence grew more profound; the sick man's +breathing became lighter, as though in his unconsciousness he were +beginning to rest after the day in which he had endured so much. From +the sitting-room beyond the short passage the sound of Maria Luisa's +voice, moaning in concert with old Assunta, gradually diminished till +they were heard only at intervals, and at last ceased altogether. The +household of Marzio Pandolfi was hushed in the presence of a great +sorrow, and awed by the anticipation of a great misfortune. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0011" id="h2HCH0011"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER XI +</h2> +<p> +Marzio, in ignorance of all that was happening at the church, continued +to work in the solitude of his studio, and the current of his thoughts +flowed on in the same channel. He tried to force his attention upon the +details of the design he meditated against his brother's life, and for +some time he succeeded. But another influence had begun to work upon his +brain, since the moment when he had been frightened by the sound behind +him while he was examining the hole beneath the strong box. He would not +own to himself that such a senseless fear could have produced a +permanent impression on him, and yet he felt disturbed and unsettled, +unaccountably discomposed, and altogether uncomfortable. He could not +help looking round from time to time at the door, and more than once his +eyes rested for several seconds upon the safe, while a slight shiver ran +through his body and seemed to chill his fingers. +</p> +<p> +But he worked on in spite of all this. The habit of the chisel was not +to be destroyed by the fancied scare of a moment, and though his eyes +wandered now and then, they came back to the silver statue as keen as +ever. A little touch with the steel at one point, a little burnishing at +another, the accentuation of a line, the deepening of a shadow—he +studied every detail with a minute and scrupulous care which betrayed +his love for the work he was doing. +</p> +<p> +And yet the uneasiness grew upon him. He felt somehow as though Paolo +were present in the room with him, watching him over his shoulder, +suggesting improvements to be made, in that voice of his which now rang +distinctly in the artist's ear. His imagination worked morbidly, and he +thought of Paolo standing beside him, ordering him to do this or that +against his will, until he began to doubt his own judgment in regard to +what he was doing. He wondered whether he should feel the same thing +when Paolo was dead. Again he looked behind him, and the idea that he +was not alone gained force. Nevertheless the room was bright, brighter +indeed in the afternoon than it ever was in the morning, for the window +was towards the south, and though the first rays of the sun reached it +at about eleven in the morning, the buildings afterwards darkened it +again until the sun was in the west. Moreover to-day, the weather had +been changeable, and it had rained a little about noon. Now the air was +again clear, and the workshop was lit up so that the light penetrated +even to the ancient cobwebs in the corners, and touched the wax models +and casts on the shelves, and gilded the old wood of the door opposite +with rich brown gold. Marzio had a curtain of dusty grey linen which he +drew across the lower part of the window to keep the sunshine off his +work. +</p> +<p> +He was impatient with himself, and annoyed by the persistency of the +impression that Paolo was in some way present in the place. As though to +escape from it by braving it he set himself resolutely to consider the +expediency of destroying his brother. The first quick impulse in the +morning had developed to a purpose in the afternoon. He had constructed +the probable occurrences out of the materials of his imagination, and +had done it so vividly as to frighten himself. The fright had in some +measure cooled his intention, and had been now replaced by a new element +in his thoughts, by the apprehension for the future if the deed were +accomplished. He began to speculate upon what would happen afterwards, +wondering whether by any means the murder could be discovered, and if in +that case it could ever be traced to him. +</p> +<p> +At the first faint suggestion that such a thing as he was devising could +possibly have another issue than he had supposed, Marzio felt a cold +sensation in his heart, and his thoughts took a different direction. It +was all simple enough. To get Paolo into the workshop alone—a +blow—the concealment of the dead body until night—then the short three +hundred yards with the hand-cart—it seemed very practicable. Yes, but +if by any chance he should meet a policeman under those low trees in the +Piazza de' Branca, what would happen? A man with a hand-cart, and with +something shapeless upon the hand-cart, in the dark, hurrying towards +the river—such a man would excite the suspicions of a policeman. Marzio +might be stopped and asked what he was taking away. He would +answer—what would he answer in such a case? The hand-cart would be +examined and found to contain a dead priest. Besides, he reflected that +the wheels would make a terrible clatter in the silent streets at night. +Of course he might go out and walk down to the river first and see if +there was anybody in the way, but even then he could not be sure of +finding no one when he returned with his burden. +</p> +<p> +But there was the cellar, after all. He could go down in the night and +bury his brother's body there. No one ever went down, not even he +himself. Who would suspect the place? It would be a ghastly job, the +chiseller thought. He fancied how it would be in the cold, damp vault +with a lantern—the white face of the murdered man. No, he shrank from +thinking of it. It was too horrible to be thought of until it should be +absolutely necessary. But the place was a good one. +</p> +<p> +And then when Paolo was buried deep under the damp stones, who would be +the first to ask for him? For two or three days no one would be much +surprised if he did not come to the house. Marzio would say that he had +met him in the street, and that Paolo had excused himself for not +coming, on the ground of extreme pressure of work. But the Cardinal, +whom he served as secretary, would ask for the missing man. He would be +the first. The Cardinal would be told that Paolo had not slept at home, +in his lodging high up in the old palace, and he would send at once to +Marzio's house to know where his secretary was. Well, he might send, +Marzio would answer that he did not know, and the matter would end +there. +</p> +<p> +It would be hard to sit calmly at the bench all day with Gianbattista at +his side. He would probably look very often at the iron-bound box. +Gianbattista would notice that, and in time he would grow curious, and +perhaps explore the cellar. It would be a miserable ending to such a +drama to betray himself by his own weakness after it was all done, and +Paolo was gone for ever—a termination unworthy of Marzio, the +strong-minded freethinker. To kill a priest, and then be as nervous and +conscious as a boy in a scrape! The chiseller tried to laugh aloud in +his old way, but the effort was ineffectual, and ended in a painful +twisting of the lips, accompanied by a glance at the corner. It would +not do; he was weak, and was forced to submit to the humiliation of +acknowledging the fact to himself. With a bitter scorn of his +incapacity, he began to wonder whether he could ever get so far as to +kill Paolo in the first instance. He foresaw that if he did kill him, he +could never get rid of him afterwards. +</p> +<p> +Where do people go when they die? The question rose suddenly in the mind +of the unbeliever, and seemed to demand an answer. He had answered often +enough over a pint of wine at the inn, with Gaspare Carnesecchi the +lawyer and the rest of his friends. Nowhere. That was the answer, clear +enough. When a man dies he goes to the ground, as a slaughtered ox to +the butcher's stall, or a dead horse to the knacker's. That is the end +of him, and it is of no use asking any more questions. You might as well +ask what becomes of the pins that are lost by myriads of millions, to +the weight of many tons in a year. You might as well inquire what +becomes of anything that is old, or worn out, or broken. A man is like +anything else, an agglomeration of matter, capable of a few more tricks +than a monkey, and capable of a few less than a priest. He dies, and is +swallowed up by the earth and gives no more trouble. These were the +answers Marzio was accustomed to give to the question, "Where do people +go to when they die?" Hitherto they had satisfied him, as they appear +to satisfy a very small minority of idiots. +</p> +<p> +But what would became of Paolo when Marzio had killed him? Well, in time +his body would become earth, that was all. There was something else, +however. Marzio was conscious to certainty that Paolo would in some way +or other be at his elbow ever afterwards, just as he seemed to feel his +presence this afternoon in the workshop. What sort of presence would it +be? Marzio could not tell, but he knew he should feel it. It did not +matter whether it were real to others or not, it would be too real to +him. He could never get rid of the sensation; it would haunt him and +oppress him for the rest of his life, and he should have no peace. +</p> +<p> +How could it, if it were not a real thing? Even the priests said that +the spirits of dead men did not come back to earth; how much more +impossible must it be in Marzio's view, since he denied that man had a +soul. It would then only be the effect of his imagination recalling +constantly the past deed, and a thing which only existed in imagination +did not exist at all. If it did not exist, it could not be feared by a +sensible man. Consequently there was nothing to fear. +</p> +<p> +The conclusion contradicted the given facts from which he had argued, +and the chiseller was puzzled. For the first time his method of +reasoning did not satisfy him, and he tried to find out the cause. Was +it, he asked to himself, because there lingered in his mind some early +tradition of the wickedness of doing murder? Since there was no soul, +there was no absolute right and wrong, and everything must be decided by +the standard of expediency. It was a mistake to allow people to murder +each other openly, of course, because people of less intellectual +capacity would take upon themselves to judge such cases in their own +way. But provided that public morality, the darling of the real +freethinker, were not scandalised, there would be no inherent wrong in +doing away with Paolo. On the contrary, his death would be a benefit to +the community at large, and an advantage to Marzio in particular. Not a +pecuniary advantage either, for in Marzio's strange system there would +have been an immorality in murdering Paolo for his money if he had ever +had any, though it seemed right enough to kill him for an idea. That is, +to a great extent, the code of those persons who believe in nothing but +what they call great ideas. The individuals who murdered the Czar would +doubtless have scrupled to rob a gentleman in the street of ten francs. +The same reasoning developed itself in Marzio's brain. If his brothel +had been rich, it would have been a crime to murder him for his wealth. +It was no crime to murder him for an idea. Marzio said to himself that +to get rid of Paolo would be to emancipate himself and his family from +the rule and interference of a priest, and that such a proceeding was +only the illustration on a small scale of what he desired for his +country; consequently it was just, and therefore it ought to be done. +</p> +<p> +Unfortunately for his logic, the continuity of his deductions was +blocked by a consideration which he had not anticipated. That +consideration could only be described as fear for the future, and it had +been forcibly thrust upon him by the fright he had received while he was +examining the hole in the floor. In order to neutralise it, Marzio had +tried the experiment of braving what he considered to be a momentary +terror by obstinately studying the details of the plan he intended to +execute. To his surprise he found that he returned to the same +conclusion as before. He came back to that unaccountable fear of the +future as surely as a body thrown upwards falls again to the earth. He +went over it all in his mind again, twice, three times, twenty times. As +often as he reached the stage at which he imagined Paolo dead, hidden, +and buried in a cellar, the same shiver passed through him as he glanced +involuntarily behind him. Why? What power could a dead body possibly +exercise over a living man in the full possession of his senses? +</p> +<p> +Here was something which Marzio could not understand, but of which he +was made aware by his own feelings. The difficulty only increased in +magnitude as he faced it, considered it, and tried to view it from all +its horrible aspects. But he could not overcome it. He might laugh at +the existence of the soul and jest about the future state after death; +he could not escape from the future in this life if he did the deed he +contemplated. He should see the dead man's face by day and night as long +as he lived. +</p> +<p> +This forced conclusion was in logical accordance with his original +nature and developed character, for it was the result of that +economical, cautious disposition which foresees the consequences of +action and guides itself accordingly. Even in the moment when he had +nearly killed Paolo that morning he had not been free from this +tendency. In the instant when he had raised the tool to strike he had +thought of the means of disposing of the body and of hindering +suspicion. The panorama of coming circumstances had presented itself to +his mind with the rapidity of a flash of lightning, but in that +infinitesimal duration of time Paolo had turned round, and the +opportunity was gone. His mind had worked quickly, but it had not gone +to the end of its reasoning. Now in the solitude of his studio he had +found leisure to follow out the results to the last link of the chain. +He saw clearly that even if he eluded discovery after the crime, he +could never escape from the horror of his dead brother's presence. +</p> +<p> +He laid the silver figure of the Christ straight before him upon the +leathern pad, and looked intently at it, while his hands played idly +with the tools upon the table. His deep-set, heavy eyes gazed fixedly at +the wonderful face, with an expression which had not yet been there. +There was no longer any smile upon his thin lips, and his dark emaciated +features were restful and quiet, almost solemn in their repose. +</p> +<p> +"I am glad I did not do it," he said aloud after some minutes. +</p> +<p> +Still he gazed at his work, and the impression stole over him that but +for a slight thing he might yet have killed his brother. If he had left +the figure more securely propped upon the pad, it could not have slipped +upon the bench; it could not have made that small distinct sound just as +he was examining the place which was to have been his brother's grave; +he would not have been suddenly frightened; he would not have gone over +the matter in his mind as he had done, from the point of view of a +future fear; he would have waited anxiously for another opportunity, and +when it presented itself he would have struck the blow, and Paolo would +have been dead, if not to-day, to-morrow. There would have been a search +which might or might not have resulted in the discovery of the body. +Then there would have been, the heartrending grief of his wife, of +Lucia, and the black suspicious looks of Gianbattista. The young man had +heard him express a wish that Paolo might disappear. His home would have +been a hell, instead of being emancipated from tyranny as he had at +first imagined. Discovery and conviction would have come at last, the +galleys for life for himself, dishonour and contempt for his family. +</p> +<p> +He remembered Paolo's words as he stood contemplating the crucifix just +before that moment which had nearly been his last. <i>Qui propter nos +homines et propter nostram salutem</i>—"Who for us men and for our +salvation came down from Heaven." In a strange revulsion of feeling +Marzio applied the words to himself, with an odd simplicity that was at +once pathetic and startling. +</p> +<p> +"If Christ had not died," he said to himself, "I should not have made +this crucifix. If I had not made it, it would not have frightened me. I +should have killed my brother. It has saved me. 'For us men and for our +salvation'—those are the words—for my salvation, it is very strange. +Poor Paolo! If he knew to what he owed his life he would be pleased. Who +can believe such things? Who would have believed this if I had told it? +And yet it is true." +</p> +<p> +For some minutes still he gazed at the figure. Then he shook himself as +though to rouse his mind from a trance, and took up his tools. He did +not glance behind him again, and, for the time at least, his nervous +dislike of the box in the corner seemed to have ceased. He laboured with +patient care, touching and re-touching, believing that each tap of the +hammer should be the last, and yet not wholly satisfied. +</p> +<p> +The light waned, and he took down the curtain to admit the last glows of +the evening. He could do no more, art itself could have done no more to +beautify and perfect the masterpiece that lay upon the cushion before +him. The many hours he had spent in putting the last finish upon the +work had produced their result. His hand had imparted something to the +features of the dying head which had not been there before, and as he +stood over the bench he knew that he had surpassed his greatest work. He +went and fetched the black cross from the shelf, and polished its smooth +surface carefully with a piece of silk. Then he took the figure tenderly +in his hands and laid it in its position. The small screws turned evenly +in the threads, fitting closely into their well-concealed places, and +the work was finished. Marzio placed the whole crucifix upon the bench +and sat down to look at it. +</p> +<p> +It made a strong impression upon him, this thing of his own hands, and +again he remained a long time resting his chin upon his folded fingers +and gazing up at the drooping lids. The shadows lay softly on the +modelled silver, so softly that the metal itself seemed to tremble and +move, and in his reverie Marzio could almost have expected the divine +eyes to open and look into his face. And gradually the shadows deepened +more and more, and gathered into gloom till in the dark the black arms +of the cross scarcely stood out from the darkness, and in the last +lingering twilight he could see only the clear outline of the white head +and outstretched hands, that seemed to emit a soft radiance gathered +from the brightness of the departed day. +</p> +<p> +Marzio struck a match and lit his lamp. His thoughts were so wholly +absorbed that he had not remembered the workmen, nor wondered why they +had not come back. After all, most of them lived in the direction of the +church, and if they had finished their work late they would very +probably go home without returning to the shop. The chiseller wrapped +the crucifix in the old white cloth, and laid it in its plain wooden +box, but he did not screw the cover down, merely putting it on loosely +so that it could be removed in a moment. He laid his tools in order, +mechanically, as he did every evening, and then he extinguished the +light and made his way to the door, carrying the box under his arm. +</p> +<p> +The boy who alone had remained at work had lighted a tallow candle, and +was sitting dangling his heels from his stool as Marzio came out. +</p> +<p> +"Still here!" exclaimed the artist. +</p> +<p> +"Eh! You did not tell me to go," answered the lad. +</p> +<p> +Marzio locked the heavy outer door and crossed over to his house, while +the boy went whistling down the street in the dusk. Slowly the artist +mounted the stairs, pondering, as he went, on the many emotions of the +day, and at last repeating his conclusion, that he was glad that he had +not killed Paolo. +</p> +<p> +By a change of feeling which he did not wholly realise, he felt for the +first time in many years that he would be glad to see his brother alive +and well. He had that day so often fancied him dead, lying on the floor +of the workshop, or buried in a dark corner of the cellar, that the idea +of meeting him, calm and well as ever, had something refreshing in it. +It was like the waking from a hideous dream of evil to find that the +harm is still undone, to experience that sense of unutterable relief +which every one knows when the dawn suddenly touches the outlines of +familiar objects in the room, and dispels in an instant the visions of +the night. +</p> +<p> +Paolo might not come that evening, but at least Maria Luisa and Lucia +would speak of him, and it would be a comfort to hear his name spoken +aloud. Marzio's step quickened with the thought, and in another moment +he was at the door. To his surprise it was opened before he could ring, +and old Assunta came forward with her wrinkled fingers raised to her +lips. +</p> +<p> +"Hist! hist!" she whispered. "It goes a little better—or at least—" +</p> +<p> +"What? Who?" asked Marzio, instinctively whispering also. +</p> +<p> +"Eh! You have not heard? Don Paolo—they have killed him!" +</p> +<p> +"Paolo!" exclaimed Marzio, staggering and leaning against the door-post. +</p> +<p> +"He is not dead—not dead yet at least," went on the old woman in low, +excited tones. "He was in the church with Tista—a ladder—" +</p> +<p> +Marzio did not stop to hear more, but pushed past Assunta with his +burden under his arm, and entered the passage. The door at the end was +open, and he saw his wife standing in the bright light in the +sitting-room, anxiously looking towards him as though she had heard his +coming. +</p> +<p> +"For God's sake, Gigia," he said, addressing her by her old pet name, +"tell me quickly what has happened!" +</p> +<p> +The Signora Pandolfi explained as well as she could, frequently giving +way to her grief in passionate sobs. She was incoherent, but the facts +were so simple that Marzio understood them. He was standing by the +table, his hand resting upon the wooden case he had brought, and his +face was very pale. +</p> +<p> +"Let me understand," he said at last. "Tista was on the ladder. The +ladder slipped, Paolo ran to catch it, and it fell on him. He is badly +hurt, but not dead; is that it, Gigia?" +</p> +<p> +Maria Luisa nodded in the midst of a fit of weeping. +</p> +<p> +"The surgeon has been, you say? Yes. And where is Paolo lying?" +</p> +<p> +"In Tista's room," sobbed his wife. "They are with him now." +</p> +<p> +Marzio stood still and hesitated. He was under the influence of the most +violent emotion, and his face betrayed something of what he felt. The +idea of Paolo's death had played a tremendous part in his thoughts +during the whole day, and he had firmly believed that he had got rid of +that idea, and was to realise in meeting his brother that it had all +been a dream. The news he now heard filled him with horror. It seemed as +if the intense wish for Paolo's death had in some way produced a +material result without his knowledge; it was as though he had killed +his brother by a thought—as though he had had a real share in his +death. +</p> +<p> +He could hardly bear to go and see the wounded man, so strong was the +impression that gained possession of him. His fancy called up pictures +of Paolo lying wounded in bed, and he dreaded to face the sight. He +turned away from the table and began to walk up and down the little +room. In a corner his foot struck against something—the drawing board +on which he had begun to sketch the night before. Marzio took it up and +brought it to the light. Maria Luisa stared at him sorrowfully, as +though reproaching him with indifference in the general calamity. But +Marzio looked intently at the drawing. It was only a sketch, but it was +very beautifully done. He saw that his ideal was still the same, and +that upon the piece of paper he had only reproduced the features he had +chiselled ten years ago, with an added beauty of expression, with just +those additions which to-day he had made upon the original. The moment +he was sure of the fact he laid aside the board and opened the wooden +case. +</p> +<p> +Maria Luisa, who was very far from guessing what an intimate connection +existed between the crucifix and Paolo in her husband's mind, looked on +with increasing astonishment as he took out the beautiful object and Bet +it upon the table in the light. But when she saw it her admiration +overcame her sorrow for one moment. +</p> +<p> +"<i>Dio mio!</i> What a miracle!" she exclaimed. +</p> +<p> +"A miracle?" repeated her husband, with a strange expression. "Who +knows? Perhaps!" +</p> +<p> +At that moment Gianbattista and Lucia entered through the open door, and +stood together watching the scene without understanding what was +passing. The young girl recognised the crucifix at once. She supposed +that her father did not realise Paolo's condition, and was merely +showing the masterpiece to her mother. +</p> +<p> +"That is the one I saw," she whispered to Gianbattista. The young man +said nothing, but fixed his eyes upon the cross. +</p> +<p> +"Papa," said Lucia timidly, "do you know?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes. Is he alone?" asked Marzio in a tone which was not like his own. +</p> +<p> +"There is Assunta," answered the young girl. +</p> +<p> +"I will go to him," said the artist, and without further words he lifted +the crucifix from the table and went out. His face was very grave, and +his features had something in them that none of the three had seen +before—something almost of grandeur. Gianbattista and Lucia followed +him. +</p> +<p> +"I will be alone with him," said Marzio, looking back at the pair as he +reached the door of the sick chamber. He entered and a moment afterwards +old Assunta came out and shuffled away, holding her apron to her eyes. +</p> +<p> +Marzio went in. There was a small shaded lamp on the deal table, which +illuminated the room with a soft light. Marzio felt that he could not +trust himself at first to look at his brother's face. He set the +crucifix upon the old chest of drawers, and put the lamp near it. Then +he remained standing before it with his back to the bed, and his hands +in the pockets of his blouse. He could hear the regular breathing which +told that Paolo was still alive. For a long time he could not turn +round; it was as though an unseen power held him motionless in his +position. He looked at the crucifix. +</p> +<p> +"If he wakes," he thought, "he will see it. It will comfort him if he is +going to die!" +</p> +<p> +With his back still turned towards the bed, he moved to one side, until +he thought that Paolo could see what he had brought, if consciousness +returned. Very slowly, as though fearing some horrible sight, he changed +his position and looked timidly in the direction of the sick man. At +last he saw the pale upturned face, and was amazed that such an accident +should have produced so little change in the features. He came and stood +beside the bed. +</p> +<p> +Paolo had not moved since the surgeon had left; he was lying on his +back, propped by pillows so that his face was towards the light. He was +pale now, for the flush that had been in his cheeks had subsided; his +eyelids, which had been half open, had dropped and closed, so that he +seemed to be sleeping peacefully, ready to wake at the slightest sound. +</p> +<p> +Marzio stood and looked at him. This was the man he had hated through so +many years of boyhood and manhood—the man who had faced him and opposed +him at every step—who had stood up boldly before him in his own house +to defend what he believed to be right. This was Paolo, whom he had +nearly killed that morning. Marzio's right hand felt the iron tool in +the pocket of his blouse, and his fingers trembled as he touched it, +while his long arms twitched nervously from the shoulder to the elbow. +He took it out, looked at it, and at the sick man's face. He asked +himself whether he could think of using it as he had meant to, and then +he let it fall upon the bit of green drugget by the bedside. +</p> +<p> +That was Paolo—it would not need any sharpened weapon to kill him now. +A little pressure on the throat, a pillow held over his face for a few +moments, and it would all be over. And what for? To be pursued for ever +by that same white face? No. It was not worth while, it had never been +worth while, even were that all. But there was something else to be +considered. Paolo might now die of his accident, in his bed. There would +be no murder done in that case, no haunting horror of a presence, no +discovery to be feared, since there would have been no evil. Let him +die, if he was dying! +</p> +<p> +But that was not all either. What would it be when Paolo should be dead? +Well, he had his ideas, of course. They were mistaken ideas. Were they? +Perhaps, who could tell? But he was not a bad man, this Paolo. He had +never tried to wring money out of Marzio, as some people did. On the +contrary, Marzio still felt a sense of humiliation when he thought how +much he owed to the kindness of this man, his brother, lying here +injured to death, and powerless to help himself or to save himself. +Powerless? yes—utterly so. How easy it would be, after all, to press a +pillow on the unconscious face. There would probably not even be a +struggle. Who should save him, or who could know of it? And yet Marzio +did not want to do it, as he had wished to a few hours ago. As he looked +down on the pale head he realised that he did not want Paolo to die. +Standing on the sharp edge of the precipice where life ends and breaks +off, close upon the unfathomable depths of eternity, himself firmly +standing and fearing no fall, but seeing his brother slipping over the +brink, he would put out his hand to save him, to draw him back. He would +not have Paolo die. +</p> +<p> +He gazed upon the calm features, and he knew that he feared lest they +should be still for ever. The breath came more softly, more and more +faintly. Marzio thought. He bent down low and tried to feel the warm +air as it issued from the lips. His fears grew to terror as the life +seemed to ebb away from the white face. In the agony of his +apprehension, Marzio inadvertently laid his hand upon the injured +shoulder, unconsciously pressing his weight upon the place. +</p> +<p> +With a faint sigh the priest's eyes opened and seemed to gaze for a +moment on the crucifix standing in the bright light of the lamp. An +expression of wonderful gentleness and calm overspread the refined +features. +</p> +<p> +"<i>Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de +coelis</i>." +</p> +<p> +The words came faintly from the dying man's lips, the last syllables +scarcely audible in the intense stillness. A deathly pallor crept +quickly over the smooth forehead and thin cheeks. Marzio looked for one +instant more, and then with a loud cry fell upon his knees by the +bedside, his long arms extended across his brother's body. The strong +hot tears fell upon the bed coverings, and his breast heaved with +passionate sobbing. +</p> +<p> +He did not see that Paolo opened his eyes at the sound. He did not +notice the rush of feet in the passage without, as Maria Luisa and Lucia +and Gianbattista ran to the door, followed by old Assunta holding up her +apron to her eyes. +</p> +<p> +"Courage, Sor Marzio," said Gianbattista, drawing the artist back from +the bed. "You will disturb him. Do you not see that he is conscious at +last?" +</p> +<p> +Lucia was arranging the pillows under Paolo's head, and Maria Luisa was +crying with joy. Marzio sprang to his feet and stared as though he could +not believe what he saw. Paolo turned his head and looked kindly at his +brother. +</p> +<p> +"Courage, Marzio," he said, "I have been asleep, I believe—what has +happened to me? Why are you all crying?" +</p> +<p> +Marzio's tears broke out again, mingled with incoherent words of joy. In +his sudden happiness he clasped the two persons nearest to him, and +hugged them and kissed them. These two chanced to be Lucia and +Gianbattista. Paolo smiled, but the effort of speaking had tired him. +</p> +<p> +"Well," said Marzio at last, with a kinder smile than had been on his +face for many a day—"very well, children. For Paolo's sake you shall +have your own way." +</p> +<p> +Half an hour later the surgeon made his visit and assured them all that +there was no serious injury, nor any further danger to be feared. The +patient had been very badly stunned, that was all. Marzio remained by +his brother's side. +</p> +<p> +"You see, Tista," said Lucia when they were in the sitting-room, "I was +quite right about the crucifix and the rest." +</p> +<p> +"Of course," assented the Signora Pandolfi, though she did not +understand the allusion in the least. "Of course you are all of you +right. But what a day this has been, <i>cari miei</i>! What a day! Dear, +dear!" She spread out her fat hands upon her knees, looking the picture +of solid contentment. +</p> +<h2> +THE END +</h2> +<hr /> +<a name="h2H_4_0014" id="h2H_4_0014"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h1> + ZOROASTER +</h1> +<h3> + TO +<br /> +My Beloved Wife +<br /> +I DEDICATE THIS DRAMA +</h3> +<a name="h2H_4_0015" id="h2H_4_0015"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + +<hr /> + +<h1> + ZOROASTER. +</h1> +<a name="h2HCH0012" id="h2HCH0012"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER I. +</h2> +<p> +The hall of the banquets was made ready for the feast in the palace of +Babylon. That night Belshazzar the king would drink wine with a thousand +of his lords, and be merry before them; and everything was made ready. +</p> +<p> +From end to end of the mighty nave, the tables of wood, overlaid with +gold and silver, stood spread with those things which the heart of man +can desire; with cups of gold and of glass and of jade; with great +dishes heaped high with rare fruits and rarer flowers; and over all, the +last purple rays of the great southern sun came floating through the +open colonnades of the porch, glancing on the polished marbles, tingeing +with a softer hue the smooth red plaster of the walls, and lingering +lovingly on the golden features and the red-gold draperies of the vast +statue that sat on high and overlooked the scene. +</p> +<p> +On his head the head-dress of thrice royal supremacy, in his right hand +and his left the sceptre of power and the winged wheel of immortality +and life, beneath his feet the bowed necks of prostrate captives;—so +sat the kingly presence of great Nebuchadnezzar, as waiting to see what +should come to pass upon his son; and the perfume of the flowers and the +fruits and the rich wine came up to his mighty nostrils, and he seemed +to smile there in the evening sunlight, half in satisfaction, half in +scorn. +</p> +<p> +On each side of the great building, in the aisles and wings, among the +polished pillars of marble thronged the serving-men, bearing ever fresh +spices and flowers and fruits, wherewith to deck the feast, whispering +together in a dozen Indian, Persian and Egyptian dialects, or in the +rich speech of those nobler captives whose pale faces and eagle eyes +stood forth everywhere in strong contrast with the coarser features and +duskier skins of their fellows in servitude,—the race not born to +dominate, but born to endure even to the end. These all mingled together +in the strange and broken reflections of the evening light, and here and +there the purple dye of the sun tinged the white tunic of some poor +slave to as fair a colour as a king's son might wear. +</p> +<p> +On this side and on that of the tables that were spread for the feast, +stood great candlesticks, as tall as the height of two men, tapering +from the thickness and heavy carving below to the fineness and delicate +tracery above, and bearing upon them cups of bronze, each having its +wick steeped in fine oil mixed with wax. Moreover, in the midst of the +hall, where the seat of the king was put upon a raised floor, the +pillars stood apart for a space, so that there was a chamber, as it +were, from the wall on the right to the wall on the left, roofed with +great carved rafters; and the colour of the walls was red,—a deep and +glorious red that seemed to make of the smooth plaster a sheet of +precious marble. Beyond, beneath the pillars, the panels of the aisles +were pictured and made many-coloured with the story of Nebuchadnezzar +the king, his conquests and his feasts, his captives and his courtiers, +in endless train upon the splendid wall. But where the king should sit +in the midst of the hall there were neither pillars nor paintings; only +the broad blaze of the royal colour, rich and even. Beside the table +also stood a great lamp, taller and more cunningly wrought than the +rest,—the foot of rare marble and chiselled bronze and the lamp above +of pure gold from southern Ophir. But it was not yet kindled, for the +sun was not set and the hour for the feast was not fully come. +</p> +<p> +At the upper end of the hall, before the gigantic statue of wrought +gold, there was an open space, unencumbered by tables, where the smooth, +polished marble floor came to view in all its rich design and colour. +Two persons, entering the hall with slow steps, came to this place and +stood together, looking up at the face of the golden king. +</p> +<p> +Between the two there was the gulf of a lifetime. The one was already +beyond the common limit of age, while he who stood beside him was but a +fair boy of fourteen summers. +</p> +<p> +The old man was erect still, and his snowy hair and beard grew like a +lion's mane about his massive brow and masterful face. The deep lines of +thought, graven deeper by age, followed the noble shaping of his brows +in even course, and his dark eyes still shot fire, as piercing the +bleared thickness of time to gaze boldly on the eternity beyond. His +left hand gathered the folds of a snow-white robe around him, while in +his right he grasped a straight staff of ebony and ivory, of fine +workmanship, marvellously polished, whereon were wrought strange sayings +in the Israelitish manner of writing. The old man stood up to his noble +height, and looked from the burnished face of the king's image to the +eyes of the boy beside him, in silence, as though urging his young +companion to speak for him the thoughts that filled the hearts of both. +</p> +<p> +The youth spoke not, nor gave any sign, but stood with folded hands and +gazed up to the great features of Nebuchadnezzar. +</p> +<p> +He was but fourteen years of age, tall and delicately made, full of the +promise of a graceful and elastic power, fine of skin, and instinct with +the nervous strength of a noble and untainted race. His face was fair +and white, tinged with faint colour, and his heavy golden hair fell in +long curls upon his shoulders, thick and soft with the silken fineness +of early youth. His delicate features were straight and noble, northern +rather than Oriental in their type—supremely calm and thoughtful, +almost godlike in their young restfulness. The deep blue eyes were +turned upward with a touch of sadness, but the broad forehead was as +marble, and the straight marking of the brows bounded it and divided it +from the face. He wore the straight white tunic, edged about with fine +embroideries of gold and gathered at the waist with a rich belt, while +his legs were covered with wide Persian trousers wrought in many colours +of silk upon fine linen. He wore also a small cap of linen, stiffened +to a point and worked with a cunning design in gold and silver. But the +old man's head was covered only by the thick masses of his snowy hair, +and his wide white mantle hid the details of his dress from view. +</p> +<p> +Again he glanced from the statue to his companion's eyes, and at last he +spoke, in a deep smooth voice, in the Hebrew tongue. +</p> +<p> +"Nebuchadnezzar the king is gathered to his fathers, and his son also, +and Nabonnedon Belshazzar reigns in his stead, yet have I endured to +this day, in Babylon, these threescore and seven years, since +Nebuchadnezzar the king destroyed our place upon the earth and led us +away captive. Unto this day, Zoroaster, have I endured, and yet a little +longer shall I stand and bear witness for Israel." +</p> +<p> +The old man's eyes flashed, and his strong aquiline features assumed an +expression of intense vitality and life. Zoroaster turned to him and +spoke softly, almost sadly: +</p> +<p> +"Say, O Daniel, prophet and priest of the Lord, why does the golden +image seem to smile to-day? Are the times accomplished of thy vision +which thou sawest in Shushan, in the palace, and is the dead king glad? +I think his face was never so gentle before to look upon,—surely he +rejoices at the feast, and the countenance of his image is gladdened." +</p> +<p> +"Nay, rather then should his face be sorrowful for the destruction of +his seed and of his kingdom," answered the prophet somewhat scornfully. +"Verily the end is at hand, and the stones of Babylon shall no longer +cry out for the burden of the sins of Belshazzar, and the people call +upon Bel to restore unto life the King Nebuchadnezzar; nay, or to send +hither a Persian or a Mede to be a just ruler in the land." +</p> +<p> +"Hast thou read it in the stars, or have thine eyes seen these things in +the visions of the night, my master?" The boy came nearer to the aged +prophet and spoke in low earnest tones. But Daniel only bent his head, +till his brow touched his ebony staff, and so he remained, deep in +thought. +</p> +<p> +"For I also have dreamed,"—continued Zoroaster, after a short +pause,—"and my dream took hold of me, and I am sorry and full of great +weariness. Now this is the manner of my dreaming." He stopped and +glanced down the great nave of the hall through the open porch at the +other end. The full glory of the red sun, just touching the western +plain, streamed upon his face and made the tables, the preparations and +the crowd of busy serving-men look like black shadows between him and +the light. But Daniel leaned upon his staff and spoke no word, nor moved +from his position. +</p> +<p> +"I saw in my dream," said Zoroaster, "and there was darkness; and upon +the winds of the night arose the sound of war, and the cry and the clash +of battle, mighty men striving one with another for the mastery and the +victory, which should be to the stronger. And I saw again, and behold it +was morning, and the people were led away captive, by tens, and by +hundreds, and by thousands, and the maidens also and young women into a +far country. And I looked, and the face of one of the maidens was as the +face of the fairest among the daughters of thy people. Then my heart +yearned for her, and I would have followed after into the captivity; but +darkness came upon me, and I saw her no more. Therefore am I troubled +and go heavily all the day." +</p> +<p> +He ceased and the cadence of the boy's voice trembled and was sad. The +sun set out of sight beneath the plain, and from far off a great sound +of music came in upon the evening breeze. +</p> +<p> +Daniel raised his snowy head and gazed keenly on his young companion, +and there was disappointment in his look. +</p> +<p> +"Wouldst thou be a prophet?" he asked, "thou that dreamest of fair +maidens and art disquieted for the love of a woman? Thinkest thou, boy, +that a woman shall help thee when thou art grown to be a man, or that +the word of the Lord dwelleth in vanity? Prophesy, and interpret thy +vision, if so be that thou art able to interpret it. Come, let us +depart, for the king is at hand, and the night shall be given over for a +space to the rioters and the mirth-makers, with whom our portion is not. +Verily I also have dreamed a dream. Let us depart." +</p> +<p> +The venerable prophet stood up to his height, and grasping his staff in +his right hand, began to lead the way from the hall. Zoroaster laid hold +of him by the arm, as though entreating him to remain. +</p> +<p> +"Speak, master," he cried earnestly, "and declare to me thy dream, and +see whether it accords with mine, and whether there shall be darkness +and rumour of war in the land." +</p> +<p> +But Daniel the prophet would not stay to speak, but went out of the +hall, and Zoroaster the Persian youth went with him, pondering deeply on +the present and on the future, and on the nature of the vision he had +seen; and made fearful by the silence of his friend and teacher. +</p> +<p> +The darkness fell upon the twilight, and within the hall the lamps and +candlesticks were kindled and gave out warm light and rare perfumes. All +down the endless rows of tables, the preparations for the feast were +ready; and from the gardens without, strains of music came up ever +stronger and nearer, so that the winged sounds seemed to come into the +vast building and hover above the tables and seats of honour, preparing +the way for the guests. Nearer and nearer came the harps and the pipes +and the trumpets and the heavy reed-toned bagpipes, and above all the +strong rich chorus of the singers chanting high the evening hymn of +praise to Bel, god of sunlight, honoured in his departing, as in his +coming, with the music of the youngest and most tuneful voices in +Shinar. +</p> +<p> +First came the priests of Bel, two and two, robed in their white tunics, +loose white garments on their legs, the white mitre of the priestly +order on their heads, and their great beards curled smooth and glossy as +silk. In their midst, with stately dignity, walked their chief, his eyes +upon the ground, his hands crossed upon his breast, his face like dark +marble in the twilight. On either side, those who had officiated at the +sacrifice, bore the implements of their service,—the knife, the axe, +the cord, and the fire in its dish; and their hands were red with the +blood of the victim lately slain. Grand, great men, mighty of body and +broad of brow, were these priests of Bel,—strong with the meat and the +wine of the offerings that were their daily portion, and confident in +the faith of their ancient wisdom. +</p> +<p> +After the priests the musicians, one hundred chosen men of skill, making +strange deep harmonies in a noble and measured rhythm, marching ten and +ten abreast, in ten ranks; and as they came on, the light streaming from +the porch of the palace caught their silver ornaments and the strange +shapes of their instruments in broken reflections between the twilight +and the glare of the lamps. +</p> +<p> +Behind these came the singers,—of young boys two hundred, of youths a +hundred, and of bearded men also a hundred; the most famous of all that +sang praises to Bel in the land of Assur. Ten and ten they marched, with +ordered ranks and step in time to the massive beat of the long-drawn +measure. +</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Mighty to rule the day, great in his glory and the + pride of his heat,</p> +<p>Shooting great bolts of light into the dark earth, + turning death into life,</p> +<p>Making the seed to grow, strongly and fairly, high + in furrow and field,</p> +<p>Making the heart of man glad with his gladness, + rideth over the dawn</p> +<p class="i4">Bel, the prince, the king of kings.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> + "Hotly his flaming hair, streaming with brightness, + and the locks of his beard</p> +<p>Curl'd into clouds of heat, sweeping the heavens, + spread all over the sky:</p> +<p>Who shall abide his face, fearful and deadly, when + he devours the land,</p> +<p>Angry with man and beast, horribly raging, hungry + for sacrifice? </p> +<p class="i4">Bel, the prince, the king of kings.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> "Striding his three great strides, out of the morning + through the noon to the night,</p> +<p>Cometh he down at last, ready for feasting, ready + for sacrifice:</p> +<p>Then doth he tread the wine, purple and golden, + foaming deep in the west;</p> +<p>Shinar is spread for him, spread as a table, Assur + shall be his seat:</p> +<p class="i4">Bel, the prince, the king of kings.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> "Bring him the fresh-slain flesh, roast it with fire, + with the savour of salt,</p> +<p>Pour him the strength of wine, chalice and goblet, + trodden for him alone:</p> +<p>Raise him the song of songs, cry out in praises, cry + out and supplicate</p> +<p>That he may drink delight, tasting our off'ring, hearing + our evening song:</p> +<p class="i4">Bel, the prince, the king of kings.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> + "So, in the gentle night, when he is resting, + peace descendeth on earth;</p> +<p>High in the firmament, where his steps led him, + gleam the tracks of his way:</p> +<p>Where the day felt his touch, there the night also + breaketh forth into stars,</p> +<p>These are the flowers of heaven, garlands of blossoms, + growing to weave his crown:</p> +<p class="i4">Bel, the prince, the king of kings.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> + "Hail! thou king of the earth, hail! Belteshazzar, + hail! and for ever live!</p> +<p>Born of the gods on high, prince of the nations, + ruling over the world:</p> +<p>Thou art the son of Bel, full of his glory, king over + death and life;</p> +<p>Let all the people bow, tremble and worship, bow + them down and adore</p> +<p class="i4">The prince of Bel, the king of kings."</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> +As the musicians played and the singers sang, they divided their ranks +and came and stood on each side of the broad marble staircase; and the +priests had done so before them, but the chief priest stood alone on the +lowest step. +</p> +<p> +Then, between the files of those who stood, advanced the royal +procession, like a river of gold and purple and precious stones flowing +between banks of pure white. Ten and ten, a thousand lords of Babylon +marched in stately throng, and in their midst rode Belshazzar the king, +high upon his coal-black steed, crowned with the great tiara of white +linen and gold and jewels, the golden sceptre of the kingdom in his +right hand. And after the lords and the king came a long procession of +litters borne by stalwart slaves, wherein reclined the fairest women of +all Assyria, bidden to the great feast. Last of all, the spearmen of +the guard in armour all chased with gold, their mantles embroidered with +the royal cognisance, and their beards trimmed and curled in the close +soldier fashion, brought up the rear; a goodly company of men of war. +</p> +<p> +As the rich voices of the singers intoned the grand plain chant of the +last stanza in the hymn, the king was in the middle of the open space at +the foot of the staircase; there he drew rein and sat motionless on his +horse, awaiting the end. As the ripe corn bends in its furrows to the +wind, so the royal host around turned to the monarch, and fell upon +their faces as the music died away at the signal of the high priest. +With one consent the lords, the priests, the singers and the spearmen +bowed and prostrated themselves on the ground; the bearers of the +litters set down their burden while they did homage; and each of those +beautiful women bent far forward, kneeling in her litter, and hid her +head beneath her veil. +</p> +<p> +Only the king sat erect and motionless upon his steed, in the midst of +the adoring throng. The light from the palace played strangely on his +face, making the sneering smile more scornful upon his pale lips, and +shading his sunken eyes with a darker shadow. +</p> +<p> +While you might count a score there was silence, and the faint evening +breeze wafted the sweet smell of the roses from the gardens to the +king's nostrils, as though even the earth would bring incense of +adoration to acknowledge his tremendous power. +</p> +<p> +Then the host rose again and fell back on either side while the king +rode to the staircase and dismounted, leading the way to the banquet; +and the high priest followed him and all the ranks of the lords and +princes and the ladies of Babylon, in their beauty and magnificence, +went up the marble steps and under the marble porch, spreading then like +a river, about the endless tables, almost to the feet of the golden +image of Nebuchadnezzar. And presently, from beneath the colonnades a +sound of sweet music stole out again and filled the air; the serving-men +hurried hither and thither, the black slaves plied their palm-leaf fans +behind each guest, and the banquet was begun. +</p> +<p> +Surely, a most glorious feast, wherein the hearts of the courtiers waxed +merry, and the dark eyes of the Assyrian women shot glances sweeter than +the sweetmeats of Egypt and stronger than the wine of the south to move +the spirit of man. Even the dark king, wasted and hollow-eyed with too +much pleasure-seeking, smiled and laughed,—sourly enough at first, it +is true, but in time growing careless and merry by reason of his deep +draughts. His hand trembled less weakly as the wine gave him back his +lost strength, and more than once his fingers toyed playfully with the +raven locks and the heavy earrings of the magnificent princess at his +elbow. Some word of hers roused a thought in his whirling brain. +</p> +<p> +"Is not this day the feast of victories?" he cried in sudden animation; +and there was silence to catch the king's words. "Is not this the day +wherein my sire brought home the wealth of the Israelites, kept holy +with feasting for ever? Bring me the vessels of the unbelievers' temple, +that I may drink and pour out wine this night to Bel, the god of gods!" +</p> +<p> +The keeper of the treasure had anticipated the king's desire and had +caused everything to be made ready; for scarcely had Belshazzar spoken +when a long train of serving-men entered the hall of the banquet and +came and stood before the royal presence, their white garments and the +rich vessels they bore aloft standing vividly out against the deep even +red of the opposite wall. +</p> +<p> +"Let the vessels be distributed among us," cried the king,—"to every +man a cup or a goblet till all are served." +</p> +<p> +And so it was done, and the royal cup-bearer came and filled the huge +chalice that the king held, and the serving-men hastened to fill all the +cups and the small basins; while the lords and princes laughed at the +strange shapes, and eyed greedily enough the thickness and the good +workmanship of the gold and silver. And so each man and each woman had a +vessel from the temple of Jerusalem wherein to drink to the glory of Bel +the god and of Belshazzar his prince. And when all was ready, the king +took his chalice in his two hands and stood up, and all that company of +courtiers stood up with him, while a mighty strain of music burst +through the perfumed air, and the serving-men showered flowers and +sprinkled sweet odours on the tables. +</p> +<p> +Without stood the Angel of Death, whetting his sword upon the stones of +Babylon. But Belshazzar held the chalice and spoke with a loud voice to +the princes and the lords and the fair women that stood about the tables +in the great hall: +</p> +<p> +"I, Belshazzar the king, standing in the hall of my fathers, do pour +and drink this wine to the mighty majesty of Bel the great god, who +lives for ever and ever; before whom the gods of the north and of the +west and of the east and of the south are as the sand of the desert in +the blast; at whose sight the vain deities of Egypt crumbled into +pieces, and the God of the Israelites trembled and was made little in +the days of Nebuchadnezzar my sire. And I command you, lords and princes +of Babylon, you and your wives and your fair women, that ye also do pour +wine and drink it, doing this homage to Bel our god, and to me, +Belshazzar the king." +</p> +<p> +And so saying, he turned about to one side and spilled a few drops of +wine upon the marble floor, and set the cup to his lips, facing the +great throng of his guests; and he drank. But from all the banquet went +up a great shout. +</p> +<p> +"Hail! king, live for ever! Hail! prince of Bel, live for ever! Hail! +king of kings, live for ever!" Long and loud was the cry, ringing and +surging through the pillars and up to the great carved rafters till the +very walls seemed to rock and tremble with the din of the king's praise. +</p> +<p> +Slowly Belshazzar drained the cup to the dregs, while with half-closed +eyes he listened to the uproar, and perhaps sneered to himself behind +the chalice, as was his wont. Then he set the vessel down and looked up. +But as he looked he staggered and turned pale, and would have fallen; he +grasped the ivory chair behind him and stood trembling in every joint, +and his knees knocking together, while his eyes seemed starting from +his head, and all his face was changed and distorted with dreadful fear. +</p> +<p> +Upon the red plaster of the wall, over against the candlestick which +shed its strong rays upon the fearful sight, the fingers of a vast hand +moved and traced letters. Only the fingers could be seen, colossal and +of dazzling brightness, and as they slowly did their work, huge +characters of fire blazed out upon the dark red surface, and their +lambent angry flame dazzled those who beheld, and the terror of terrors +fell upon all the great throng; for they stood before Him whose shadow +is immortality and death. +</p> +<p> +In a silence that could be felt, the dread hand completed its message +and vanished out of sight, but the strange fire burned bright in the +horrid characters of the writing that remained upon the wall. +</p> +<p> +This was the inscription in Chaldean letters: +</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i3"> SUTMM </p> +<p class="i3"> IPKNN </p> +<p class="i3"> NRLAA </p> +</div> +</div> + +<p> +Then at last the king found speech and shrieked aloud wildly, and he +commanded that they should bring in all the astrologers, the Chaldeans +and the diviners, for he was in great terror and he dreaded some fearful +and imminent catastrophe. +</p> +<p> +"Whoever shall read this writing," he cried, his voice changed and +broken, "and declare to me the meaning of it, shall be clothed in +purple, and shall have a chain of gold about his neck and shall rule as +the third in the kingdom." +</p> +<p> +Amidst the mighty confusion of fear, the wise men were brought in before +the king. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0013" id="h2HCH0013"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER II. +</h2> +<p> +In Ecbatana of Media Daniel dwelt in his extreme old age. There he built +himself a tower within the seven-fold walls of the royal fortress, upon +the summit of the hill, looking northward towards the forests of the +mountains, and southward over the plain, and eastward to the river, and +westward to Mount Zagros. His life was spent, and he was well-nigh a +hundred years old. Seventeen years had passed since he had interpreted +the fatal writing on the wall of the banquet-hall in Babylon in the +night when Nabonnedon Belshazzar was slain, and the kingdom of the +Assyrians destroyed for ever. Again and again invested with power and +with the governorship of provinces, he had toiled unceasingly in the +reigns of Cyrus and Cambyses, and though he was on the very boundary of +possible lifetime, his brain was unclouded, and his eye keen and +undimmed still. Only his grand figure was more bent and his step slower +than before. +</p> +<p> +He dwelt in Ecbatana of the north, in the tower he had built for +himself.<a href="#note-1" name="noteref-1"><small>1</small></a> In the midst of the royal palaces of the stronghold he had +laid the foundations duly to the north and south, and story upon story +had risen, row upon row of columns, balcony upon balcony of black +marble, sculptured richly from basement to turret, and so smooth and +hard, that its polished corners and sides and ornaments glittered like +black diamonds in the hot sun of the noonday, and cast back the +moonbeams at night in a darkly brilliant reflection. +</p> + + +<p> +Far down below, in the gorgeous dwellings that filled the interior of +the fortress, dwelt the kinsfolk of the aged prophet, and the families +of the two Levites who had remained with Daniel and had chosen to +follow him to his new home in Media rather than to return to Jerusalem +under Zerubbabel, when Cyrus issued the writ for the rebuilding of the +temple. There lived also in the palace Zoroaster, the Persian prince, +being now in the thirty-first year of his age, and captain of the city +and of the stronghold. And there, too, surrounded by her handmaidens and +slaves, in a wing of the palace apart from the rest, and more beautiful +for its gardens and marvellous adornment, lived Nehushta, the last of +the descendants of Jehoiakim the king remaining in Media; she was the +fairest of all the women in Media, of royal blood and of more than royal +beauty. +</p> +<p> +She was born in that year when Babylon was overthrown, and Daniel had +brought her with him to Shushan when he had quitted Assyria, and thence +to Ecbatana. In the care of the prophet's kinswomen the little maid had +thriven and grown fair in the stranger's land. Her soft child's eyes had +lost their wondering look and had turned very proud and dark, and the +long black lashes that fringed the heavy lids drooped to her cheek when +she looked down. Her features were noble and almost straight in outline, +but in the slight bend, at the beginning of the nose, in the wide curved +nostrils, the strong full lips, and in the pale olive skin, where the +blood ebbed and flowed so generously, the signs of the Jewish race were +all present and unmistakable. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta, the high-born lady of Judah, was a princess in every movement, +in every action, in every word she uttered. The turn of her proud head +was sovereign in its expression of approval or contempt, and Zoroaster +himself bowed to the simple gesture of her hand as obediently as he +would have done before the Great King in all his glory. Even the +venerable prophet, sitting in his lofty tower high above the city and +the fortress, absorbed in the contemplation of that other life which was +so very near to him, smiled tenderly and stretched out his old hands to +greet Nehushta when she mounted to his chamber at sunset, attended by +her maidens and her slaves. She was the youngest of all his +kinsfolk—fatherless and motherless, the last direct descendant of King +Jehoiakim remaining in Media, and the aged prophet and governor +cherished her and loved her for her royalty, as well as for her beauty +and her kinship to himself. Assyrian in his education, Persian in his +adherence to the conquering dynasty and in his long and faithful service +of the Persians, Daniel was yet in his heart, as in his belief, a true +son of Judah; proud of his race and tender of its young branches, as +though he were himself the father of his country and the king of his +people. +</p> +<p> +The last red glow of the departed day faded and sank above the black +Zagros mountains to westward. The opposite sky was cold and gray, and +all the green plain turned to a dull soft hue as the twilight crept +over it, ever darker and more misty. In the gardens of the palace the +birds in thousands sang together in chorus, as only Eastern birds do +sing at sunrise and at nightfall, and their voices sounded like one +strong, sweet, high chord, unbroken and drawn out. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta wandered in the broad paths alone. The dry warm air of the +summer's evening had no chill in it, and though a fine woven mantle of +purple from Srinagur hung loosely from her shoulders, she needed not to +draw it about her. The delicate folds of her upper tunic fell closely +around her to her knees, and were gathered at the waist by a magnificent +belt of wrought gold and pearls; the long sleeves, drawn in at the wrist +by clasps of pearls, almost covered her slender hands; and as she walked +her delicate feet moved daintily in rich embroidered sandals with high +golden heels, below the folds of the wide trousers of white and gold +embroidery, gathered in at the ankle. Upon her head the stiff linen +tiara of spotless white sat proudly as a royal crown, the folds of it +held by a single pearl of price, and from beneath it her magnificent +hair rolled down below her waist in dark smooth waves. +</p> +<p> +There was a terrace that looked eastward from the gardens. Thither +Nehushta bent her steps, slowly, as though in deep thought, and when she +reached the smooth marble balustrade, she leaned over it and let her +dark eyes rest on the quiet landscape. The peace of the evening +descended upon her; the birds of the day ceased singing with the growing +darkness; and slowly, out of the plain, the yellow moon soared up and +touched the river and the meadows with mystic light; while far off, in +the rose-thickets of the gardens, the first notes of a single +nightingale floated upon the scented breeze, swelling and trilling, +quivering and falling again, in a glory of angelic song. The faint air +fanned her cheek, the odours of the box and the myrtle and the roses +intoxicated her senses, and as the splendid shield of the rising moon +cast its broad light into her dreaming eyes, her heart overflowed, and +Nehushta the princess lifted up her voice and sang an ancient song of +love, in the tongue of her people, to a soft minor melody, that sounded +like a sigh from the southern desert. +</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Come unto me, my beloved, in the warmth of the darkness, come—</p> +<p>Rise, and hasten thy footsteps, to be with me at night-time, come!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"I wait in the darkness for him, and the sand of the desert whirling</p> +<p>Is blown at the door of my tent which is open toward the desert.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"My ear in the darkness listeth for the sound of his coming nearer,</p> +<p> Mine eyes watch for him and rest not, for I would not he found me sleeping.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> "For when my beloved cometh, he is like the beam of the morning;<a href="#note-2" name="noteref-2"><small>2</small></a></p> +<p>Ev'n as the dawn in a strange land to the sight of a man journeying.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Yea, when my beloved cometh, as dew that descendeth from heaven,</p> +<p>No man can hear when it falleth, but as rain it refresheth all + things.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"In his hand bringeth he lilies, in his right hand are many flowers,</p> +<p>Roses hath he on his forehead, he is crowned with roses from Shinar.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"The night-winds make sweet songs for him, even in the darkness soft music;</p> +<p>Whithersoever he goeth, there his sweetness goeth before him."</p> +</div> +</div> + + +<p> +Her young voice died away in a soft murmuring cadence, and the +nightingale alone poured out her heartful of lore to the ancient moon. +But as Nehushta rested immovable by the marble balustrade of the +terrace, there was a rustle among the myrtles and a quick step on the +pavement. The dark maiden started at the sound, and a happy smile parted +her lips. But she did not turn to look; only her hand stole out behind +her on the marble where she knew her lover's would meet it. There was in +the movement all the certainty of conquest and yet all the tenderness of +love. The Persian trod quickly and laid his hand on hers, and bent to +her, trying to meet her eyes: for one moment still she gazed out +straight before her, then turned and faced him suddenly, as though she +had withheld her welcome as long as she could and then given it all at +once. +</p> +<p> +"I did not call you," she said, covering him with her eyes in the +moonlight, but making as though she would withdraw herself a little from +him, as he drew her with his hand, and with his arm, and with his eyes. +</p> +<p> +"And yet I heard you call me, my beloved," answered Zoroaster. "I heard +your voice singing very sweet things in your own language—and so I +came, for you did call me." +</p> +<p> +"But did you pride yourself it was for you?" laughed Nehushta. "I sang +of the desert, and of tents, and of whirling sand—there is none of +these things here." +</p> +<p> +"You said that your beloved brought roses in his hand—and so I do. I +will crown you with them. May I? No—I shall spoil your head-dress. Take +them and do as you will with them." +</p> +<p> +"I will take them—and—I always do as I will." +</p> +<p> +"Then will to take the giver also," answered Zoroaster, letting his arm +steal about her, as he half sat upon the balustrade. Nehushta looked at +him again, for he was good to see, and perhaps she loved his straight +calm features the better in that his face was fair, and not dark like +hers. +</p> +<p> +"Methinks I have taken the giver already," she answered. +</p> +<p> +"Not yet—not all," said Zoroaster in a low voice, and a shadow of +sadness crossed his noble face that looked white in the moonlight. +Nehushta sighed softly and presently she laid her cheek upon his +shoulder where the folding of his purple mantle made a pillow between +her face and the polished golden scales of his breastplate. +</p> +<p> +"I have strange news to tell you, beloved," said Zoroaster presently. +Nehushta started and looked up, for his voice was sad. "Nay, fear not!" +he continued, "there is no harm in it, I trust; but there are great +changes in the kingdom, and there will be greater changes yet. The seven +princes have slain Smerdis in Shushan, and Darius is chosen king, the +son of Gushtasp, whom the Greeks call Hystaspes." +</p> +<p> +"He who came hither last year?" asked Nehushta quickly. "He is not fair, +this new king." +</p> +<p> +"Not fair," replied the Persian, "but a brave man and a good. He has, +moreover, sent for me to go to Shushan—" +</p> +<p> +"For you!" cried Nehushta, suddenly laying her two hands on Zoroaster's +shoulders and gazing into his eyes. His face was to the moonlight, while +hers was in the dark, and she could see every shade of expression. He +smiled. "You laugh at me!" she cried indignantly. "You mock me—you are +going away and you are glad!" +</p> +<p> +She would have turned away from him, but he held her two hands. +</p> +<p> +"Not alone," he answered. "The Great King has sent an order that I shall +bring to Shushan the kinsfolk of Jehoiakim, saving only Daniel, our +master, for he is so old that he cannot perform the journey. The king +would honour the royal seed of Judah, and to that end he sends for you, +most noble and most beloved princess." +</p> +<p> +Nehushta was silent and thoughtful; her hand slipped from Zoroaster's +grasp, and her eyes looked dreamily out at the river, on which the beams +of the now fully-risen moon glanced, as on the scales of a silver +serpent. +</p> +<p> +"Are you glad, my beloved?" asked Zoroaster. He stood with his back to +the balustrade, leaning on one elbow, and his right hand played +carelessly with the heavy gold tassels of his cloak. He had come up from +the fortress in his armour, as he was, to bring the news to Nehushta and +to Daniel; his gilded harness was on his back, half-hidden by the ample +purple cloak, his sword was by his side, and on his head he wore the +pointed helmet, richly inlaid with gold, bearing in front the winged +wheel which the sovereigns of the Persian empire had assumed after the +conquest of Assyria. His very tall and graceful body seemed planned to +combine the greatest possible strength with the most surpassing +activity, and in his whole presence there breathed the consciousness of +ready and elastic power, the graceful elasticity of a steel bow always +bent, the inexpressible ease of motion and the matchless swiftness that +men had when the world was young—that wholeness of harmonious +proportion which alone makes rest graceful, and the inactivity of +idleness itself like a mode of perfect motion. As they stood there +together, the princess of Judah and the noble Persian, they were wholly +beautiful and yet wholly contrasted—the Semite and the Aryan, the dark +race of the south, on which the hot air of the desert had breathed for +generations in the bondage of Egypt, and left its warm sign-manual of +southern sunshine,—and the fair man of the people whose faces were +already set northwards, on whom the north breathed already its icy +fairness, and magnificent coldness of steely strength. +</p> +<p> +"Are you glad, my beloved?" asked Zoroaster again, looking up and laying +his right hand on the princess's arm. She had given no answer to his +question, but only gazed dreamily out over the river. +</p> +<p> +She seemed about to speak, then paused again, then hesitated and +answered his question by another. +</p> +<p> +"Zoroaster—you love me," again she paused, and, as he passionately +seized her hands and pressed his lips to them, she said softly, turning +her head away, "What is love?" +</p> +<p> +He, too, waited one moment before he answered, and, standing to his +lordly height, took her head between his hands and pressed it to his +breast; then, with one arm around her, he stood looking eastward and +spoke: +</p> +<p> +"Listen, my beloved, and I, who love you, will tell you what love is. In +the far-off dawn of the soul-life, in the ethereal distance of the outer +firmament, in the mist of the star-dust, our spirits were quickened with +the spirit of God, and found one another, and met. Before earth was for +us, we were one; before time was for us, we were one—even as we shall +be one when there is no time for us any more. Then Ahura Mazda, the +all-wise God, took our two souls from among the stars, and set them in +the earth, clothed for a time with mortal bodies. But we know each +other, that we were together from the first, although these earthly +things obscure our immortal vision, and we see each other less clearly. +Yet is our love none the less—rather, it seems every day greater, for +our bodies can feel joy and sorrow, even as our spirits do; so that I am +able to suffer for you, in which I rejoice, and I would that I might be +chosen to lay down my life for you, that you might know how I love you; +for often you doubt me, and sometimes you doubt yourself. There should +be no doubt in love. Love is from the first, and will be to the end, and +beyond the end; love is so eternal, so great, so whole, that this mortal +life of ours is but as a tiny instant, a moment of pausing in our +journey from one star-world to another along the endless paths of +heavenly glory we shall tread, together—it is nothing, this worldly +life of ours. Before it shall seem long that we have loved, this earth +we stand on, these things we touch, these bodies of ours that we think +so strong and fair, will be forgotten and dissolved into their elements +in the trackless and undiscoverable waste of past mortality, while we +ourselves are ever young, and ever fair, and for ever living in our +immortal love." +</p> +<p> +Nehushta looked up wonderingly into her lover's eyes, then let her head +rest on his shoulder. The high daring of his thoughts seemed ever trying +to scale heaven itself, seeking to draw her to some wondrous region of +mystic beauty and strange spirit life. She was awed for a moment, then +she, too, spoke in her own fashion. +</p> +<p> +"I love life," she said, "I love you because you live, not because you +are a spirit chained and tied down for a time. I love this soft sweet +earth, the dawn of it, and the twilight of it; I love the sun in his +rising and in his setting; I love the moon in her fulness and in her +waning; I love the smell of the box and of the myrtle, of the roses and +of the violets; I love the glorious light of day, the splendour of heat +and greenness, the song of the birds of the air and the song of the +labourer in the field, the hum of the locust, and the soft buzzing of +the bee; I love the brightness of gold and the richness of fine purple, +the tramp of your splendid guards and the ring of their trumpets +clanging in the fresh morning, as they march through the marble courts +of the palace. I love the gloom of night for its softness, the song of +the nightingale in the ivory moonlight, the rustle of the breeze in the +dark rose-thickets, and the odour of the sleeping flowers in my gardens; +I love even the cry of the owl from the prophet's tower, and the soft +thick sound of the bat's wings, as he flits past the netting of my +window. I love it all, for the whole earth is rich and young and good to +touch, and most sweet to live in. And I love you because you are more +beautiful than other men, fairer and stronger and braver, and because +you love me, and will let no other love me but yourself, if you were to +die for it. Ah, my beloved, I would that I had all the sweet voices of +the earth, all the tuneful tongues of the air, to tell you how I love +you!" +</p> +<p> +"There is no lack of sweetness, nor of eloquence, my princess," said +Zoroaster; "there is no need of any voice sweeter than yours, nor of any +tongue more tuneful. You love in your way, I in mine; the two together +must surely be the perfect whole. Is it not so? Nay—seal the deed once +again—and again—so! 'Love is stronger than death,' says your +preacher." +</p> +<p> +"'And jealousy is as cruel as the grave,' he says, too," added Nehushta, +her eyes flashing fire as her lips met his. "You must never make me +jealous, Zoroaster, never, never! I would be so cruel—you cannot dream +how cruel I would be!" +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster laughed under his silken beard, a deep, joyous, ringing laugh +that startled the moonlit stillness. +</p> +<p> +"By Nabon and Bel, there is small cause for your jealousy here," he +said. +</p> +<p> +"Swear not by your false gods!" laughed Nehushta. "You know not how +little it would need to rouse me." +</p> +<p> +"I will not give you that little," answered the Persian. "And as for the +false gods, they are well enough for a man to swear by in these days. +But I will swear by any one you command me, or by anything!" +</p> +<p> +"Swear not, or you will say again that the oath has need of sealing," +replied Nehushta, drawing her mantle around her, so as to cover half her +face. "Tell me, when are we to begin our journey? We have talked much +and have said little, as it ever is. Shall we go at once, or are we to +wait for another order? Is Darius safe upon the throne? Who is to be +chiefest at the court—one of the seven princes, I suppose, or his old +father? Come, do you know anything of all these changes? Why have you +never told me what was going to happen—you who are high in power and +know everything?" +</p> +<p> +"Your questions flock upon me like doves to a maiden who feeds them +from her hand," said Zoroaster, with a smile, "and I know not which +shall be fed first. As for the king, I know that he will be great, and +will hold securely the throne, for he has already the love of the people +from the Western sea to the wild Eastern mountains. But it seemed as +though the seven princes would have divided the empire amongst them, +until this news came. I think he will more likely take one of your +people for his close friend than trust to the princes. As for our +journey, we must depart betimes, or the king will have gone before us +from Shushan to Stakhar in the south, where they say he will build +himself a royal dwelling and stay in the coming winter time. Prepare +yourself for the journey, therefore, my princess, lest anything be +forgotten and you should be deprived of what you need for any time." +</p> +<p> +"I am never deprived of what I need," said Nehushta, half in pride and +half in jest. +</p> +<p> +"Nor I, when I am with my beloved!" answered the Persian. "And now the +moon is high, and I must bear this news to our master, the prophet." +</p> +<p> +"So soon?" said Nehushta reproachfully, and she turned her head away. +</p> +<p> +"I would there were no partings, my beloved, even for the space of an +hour," answered Zoroaster, tenderly drawing her to him; but she resisted +a little and would not look at him. +</p> +<p> +"Farewell now—good-night, my princess—light of my soul;" he kissed her +dark cheek passionately. "Good-night!" +</p> +<p> +He trod swiftly across the terrace. +</p> +<p> +"Zoroaster! prince!" Nehushta called aloud, but without turning. He +came back. She threw her arms about his neck and kissed him almost +desperately. Then she pushed him gently away from her. +</p> +<p> +"Go—my love—only that," she murmured, and he left her standing by the +marble balustrade, while the yellow moon turned slowly pale as she rose +in the heavens, and the song of the lorn nightingale re-echoed in the +still night, from the gardens to the towers, in long sweet cries of +burning love, and soft, complaining, silvery notes of mingled sorrow and +joy. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0014" id="h2HCH0014"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER III. +</h2> +<p> +In the prophet's chamber, also, the moonbeams fell upon the marble +floor; but a seven-beaked Hebrew lamp of bronze shed a warmer light +around, soft and mellow, yet strong enough to illuminate the scroll that +lay open upon the old man's knee. His brows were knit together, and the +furrows on his face were shaded deeply by the high light, as he sat +propped among many cushions and wrapped in his ample purple cloak that +was thickly lined with fur and drawn together over his snowy beard; for +the years of his life were nearly accomplished, and the warmth of his +body was even then leaving him. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster raised the heavy curtain of carpet that hung before the low +square door, and came and bowed himself before the teacher of his youth +and the friend of his manhood. The prophet looked up keenly, and +something like a smile crossed his stern features as his eyes rested on +the young officer in his magnificent armour; Zoroaster held his helmet +in his hand, and his fair hair fell like a glory to his shoulders, +mingling with his silky beard upon his breastplate. His dark blue eyes +met his master's fearlessly. +</p> +<p> +"Hail! and live for ever, chosen of the Lord!" he said in salutation. "I +bring tidings of great moment and importance. If it be thy pleasure, I +will speak; but if not, I will come at another season." +</p> +<p> +"Sit upon my right hand, Zoroaster, and tell me all that thou hast to +tell. Art thou not my beloved son, whom the Lord hath given me to +comfort mine old age?" +</p> +<p> +"I am thy servant and the servant of thine house, my father," answered +Zoroaster, seating himself upon a carved chair at a little distance from +the prophet. +</p> +<p> +"Speak, my son,—what tidings hast thou?" +</p> +<p> +"There is a messenger come in haste from Shushan, bearing tidings and +letters. The seven princes have slain Smerdis in his house, and have +chosen Darius the son of Gushtasp to be king." +</p> +<p> +"Praise be to the Lord who hath chosen a just man!" exclaimed the +prophet devoutly. "So may good come out of evil, and salvation by the +shedding of blood." +</p> +<p> +"Even so, my master," answered Zoroaster. "It is also written that +Darius, may he live for ever, will establish himself very surely upon +the throne of the Medes and Persians. There are letters by the hand of +the same messenger, sealed with the signet of the Great King, wherein I +am bidden to bring the kinsfolk of Jehoiakim, who was king over Judah, +to Shushan without delay, that the Great King may do them honour as is +meet and right; but what that honour may be that he would do to them, I +know not." +</p> +<p> +"What is this that thou sayest?" asked Daniel, starting forward from his +reclining position, and fixing his dark eyes on Zoroaster. "Will the +king take away from me the children of my old age? Art not thou as my +son? And is not Nehushta as my daughter? As for the rest, I care not if +they go. But Nehushta is as the apple of my eye! She is as a fair flower +growing in the desert of my years! What is this that the king hath done +to me? Whither will he take her from me?" +</p> +<p> +"Let not my lord be troubled," said Zoroaster, earnestly, for he was +moved by the sudden grief of the prophet. "Let not my lord be troubled. +It is but for a space, for a few weeks; and thy kinsfolk will be with +thee again, and I also." +</p> +<p> +"A space, a few weeks! What is a space to thee, child, or a week that +thou shouldest regard it? But I am old and full of years. It may be, if +now thou takest my daughter Nehushta from me, that I shall see her face +no more, neither thine, before I go hence and return not. Go to! Thou +art young, but I am now nigh unto a hundred years old." +</p> +<p> +"Nevertheless, if it be the will of the Great King, I must accomplish +this thing," answered the young man. "But I will swear by thy head and +by mine that there shall no harm happen to the young princess; and if +anything happen to her that is evil, may the Lord do so to me and more +also. Behold, I have sworn; let not my lord be troubled any more." +</p> +<p> +But the prophet bowed his head and covered his face with his hands. Aged +and childless, Zoroaster and Nehushta were to him children, and he loved +them with his whole soul. Moreover, he knew the Persian Court, and he +knew that if once they were taken into the whirl and eddy of its +intrigue and stirring life, they would not return to Ecbatana; or +returning, they would be changed and seem no more the same. He was +bitterly grieved and hurt at the thought of such a separation, and in +the grand simplicity of his greatness he felt no shame at shedding +tears for them. Zoroaster himself, in the pride of his brilliant youth, +was overcome with pain at the thought of quitting the sage who had been +a father to him for thirty years. He had never been separated from +Daniel save for a few months at a time during the wars of Cambyses; at +six-and-twenty years of age he had been appointed to the high position +of captain of the fortress of Ecbatana; since which time he had enjoyed +the closest intercourse with the prophet, his master. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster was a soldier by force of circumstances, and he wore his +gorgeous arms with matchless grace, but there were two things that, with +him, went before his military profession, and completely eclipsed it in +importance. +</p> +<p> +From his earliest youth he had been the pupil of Daniel, who had +inspired him with his own love of the mystic lore to which the prophet +owed so much of his singular success in the service of the Assyrian and +Persian monarchs. The boy's poetical mind, strengthened and developed by +the study of the art of reasoning, and of the profound mathematical +knowledge of the Chaldean astronomers, easily grasped the highest +subjects, and showed from the first a capacity and lucidity that +delighted his master. To attain by a life of rigid ascetic practice to +the intuitive comprehension of knowledge, to the understanding of +natural laws not discernible to the senses alone, and to the merging of +the soul and higher intelligence in the one universal and divine +essence, were the objects Daniel proposed to his willing pupil. The +noble boy, by his very nature, scorned and despised the pleasures of +sense, and yearned ever for the realising of an ideal wherein a sublime +wisdom of transcendent things should direct a sublime courage in things +earthly to the doing of great deeds. +</p> +<p> +Year after year the young Persian grew up in the splendid surroundings +of the court, distinguished before all those of his age for his courage +and fearless honesty, for his marvellous beauty, and for his profound +understanding of all subjects, great and small, that came within the +sphere of his activity; most of all remarkable, perhaps, for the fact +that he cared nothing for the society of women, and had never been known +to love any woman. He was a favourite with Cyrus; and even Cambyses, +steeped in degrading vice, and surrounded by flatterers, panderers, and +priests of the Magians, from the time when he began to suspect his +brother, the real Smerdis, of designs upon the throne, recognised the +exceptional merits and gifts of the young noble, and promoted him to his +position in Echatana, at the time when he permitted Daniel to build his +great tower in that ancient fortress. The dissipated king may have +understood that the presence of such men as Daniel and Zoroaster would +be of greater advantage in an outlying district where justice and +moderation would have a good effect upon the population, than in his +immediate neighbourhood, where the purity and temperance of their lives +contrasted too strongly with the degrading spectacle his own vices +afforded to the court. +</p> +<p> +Here, in the splendid retirement of a royal palace, the prophet had +given himself up completely to the contemplation of those subjects +which, through all his life, had engrossed his leisure time, and of +which the knowledge had so directly contributed to his singular career; +and in the many hours of leisure which Zoroaster's position allowed him, +Daniel sought to bring the intelligence of the soldier-philosopher to +the perfection of its final development. Living, as he did, entirely in +his tower, save when, at rare intervals, he caused himself to be carried +down to the gardens, the prophet knew little of what went on in the +palace below, so that he sometimes marvelled that his pupil's attention +wandered, and that his language betrayed occasionally a keener interest +in his future, and in the possible vicissitudes of his military life, +than he had formerly been wont to show. +</p> +<p> +For a new element had entered into the current of Zoroaster's thoughts. +For years he had seen the lovely child Nehushta growing up. As a boy of +twenty summers he had rocked her on his knee; later he had taught her +and played with her, and seen the little child turn to the slender girl, +haughty and royal in her young ways, and dominating her playfellows as a +little lioness might rule a herd of tamer creatures; and at last her +sixteenth year had brought with it the bloom of early southern +womanhood, and Zoroaster, laughing with her among the roses in the +gardens, on a summer's day, had felt his heart leap and sink within him, +and his own fair cheek grow hot and cold for the ring of her voice and +the touch of her soft hand. +</p> +<p> +He who knew so much of mankind, who had lived so long at the court, and +had coldly studied every stage of human nature, where unbridled human +nature ever ruled the hour, knew what he felt; and it was as though he +had received a sharp wound that thrust him through, body and heart and +soul, and cleft his cold pride in two. For days he wandered beneath the +pines and the rhododendron trees alone, lamenting for the fabric of +mighty philosophy he had built himself, in which no woman was ever to +set foot; and which a woman's hand, a woman's eyes had shattered in a +day. It seemed as if his whole life were blasted and destroyed, so that +he was become even as other men, to suffer love and eat his heart out +for a girl's fair word. He would have escaped from meeting the dark +young princess again; but one evening, as he stood alone upon the +terrace of the gardens, sorrowing for the change in himself, she found +him, and there they looked into each other's eyes and saw a new light, +and loved each other fiercely from that day, as only the untainted +children of godlike races could love. But neither of them dared to tell +the prophet, nor to let those of the palace know that they had pledged +each other their troth, down there upon the moonlit terrace, behind the +myrtles. Instinctively they dreaded lest the knowledge of their love +should raise a storm of anger in Daniel's breast at the idea that his +chosen philosopher should abandon the paths of mystic learning and +reduce himself to the level of common mankind by marriage; and Zoroaster +guessed how painful to the true Israelite would be the thought that a +daughter and a princess of Judah should be united in wedlock with one +who, however noble and true and wise, was, after all, a stranger and an +unbeliever. For Zoroaster, while devoting himself heart and soul to the +study of Daniel's philosophy, and of the wisdom the latter had acquired +from the Chaldeans, had nevertheless firmly maintained his independence +of thought. He was not an Israelite, nor would he ever wish to become +one; but he was not an idolater nor a Magian, nor a follower of Gomata, +the half-Indian Brahmin, who had endeavoured to pass himself off as +Smerdis the son of Cyrus. +</p> +<p> +Either of these causes alone would have sufficed to raise a serious +obstacle to the marriage. Together they seemed insurmountable. During +the disorder and anarchy that prevailed in the seven months of the reign +of Pseudo-Smerdis, it would have been madness to have married, trusting +to the favour of the wretched semi-monarch for fortune and advancement; +nor could Nehushta have married and maintained her state as a princess +of Judah without the consent of Daniel, who was her guardian, and whose +influence was paramount in Media, and very great even at court. +Zoroaster was therefore driven to conceal his passion as best he could, +trusting to the turn of future events for the accomplishment of his +dearest wish. In the meanwhile, he and the princess met daily in public, +and Zoroaster's position as captain of the fortress gave him numerous +opportunities of meeting Nehushta in the solitude of the gardens, which +were jealously guarded and set apart exclusively for the use of Nehushta +and her household. +</p> +<p> +But now that the moment had come when it seemed as though a change were +to take place in the destinies of the lovers, they felt constrained. +Beyond a few simple questions and answers, they had not discussed the +matter of the journey when they were together; for Nehushta was so much +surprised and delighted at the idea of again seeing the magnificence of +the court at Shushan, which she so well remembered from the period of +her childhood, that she feared to let Zoroaster see how glad she was to +leave Ecbatana, which, but for him, would have been to her little better +than a prison. He, on the contrary, thinking that he foresaw an +immediate removal of all obstacle and delay through the favor of Darius, +was, nevertheless, too gentle and delicate of tact to bring suddenly +before Nehushta's mind the prospect of marrying which presented itself +so vividly to his own fancy. But he felt no less disturbed in his heart +when face to face with the old prophet's sorrow at losing his +foster-daughter; and, for the first time in his life, he felt guilty +when he reflected that Daniel was grieved at his own departure almost as +deeply as on account of Nehushta. He experienced what is so common with +persons of cold and even temperament when brought into close relation +with more expansive and affectionate natures; he was overcome with the +sense that his old master gave him more love and more thought than he +could possibly give in return, and that he was therefore ungrateful; and +the knowledge he alone possessed, that he surely intended to marry the +princess in spite of the prophet, and by the help of the king, added +painfully to his mental suffering. +</p> +<p> +The silence lasted some minutes, till the old man suddenly lifted his +head and leaned back among his cushions, gazing at his companion's +face. +</p> +<p> +"Hast thou no sorrow, nor any regret?" he asked sadly. +</p> +<p> +"Nay, my lord doth me injustice," answered Zoroaster, his brows +contracting in his perplexity. "I should be ungrateful if I repented not +leaving thee even for the space of a day. But let my lord be comforted; +this parting is not for long, and before the flocks come down from +Zagros to take shelter from the winter, we will be with thee." +</p> +<p> +"Swear to me, then, that thou wilt return before the winter," insisted +the prophet half-scornfully. +</p> +<p> +"I cannot swear," answered Zoroaster. "Behold, I am in the hands of the +Great King. I cannot swear." +</p> +<p> +"Say rather that thou art in the hand of the Lord, and that therefore +thou canst not swear. For I say thou wilt not return, and I shall see +thy face no more. The winter cometh, and the birds of the air fly +towards the south, and I am alone in the land of snow and frost; and the +spring cometh also, and I am yet alone, and my time is at hand; for thou +comest not any more, neither my daughter Nehushta, neither any of my +kinsfolk. And behold, I go down to the grave alone." +</p> +<p> +The yellow light of the hanging lamp above shone upon the old man's +eyes, and there was a dull fire in them. His face was drawn and haggard, +and every line and furrow traced by the struggles of his hundred years +stood out dark and rugged and tremendous in power. Zoroaster shuddered +as he looked on him, and, though he would have spoken, he was awed to +silence. +</p> +<p> +"Go forth, my son," cried the prophet in deep tones, and as he spoke he +slowly raised his body till he sat rigidly erect, and his wan and +ancient fingers were stretched out towards the young soldier. "Go forth +and do thy part, for thou art in the hand of the Lord, and some things +that thou wilt do shall be good, and some things evil. For thou hast +departed from the path of crystal that leadeth among the stars, and thou +hast fallen away from the ladder whereby the angels ascend and descend +upon the earth, and thou art gone after the love of a woman which +endureth not. And for a season thou shalt be led astray, and for a time +thou shalt suffer great things; and after a time thou shalt return into +the way; and again a time, and thou shalt perish in thine own +imaginations, because thou hast not known the darkness from the light, +nor the good from the evil. By a woman shalt thou go astray, and from a +woman shalt thou return; yet thou shalt perish. But because there is +some good in thee, it shall endure, and thy name also, for generations; +and though the evil that besetteth thee shall undo thee, yet at the last +thy soul shall live." +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster buried his face in his hands, overcome by the majesty of the +mighty prophet and by the terror of his words. +</p> +<p> +"Rise and go forth, for the hand of the Lord is upon thee, and no man +can hinder that thou doest. Thou shalt look upon the sun and shalt +delight in him; and again thou shalt look and the light of the air shall +be as darkness. Thou shalt boast in thy strength and in thine armour +that there is none like thee, and again thou shalt cast thy glory from +thee and say, 'This also is vanity.' The king delighteth in thee, and +thou shalt stand before the queen in armour of gold and in fine raiment; +and the end is near, for the hand of the Lord is upon thee. If the Lord +will work great things by thee, what is that to me? Go forth quickly, +and rest not by the way, lest the woman tempt thee and thou perish. And +as for me, I go also—not with thee, but before thee. See that thou +follow after—for I go. Yea, I see even now light in the darkness of the +world, and the glory of the triumph of heaven is over me, triumphing +greatly in the majesty of light." +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster looked up and fell to the ground upon his knees in wonder and +amazement at Daniel's feet, while his heavy helmet rolled clanging on +the marble pavement. The prophet stood erect as a giant oak, stretching +his withered hands to heaven, all the mass of his snow-white hair and +beard falling about him to his waist. His face was illuminated as from +within with a strange light, and his dark eyes turned upward seemed to +receive and absorb the brightness of an open heaven. His voice rang +again with the strength of youth, and his whole figure was clothed as +with the majesty of another world. Again he spoke: +</p> +<p> +"Behold, the voice of the ages is in me, and the Lord my God hath taken +me up. My days are ended; I am taken up and shall no more be cast down. +The earth departeth and the glory of the Lord is come which hath no end +for ever." +</p> +<p> +"The Lord cometh—He cometh quickly. In His right hand are the ages, and +the days and the nights are under His feet. His ranks of the Cherubim +are beside Him, and the armies of the Seraphim are dreadful. The stars +of heaven tremble, and the voice of their moaning is as the voice of the +uttermost fear. The arch of the outer firmament is shivered like a +broken bow, and the curtain of the sky is rent in pieces as a veil in +the tempest. The sun and the moon shriek aloud, and the sea crieth +horribly before the Lord." +</p> +<p> +"The nations are extinct as the ashes of a fire that is gone out, and +the princes of the earth are no more. He hath bruised the earth in a +mortar, and the dust of it is scattered abroad in the heavens. The stars +in their might hath He pounded to pieces, and the foundations of the +ages to fine powder. There is nothing of them left, and their voices are +dead. There are dim shapes in the horror of emptiness." +</p> +<p> +"But out of the north ariseth a fair glory with brightness, and the +breath of the Lord breatheth life into all things. The beam of the dawn +is risen, and there shall again be times and seasons, and the Being of +the majesty of God is made manifest in form. From the dust of the earth +is the earth made again, and of the beams of His glory shall He make new +stars." +</p> +<p> +"Send up the voices of praise, O ye things that are; cry out in +exultation with mighty music! Praise the Lord in whom is Life, and in +whom all things have Being! Praise Him and glorify Him that is risen +with the wings of the morning of heaven; in whose breath the stars +breathe, in whose brightness also the firmament is lightened! Praise Him +who maketh the wheels of the spheres to run their courses; who maketh +the flowers to bloom in the spring, and the little flowers of the field +to give forth their sweetness! Praise Him, winter and summer; praise +Him, cold and heat! Praise Him, stars of heaven; praise Him, men and +women in the earth! Praise and glory and honour be unto the Most High +Jehovah, who sitteth upon the Throne for ever, and ever, and ever...." +</p> +<p> +The prophet's voice rang out with tremendous force and majestic +clearness as he uttered the last words. Throwing up his arms to their +height, he stood one moment longer, immovable, his face radiantly +illuminated with an unearthly glory. One instant he stood there, and +then fell back, straight and rigid, to his length upon the cushioned +floor—dead! +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster started to his feet in amazement and horror, and stood staring +at the body of his master and friend lying stiff and stark beneath the +yellow light of the hanging lamp. Then suddenly he sprang forward and +kneeled again beside the pale noble head that looked so grand in death. +He took one of the hands and chafed it, he listened for the beating of +the heart that beat no more, and sought for the stirring of the least +faint breath of lingering life. But he sought in vain; and there, in the +upper chamber of the tower, the young warrior fell upon his face and +wept alone by the side of the mighty dead. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0015" id="h2HCH0015"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER IV. +</h2> +<p> +Thus died Daniel, and for seven days the women sat apart upon the ground +and mourned him, while the men embalmed his body and made it ready for +burial. They wrapped him in much fine linen and poured out very precious +spices and ointments from the store-houses of the palaces. Round about +his body they burned frankincense and myrrh and amber, and the gums of +the Indian benzoe and of the Persian fir, and great candles of pure wax; +for all the seven days the mourners from the city made a great mourning, +ceasing not to sing the praises of the prophet and to cry aloud by day +and night that the best and the worthiest and the greatest of all men +was dead. +</p> +<p> +Thus they watched and mourned, and sang his great deeds. And in the +lower chamber of the tower the women sat upon the floor, with Nehushta +in their midst, and sorrowed greatly, fasting and mourning in raiment of +sackcloth, and strewing ashes upon the floor and upon themselves. +Nehushta's face grew thin and very pale and her lips white in that time, +and she let her heavy hair hang neglected about her. Many of the men +shaved their heads and went barefooted, and the fortress and the palaces +were filled with the sound of weeping and grief. The Hebrews who were +there mourned their chief, and the two Levites sat beside the dead man +and read long chapters from their scriptures. The Medes mourned their +great and just governor, under the Assyrian name of Belteshazzar, given +first to Daniel by Nebuchadnezzar; and from all the town the noise of +their weeping and mourning came up, like the mighty groan of a nation, +to the ears of those that dwelt in the fortress and the palace. +</p> +<p> +On the eighth day they buried him, with pomp and state, in a tomb in the +garden which they had built during the week of mourning. The two Levites +and a young Hebrew and Zoroaster himself, clad in sackcloth and +barefooted, raised up the prophet's body upon a bier and bore him upon +their shoulders down the broad staircase of the tower and out into the +garden to his tomb. The mourners went before, many hundreds of Median +women with dishevelled hair, rending their dresses of sackcloth and +scattering ashes upon their path and upon their heads, crying aloud in +wild voices of grief and piercing the air with their screams, till they +came to the tomb and stood round about it while the four men laid their +master in his great coffin of black marble beneath the pines and the +rhododendrons. And the pipers followed after, making shrill and dreadful +music that sounded as though some supernatural beings added their voices +to the universal wail of woe. And on either side of the body walked the +women, the prophet's kinsfolk; but Nehushta walked by Zoroaster, and +ever and anon, as the funeral procession wound through the myrtle walks +of the deep gardens, her dark and heavy eyes stole a glance sidelong at +her strong fair lover. His face was white as death and set sternly +before him, and his dishevelled hair and golden beard flowed wildly +over the rough coarseness of his long sackcloth garments. But his step +never faltered, though he walked barefooted upon the hard gravel, and +from the upper chamber of the tower whence they bore the corpse to the +very moment when they laid it in the tomb, his face never changed, +neither looked he to the right nor to the left. And then, at last, when +they had lowered their beloved master with linen bands to his last +resting-place, and the women came near with boxes of nard and ambergris +and precious ointments, Zoroaster looked long and fixedly at the swathed +head, and the tears rolled down his cheeks and dropped upon his beard +and upon the marble of the coffin; till at last he turned in silence, +and went away through the multitude that parted before him, as pale as +the dead and answering no man's greeting, nor even glancing at Nehushta +who had stood at his elbow. And he went away and hid himself for the +rest of that day. +</p> +<p> +But in the evening, when the sun was gone down, he came and stood upon +the terrace in the darkness, for there was no moon. He wore again his +arms, and his purple cloak was about him, for he had his duty to perform +in visiting the fortress. The starlight glimmered faintly on his +polished helmet and duskily made visible his marble features and his +beard. He stood with his back to the pillars of the balustrade, looking +towards the myrtles of the garden, for he knew that Nehushta would come +to the wonted tryst. He waited long, but at last he heard a step upon +the gravel path and the rustle of the myrtles, and presently in the +faint light he could see the white skirt of her garment beneath the dark +mantle moving swiftly towards him. He sprang forward to meet her and +would have taken her in his arms, but she put him back and looked away +from him while she walked slowly to the front of the terrace. Even in +the gloom of the starlight Zoroaster could see that something had +offended her, and a cold weight seemed to fall upon his breast and +chilled the rising words of loving greeting. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster followed her and laid his hand upon her shoulder. +Unresponsive, she allowed it to remain there. +</p> +<p> +"My beloved," he said at last, trying in vain to look into her averted +face, "have you no word for me to-night?" Still she answered nothing. +"Has your sorrow made you forget our love?" he murmured close to her +ear. She started back from him a little and looked at him. Even in the +dusk he could see her eyes flash as she answered: +</p> +<p> +"Had not your own sorrow so utterly got the mastery over you to-day that +you even refused to look at me?" she asked. "In all that long hour when +we were so near together, did you give me one glance? You had forgotten +me in the extremity of your grief!" she cried, scornfully. "And now that +the first torrent of your tears has dwindled to a little stream, you +have time to remember me! I thank my lord for the notice he deigns to +give his handmaiden, but—I need it not. Well—why are you here?" +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster stood up to his height and folded his arms deliberately, +facing Nehushta, and he spoke calmly, though there was in his voice the +dulness of a great and sudden pain. He knew men well enough, but he knew +little of women. +</p> +<p> +"There is a time to be sorrowful and a time for joy," he said. "There is +a time for weeping and a time for the glances of love. I did as I did, +because when a man has a great grief for one dead and when he desires to +show his sorrow in doing honour to one who has been as a father to him, +it is not meet that other thoughts should be in his mind; not even those +thoughts which are most dear to him and nearest to his heart. Therefore +I looked not at you when we were burying our master, and though I love +you and in my heart look ever on your face, yet to-day my eyes were +turned from you and I saw you not. Wherefore are you angry with me?" +</p> +<p> +"I am not angry," said Nehushta, "but think you love me little that you +turn from me so easily." She looked down, and her face was quite hidden +in the dark shadow. Then Zoroaster put his arm about her neck and drew +her to him, and, though she resisted a little, in a moment her head +rested on his breast. Then she struggled again. +</p> +<p> +"Nay, let me go, for you do not love me!" she said, half in a whisper. +But he held her close. +</p> +<p> +"Nay, but you shall not go, for I do love you," he answered tenderly. +</p> +<p> +"Shall not?" cried she, turning in his arms, half fiercely; then her +voice sank and thrilled softly. "Say that I will not," she murmured, and +her arms went round him and pressed him passionately to her. "Oh, my +beloved, why do you ever seem so cold? so cold—when I so love you?" +</p> +<p> +"I am not cold," he said fondly, "and I love you beyond all power of +words to tell. Said we not that you had your way and I mine? Who shall +tell us which is the sweeter music when both unite in so grand a +harmony? Only doubt not, for doubting is as the drop that falls from the +eaves upon the marble corner-stone, and, by ever falling, wears furrows +in the stone that the whole ocean could not soften." +</p> +<p> +"I will not doubt any more," said Nehushta suddenly, "only—can you not +love me a little sometimes in the way I do you? It is so sweet,—my way +of loving." +</p> +<p> +"Indeed I will try, for it is very sweet," answered Zoroaster, and, +bending down, he kissed her lips. Far off from the tower the melancholy +cry of an owl echoed sadly across the gardens, and a cool damp breeze +sprang up suddenly, from the east. Nehushta shuddered slightly, and drew +her cloak about her. +</p> +<p> +"Let us walk upon the terrace," she said, "it is cold to-night—is not +this the last night here?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes; to-morrow we must go hence upon our journey. This is the last +night." +</p> +<p> +Nehushta drew closer to her lover as they paced the terrace together, +and each wound one arm about the other. For some minutes they walked in +silence, each perhaps recalling the many meetings upon that very terrace +since the first time their lips met in love under the ivory moonlight of +the month Tammuz, more than a year ago. At last Nehushta spoke. +</p> +<p> +"Know you this new king?" she asked. "I saw him but for a few moments +last year. He was a young prince, but he is not fair." +</p> +<p> +"A young prince with an old man's head upon his shoulders," answered +Zoroaster. "He is a year younger than I—but I would not have his +battles to fight; nor, if I had, would I have taken Atossa to be my +wife." +</p> +<p> +"Atossa?" repeated Nehushta. +</p> +<p> +"Yes. The king has already married her—she was the wife of Cambyses, +and also of the false Smerdis, the Magian, whom Darius has slain." +</p> +<p> +"Is she fair? Have I not seen her?" asked Nehushta quickly. +</p> +<p> +"Indeed, you must have seen her at the court in Shushan, before we came +to Ecbatana. She was just married to Cambyses then, but he regarded her +little, for he was ever oppressed with wine and feasting. But you were a +child then, and were mostly with the women of your house, and you may +not have seen her." +</p> +<p> +"Tell me—had she not blue eyes and yellow hair? Had she not a cruel +face—very cold?" +</p> +<p> +"Aye, it may be that she had a hard look. I remember that her eyes were +blue. She was very unhappy; therefore she helped the Magian. It was not +she that betrayed him." +</p> +<p> +"You pitied her even then, did you not?" asked Nehushta. +</p> +<p> +"Yes—she deserved pity." +</p> +<p> +"She will have her revenge now. A woman with a face like hers loves +revenge." +</p> +<p> +"Then she will deserve pity no longer," said Zoroaster, with a slight +laugh. +</p> +<p> +"I hate her!" said the princess, between her teeth. +</p> +<p> +"Hate her? How can you hate a woman you have never more than seen, and +she has done you no evil in the world?" +</p> +<p> +"I am sure I shall hate her," answered Nehushta. "She is not at all +beautiful—only cold and white and cruel. How could the Great King be so +foolish as to marry her?" +</p> +<p> +"May he live for ever! He marries whom he pleases. But I pray you, do +not begin by hating the queen overmuch." +</p> +<p> +"Why not? What have I to gain from the queen?" asked the princess. "Am I +not of royal blood as well as she?" +</p> +<p> +"That is true," returned Zoroaster. "Nevertheless there is a prudence +for princesses as well as for other people." +</p> +<p> +"I would not be afraid of the Great King himself with you beside me," +said Nehushta proudly. "But I will be prudent to please you. Only—I am +sure I shall hate her." +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster smiled to himself in the dusk, but he would not have had the +princess see he was amused. +</p> +<p> +"It shall be as you please," he said; "we shall soon know how it will +end, for we must begin our journey to-morrow." +</p> +<p> +"It will need three weeks, will it not?" asked Nehushta. +</p> +<p> +"Yes—it is at least one hundred and fifty farsangs. It would weary you +to travel more than seven or eight farsangs in a day's journey—indeed, +that is a long distance for any one." +</p> +<p> +"We shall always be together, shall we not?" asked the princess. +</p> +<p> +"I will ride beside your litter, my beloved," said Zoroaster. "But it +will be very tedious for you, and you will often be tired. The country +is very wild in some parts, and we must trust to what we can take with +us for our comfort. Do not spare the mules, therefore, but take +everything you need." +</p> +<p> +"Besides, we may not return," said Nehushta thoughtfully. +</p> +<p> +Her companion was silent. "Do you think we shall ever come back?" she +asked presently. +</p> +<p> +"I have dreamed of coming back," answered Zoroaster; "but I fear it is +to be even as you say." +</p> +<p> +"Why say you that you fear it! Is it not better to live at the court +than here in this distant fortress, so shut off from the world that we +might almost as well be among the Scythians? Oh, I long for the palace +at Shushan! I am sure it will seem tenfold more beautiful now than it +did when I was a child." +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster sighed. In his heart he knew there was to be no returning to +Media, and yet he had dreamed of marrying the princess and being made +governor of the province, and bringing his wife home to this beautiful +land to live out a long life of quiet happiness. But he knew it was not +to be; and though he tried hard to shake off the impression, he felt in +his inmost self that the words of the dying prophet foretold truly what +would happen to him. Only he hoped that there was an escape, and the +passion in his heart scorned the idea that in loving Nehushta he was +being led astray, or made to abandon the right path. +</p> +<p> +The cold breeze blew steadily from the east, with a chill dampness in +it, sighing wearily among the trees. The summer was not yet wholly come, +and the after-breath of the winter still made itself felt from time to +time. The lovers parted, taking leave of the spot they loved so +well,—Zoroaster with a heavy foreboding of evil to come; Nehushta with +a great longing for the morrow, a mad desire to be on the way to +Shushan. +</p> +<p> +Something in her way of speaking had given Zoroaster a sense of pain. +Her interest in the court and in the Great King, the strange capricious +hatred that seemed already forming in her breast against Atossa, the +evident desire she betrayed to take part in the brilliant life of the +capital,—indeed, her whole manner troubled him. It seemed so +unaccountable that she should be angry with him for his conduct at the +burial of the prophet, that he almost thought she had wished to take +advantage of a trifle for the sake of annoying him. He felt that doubt +which never comes so suddenly and wounds so keenly as when a man feels +the most certain of his position and of himself. +</p> +<p> +He retired to his apartment in the palace with a burden of unhappiness +and evil presentiment that was new to him. It was very different from +the sincere sorrow he had felt and still suffered for the death of his +master and friend. That misfortune had not affected him as regarded +Nehushta. But now he had been separated from her during all the week by +the exigencies of the funeral ceremonies, and he had looked forward to +meeting her this evening as to a great joy after so much mourning, and +he was disappointed. She had affected to be offended with him, yet his +reason told him that he had acted naturally and rightly. Could he, the +bearer of the prophet's body, the captain of all the fortress, the man +of all others upon whom all eyes were turned, have exchanged love +glances or spoken soft words to the princess by his side at such a time? +It was absurd; she had no right to expect such a thing. +</p> +<p> +However, he reflected that a new kind of life was to begin on the +morrow. For the best part of a month he would ride by her litter all day +long, and sit at her table at noonday and evening; he would watch over +her and take care of her, and see that her slightest wants were +instantly supplied; a thousand incidents would occur whereby he might +re-establish all the loving intimacy which seemed to have been so +unexpectedly shaken. And so, consoling himself with the hopes of the +future, and striving to overlook the present, he fell asleep, wearied +with the fatigues and sorrows of the day. +</p> +<p> +But Nehushta lay all night upon her silken cushions, and watched the +flickering little lamp and the strange shadows it cast among the rich, +painted carvings of the ceiling. She slept little, but waking she +dreamed of the gold and the glitter of Shushan, of the magnificence of +the young king, and of the brilliant hard-featured beauty of Atossa, +whom she already hated or had determined to hate. The king interested +her most. She tried to recall his features and manner as he had appeared +when he tarried one night in the fortress a year previous. She +remembered a black-browed man in the prime of youth, with heavy brows +and an eagle nose; his young beard growing black and square about his +strong dark features, which would have seemed coarse saving for his +bright eyes that looked every man fearlessly in the face. A short man he +seemed in her memory, square built and powerful as a bloodhound, of +quick and decisive speech, expecting to be understood before he had half +spoken his thoughts; a man, she fancied, who must be untiring and +violent of temper, inflexible and brave in the execution of his +purpose—a strong contrast outwardly to her tall and graceful lover. +Zoroaster's faultless beauty was a constant delight to her eyes; his +soft deep voice sounded voluptuously passionate when he spoke to +herself, coldly and deliberately dominating when addressing others. He +moved with perfect certainty and assurance of purpose, his whole +presence breathed a high and superior wisdom and untainted nobility of +mind; he looked and acted like a god, like a being from another world, +not subject to mortal passions, nor to the temptations of common +mankind. She gloried in his perfection and in the secret knowledge that +to her alone he was a man simply and utterly dominated by love. As she +thought of him she grew proud and happy in the idea that such a man +should be her lover, and she reproached herself for doubting his +devotion that evening. After all, she had only complained that he had +neglected her—as he had really done, she added. She wondered in her +heart whether other men would have done the same in his place, or +whether this power of coldly disregarding her presence when he was +occupied with a serious matter were not due to a real and unconquerable +hardness in his nature. +</p> +<p> +But as she lay there, her dark hair streaming over the yellow silk of +her pillows, her mind strayed from her lover to the life before her, and +the picture rose quickly in her imagination. She even took up the silver +mirror that lay beside her and looked at herself by the dim light of the +little lamp, and said to herself that she was beautiful, and that many +in Shushan would do her homage. She was glad that Atossa was so fair—it +would be a better contrast for her own dark southern beauty. +</p> +<p> +Towards morning she slept, and dreamed of the grand figure of the +prophet, as she had seen him stretched upon his death-bed in the upper +chamber of the tower; she thought the dead man stirred and opened his +glazed eyes and pointed at her with his bony fingers, and spoke words of +anger and reproach. Then she woke with a short cry in her terror, and +the light of the dawn shone gray and clear through the doorway of the +corridor at the end of her room, where two of her handmaids slept across +the threshold, their white cloaks drawn over their heads against the +chill air of the night. +</p> +<p> +Then the trumpets rang out in long-drawn clanging rhythm through the +morning air, and Nehushta heard the trampling of the beasts that were +being got ready for the journey, in the court without, and the cries of +the drivers and of the serving-men. She rose quickly from her bed—a +lithe white-clad figure in the dawn light—and pushed the heavy curtains +aside and looked out through the lattice; and she forgot her evil dream, +for her heart leaped again at the thought that she should no more be +shut up in Ecbatana, and that before another month was over she would be +in Shushan, in the palace, where she longed to be. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0016" id="h2HCH0016"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER V. +</h2> +<p> +The sun was almost setting, and his light was already turning to a +golden glow upon the vast plain of Shushan, as the caravan of travellers +halted for the last time. A few stades away the two mounds rose above +the royal city like two tables out of the flat country; the lower one +surmounted by the marble columns, the towers and turrets and gleaming +architraves of the palace; and in front, upon the right, the higher +elevation crowned by the dark and massive citadel of frowning walls and +battlements. The place chosen for the halt was the point where the road +from Nineveh, into which they had turned when about half-way from +Ecbatana, joined the broad road from Babylon, near to the bridge. For +some time they had followed the quiet stream of the Choaspes, and, +looking across it, had watched how the fortress seemed to come forward +and overhang the river, while the mound of the palace fell away to the +background. The city itself was, of course, completely hidden from their +view by the steep mounds, that looked as inaccessible as though they had +been built of solid masonry. +</p> +<p> +Everything in the plain was green. Stade upon stade, and farsang upon +farsang, the ploughed furrows stretched away to the west and south; the +corn standing already green and high, and the fig-trees putting out +their broad green leaves. Here and there in the level expanse of +country the rays of the declining sun were reflected from the +whitewashed walls of a farmhouse; or in the farther distance lingered +upon the burnt-brick buildings of an outlying village. Beyond the river, +in the broad meadow beneath the turret-clad mound, half-naked, sunburnt +boys drove home the small humped cows to the milking, scaring away, as +they went, the troops of white horses that pastured in the same field, +clapping their hands and crying out at the little black foals that ran +and frisked by the side of their white dams. Here and there a +broad-shouldered, bearded fisherman angled in the stream, or flung out a +brown casting-net upon the placid waters, drawing it slowly back to the +bank, with eyes intent upon the moving cords. +</p> +<p> +The caravan halted on the turf by the side of the dusty road; the +mounted guards, threescore stalwart riders from the Median plains, fell +back to make room for the travellers, and, springing to the ground, set +about picketing and watering their horses—their brazen armour and +scarlet and blue mantles blazing in a mass of rich colour in the evening +sun; while their wild white horses, untired by the day's march, plunged +and snorted, and shook themselves, and bit each other in play by mane +and tail, in the delight of being at least half free. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster himself—his purple mantle somewhat whitened with the dust, +and his fair face a little browned by the three weeks' journey—threw +the bridle of his horse to a soldier and ran quickly forward. A +magnificent litter, closed all around with a gilded lattice, and roofed +with three awnings of white linen, one upon the other, as a protection +against the sun, was being carefully unyoked from the mules that had +borne it. Tall Ethiopian slaves lifted it, and carried it to the +greenest spot of the turf by the softly flowing river; and Zoroaster +himself pushed back the lattice and spread a rich carpet before it. +Nehushta took his proffered hand and stepped lightly out, and stood +beside him in the red light. She was veiled, and her purple cloak fell +in long folds to her feet, and she stood motionless, with her back to +the city, looking towards the setting sun. +</p> +<p> +"Why do we stop here?" she asked suddenly. +</p> +<p> +"The Great King, may he live for ever, is said not to be in the city," +answered Zoroaster, "and it would ill become us to enter the palace +before him." He spoke aloud in the Median language that the slaves might +hear him; then he added in Hebrew and in a lower voice, "It would be +scarcely wise, or safe, to enter Shushan when the king is away. Who can +tell what may have happened there in these days? Babylon has rebelled; +the empire is far from settled. All Persia may be on the very point of a +revolt." +</p> +<p> +"A fitting time indeed for our journey—for me and my women to be +travelling abroad with a score of horsemen for a guard! Why did you +bring me here? How long are we to remain encamped by the roadside, +waiting the pleasure of the populace to let us in, or the convenience of +this new king to return?" +</p> +<p> +Nehushta turned upon her companion as she spoke, and there was a ring of +mingled scorn and disappointment in her voice. Her dark eyes stated +coldly at Zoroaster from the straight opening between her veils, and +before he could answer, she turned her back upon him and moved a few +steps away, gazing out at the setting sun across the fertile meadows. +The warrior stood still, and a dark flush overspread his face. Then he +turned pale, but whatever were the words that rose to his lips, he did +not speak them, but occupied himself with superintending the pitching of +the women's tents. The other litters were brought, and set down with +their occupants; the long file of camels, some laden with baggage and +provisions, some bearing female slaves, kneeled down to be unloaded upon +the grass, anxiously craning their long necks the while in the direction +of the stream; the tent-pitchers set to work; and at the last another +score of horsemen, who had formed the rear-guard of the caravan, +cantered up and joined their companions who had already dismounted. With +the rapid skill of long practice, all did their share, and in a few +minutes all the immense paraphernalia of a Persian encampment were +spread out and disposed in place for the night. Contrary to the usual +habit Zoroaster had not permitted the tent-pitchers and other slaves to +pass on while he and his charges made their noonday halt; for he feared +some uprising in the neighbourhood of the city in the absence of the +king, and he wished to keep his whole company together as a measure of +safety, even at the sacrifice of Nehushta's convenience. +</p> +<p> +She herself still stood apart, and haughtily turned away from her +serving-women, giving them no answer when they saluted her and offered +her cushions and cooling drinks. She drew her cloak more closely about +her and tightened her veil upon her face. She was weary, disappointed, +almost angry. For days she had dreamed of the reception she would have +at the palace, of the king and of the court; of the luxury of rest after +her long journey, and of the thousand diversions and excitements she +would find in revisiting the scenes of her childhood. It was no small +disappointment to find herself condemned to another night in camp; and +her first impulse was to blame Zoroaster. +</p> +<p> +In spite of her love for him, her strong and dominating temper often +chafed at his calmness, and resented the resolute superiority of his +intelligence; and then, being conscious that her own dignity suffered by +the storms of her temper, she was even more angry than before, with +herself, with him, with every one. But Zoroaster was as impassive as +marble, saving that now and then his brow flushed, and paled quickly; +and his words, if he spoke at all, had a chilled icy ring in them. +Sooner or later, Nehushta's passionate temper cooled, and she found him +the same as ever, devoted and gentle and loving; then her heart went out +to him anew, and all her being was filled with the love of him, even to +overflowing. +</p> +<p> +She had been disappointed now, and would speak to no one. She moved +still farther from the crowd of slaves and tent-pitchers, followed at a +respectful distance by her handmaidens, who whispered together as they +went; and again she stood still and looked westward. +</p> +<p> +As the sun neared the horizon, his low rays caught upon a raising cloud +of dust, small and distant as the smoke of a fire, in the plain towards +Babylon, but whirling quickly upwards. Nehushta's eye rested on the +far-off point, and she raised one hand to shade her sight. She +remembered how, when she was a girl, she had watched the line of that +very road from the palace above, and had seen a cloud of dust arise out +of a mere speck, as a body of horsemen galloped into view. There was no +mistaking what it was. A troop of horse were coming—perhaps the king +himself. Instinctively she turned and looked for Zoroaster, and started, +as she saw him standing at a little distance from her, with folded arms, +his eyes bent on the horizon. She moved towards him in sudden +excitement. +</p> +<p> +"What is it?" she asked in low tones. +</p> +<p> +"It is the Great King—may he live for ever!" answered Zoroaster. "None +but he would ride so fast along the royal road." +</p> +<p> +For a moment they stood side by side, watching the dust cloud; and as +they stood, Nehushta's hand stole out from her cloak and touched the +warrior's arm, softly, with a trembling of the fingers, as though she +timidly sought something she would not ask for. Zoroaster turned his +head and saw that her eyes were moistened with tears; he understood, but +he would not take her hand, for there were many slaves near, besides +Nehushta's kinsfolk, and he would not have had them see; but he looked +on her tenderly, and on a sudden, his eyes grew less sad, and the light +returned in them. +</p> +<p> +"My beloved!" he said softly. +</p> +<p> +"I was wrong, Zoroaster—forgive me," she murmured. She suffered him to +lead her to her tent, which was already pitched; and he left her there, +sitting at the door and watching his movements, while he called together +his men and drew them up in a compact rank by the roadside, to be ready +to salute the king. +</p> +<p> +Nearer and nearer came the cloud; and the red glow turned to purple and +the sun went out of sight; and still it came nearer, that whirling +cloud-canopy of fine powdered dust, rising to right and left of the road +in vast round puffs, and hanging overhead like the smoke from some great +moving fire. Then, from beneath it, there seemed to come a distant roar +like thunder, rising and falling on the silent air, but rising ever +louder; and a dark gleam of polished bronze, with something more purple +than the purple sunset, took shape slowly; then with the low roar of +sound, came now and then, and then more often, the clank of harness and +arms; till at last, the whole stamping, rushing, clanging crowd of +galloping horsemen seemed to emerge suddenly from the dust in a +thundering charge, the very earth shaking beneath their weight, and the +whole air vibrating to the tremendous shock of pounding hoofs and the +din of clashing brass. +</p> +<p> +A few lengths before the serried ranks rode one man alone,—a square +figure, wrapped in a cloak of deeper and richer purple than any worn by +the ordinary nobles, sitting like a rock upon a great white horse. As he +came up, Zoroaster and his fourscore men threw up their hands. +</p> +<p> +"Hail, king of kings! Hail, and live for ever!" they cried, and as one +man, they prostrated themselves upon their faces on the grass by the +roadside. +</p> +<p> +Darius drew rein suddenly, bringing his steed from his full gallop to +his haunches in an instant. After him the rushing riders threw up their +right hands as a signal to those behind; and with a deafening +concussion, as of the ocean breaking at once against a wall of rock, +those matchless Persian horsemen halted in a body in the space of a few +yards, their steeds plunging wildly, rearing to their height and +struggling on the curb; but helpless to advance against the strong hands +that held them. The blossom and flower of all the Persian nobles rode +there,—their purple mantles flying with the wild motion, their bronze +cuirasses black in the gathering twilight, their bearded faces dark and +square beneath their gilded helmets. +</p> +<p> +"I am Darius, the king of kings, on whom ye call," cried the king, whose +steed now stood like a marble statue, immovable in the middle of the +road. "Rise, speak and fear nothing,—unless ye speak lies." +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster rose to his feet, then bent low, and taking a few grains of +dust from the roadside, touched his mouth with his hand and let the dust +fall upon his forehead. +</p> +<p> +"Hail, and live for ever! I am thy servant, Zoroaster, who was captain +over the fortress and treasury of Ecbatana. According to thy word I have +brought the kinsfolk of Jehoiakim, king of Judah,—chief of whom is +Nehushta, the princess. I heard that thou wast absent from Shushan, and +here I have waited for thy coming. I also sent thee messengers to +announce that Daniel, surnamed Belteshazzar, who was Satrap of Media +from the time of Cambyses, is dead; and I have buried him fittingly in a +new tomb in the garden of the palace of Ecbatana." +</p> +<p> +Darius, quick and impulsive in every thought and action, sprang to the +ground as Zoroaster finished speaking, and coming to him, took both his +hands and kissed him on both cheeks. +</p> +<p> +"What thou hast done is well done,—I know thee of old. Auramazda is +with thee. He is also with me. By his grace I have slain the rebels at +Babylon. They spoke lies, so I slew them. Show me Nehushta, the daughter +of the kings of Judah." +</p> +<p> +"I am thy servant. The princess is at hand," answered Zoroaster; but as +he spoke, he turned pale to the lips. +</p> +<p> +By this time it had grown dark, and the moon, just past the full, had +not yet risen from behind the mound of the fortress. The slaves brought +torches of mingled wax and fir-gum, and their black figures shone +strangely in the red glare, as they pressed toward the door of +Nehushta's tent, lighting the way for the king. +</p> +<p> +Darius strode quickly forward, his gilded harness clanging as he walked, +the strong flaring light illuminating his bold dark features. Under the +striped curtain, drawn up to form the entrance of the tent, stood +Nehushta. She had thrown aside her veil and her women had quickly placed +upon her head the linen tiara, where a single jewel shown like a star in +the white folds. Her thick black hair fell in masses upon her shoulders, +and her mantle was thrown back, displaying the grand proportions of her +figure, clad in tunic and close-fitting belt. As the king came near, +she kneeled and prostrated herself before him, touching her forehead to +the ground, and waiting for him to speak. +</p> +<p> +He stood still a full minute and his eyes flashed fire, as he looked on +her crouching figure, in very pride that so queenly a woman should be +forced to kneel at his feet—but more in sudden admiration of her +marvellous beauty. Then he bent down, and took her hand and raised her +to her feet. She sprang up, and faced him with glowing cheeks and +flashing eyes; and as she stood she was nearly as tall as he. +</p> +<p> +"I would not that a princess of thy line kneeled before me," said he; +and in his voice there was a strange touch of softness. "Wilt thou let +me rest here awhile before I go up to Shushan? I am weary of riding and +thirsty from the road." +</p> +<p> +"Hail, king of the world! I am thy servant. Rest thee and refresh thee +here," answered Nehushta, drawing back into the tent. The king beckoned +to Zoroaster to follow him and went in. +</p> +<p> +Darius sat upon the carved folding-chair that stood in the midst of the +tent by the main pole, and eagerly drained the huge golden goblet of +Shiraz wine which Zoroaster poured for him. Then he took off his +headpiece, and his thick, coarse hair fell in a mass of dark curls to +his neck, like the mane of a black lion. He breathed a long breath as of +relief and enjoyment of well-earned repose, and leaned back in his +chair, letting his eyes rest on Nehushta's face as she stood before him +looking down to the ground. Zoroaster remained on one side, holding the +replenished goblet in his hand, in case the king's thirst were not +assuaged by a single draught. +</p> +<p> +"Thou art fair, daughter of Jerusalem," said the king presently. "I +remember thy beauty, for I saw thee in Ecbatana. I sent for thee and thy +kinsfolk that I might do thee honour; and I will also fulfil my words. I +will take thee to be my wife." +</p> +<p> +Darius spoke quietly, in his usual tone of absolute determination. But +if the concentrated fury of a thousand storms had suddenly broken loose +in the very midst of the tent, the effect could not have been more +terrible on his hearers. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta's face flushed suddenly, and for a moment she trembled in every +joint; then she fell on her knees, prostrate before the king's feet, all +the wealth of her splendid hair falling loose about her. Darius sat +still, as though watching the result of his speech. He might have sat +long, but in an instant, Zoroaster sprang between the king and the +kneeling woman; and the golden goblet he had held rolled across the +thick carpet on the ground, while the rich red wine ran in a slow stream +towards the curtains of the door. His face was livid and his eyes like +coals of blue fire, his fair locks and his long golden beard caught the +torchlight and shone about him like a glory, as he stood up to his grand +height and faced the king. Darius never quailed nor moved; his look met +Zoroaster's with fearless boldness. Zoroaster spoke first, in low +accents of concentrated fury: +</p> +<p> +"Nehushta the princess is my betrothed bride. Though thou wert king of +the stars as well as king of the earth, thou shalt not have her for thy +wife." +</p> +<p> +Darius smiled, not scornfully, an honest smile of amusement, as he +stared at the wrathful figure of the northern man before him. +</p> +<p> +"I am the king of kings," he answered. "I will marry this princess of +Judah to-morrow, and thee I will crucify upon the highest turret of +Shushan, because thou speakest lies when thou sayest I shall not marry +her." +</p> +<p> +"Fool! tempt not thy God! Threaten not him who is stronger than thou, +lest he slay thee with his hands where thou sittest." Zoroaster's voice +sounded low and distinct as the knell of relentless fate, and his hand +went out towards the king's throat. +</p> +<p> +Until this moment, Darius had sat in his indifferent attitude, smiling +carelessly, though never taking his eye from his adversary. Brave as the +bravest, he scorned to move until he was attacked, and he would have +despised the thought of calling to his guards. But when Zoroaster's hand +went out to seize him, he was ready. With a spring like a tiger, he flew +at the strong man's throat, and sought to drag him down, striving to +fasten his grip about the collar of his cuirass, but Zoroaster slipped +his hand quickly under his adversary's, his sleeve went back and his +long white arm ran like a fetter of steel about the king's neck, while +his other hand gripped him by the middle; so they held each other like +wrestlers, one arm above the shoulder and one below, and strove with all +their might. +</p> +<p> +The king was short, but in his thick-set broad shoulders and knotted +arms there lurked the strength of a bull and the quickness of a tiger. +Zoroaster had the advantage, for his right arm was round Darius's neck, +but while one might count a score, neither moved a hairbreadth, and the +blue veins stood out like cords on the tall man's arm. The fiery might +of the southern prince was matched against the stately strength of the +fair northerner, whose face grew as white as death, while the king's +brow was purple with the agony of effort. They both breathed hard +between their clenched teeth, but neither uttered a word. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta had leaped to her feet in terror at the first sign of the +coming strife, but she did not cry out, nor call in the slaves or +guards. She stood, holding the tent-pole with one hand, and gathering +her mantle to her breast with the other, gazing in absolute fascination +at the fearful life and death struggle, at the unspeakable and +tremendous strength so silently exerted by the two men before her. +</p> +<p> +Suddenly they moved and swayed. Darius had attempted to trip Zoroaster +with one foot, but slipping on the carpet wet with wine, had been bent +nearly double to the ground; then by a violent effort, he regained his +footing. But the great exertion had weakened his strength. Nehushta +thought a smile nickered on Zoroaster's pale face and his flashing dark +blue eyes met hers for a moment, and then the end began. Slowly, and by +imperceptible degrees, Zoroaster forced the king down before him, +doubling him backwards with irresistible strength, till it seemed as +though bone and sinew and muscle must be broken and torn asunder in the +desperate resistance. Then, at last, when his head almost touched the +ground, Darius groaned and his limbs relaxed. Instantly Zoroaster threw +him on his back and kneeled with his whole weight upon his chest,—the +gilded scales of the corselet cracking beneath the burden, and he held +the king's hands down on either side, pinioned to the floor. Darius +struggled desperately twice and then lay quite still. Zoroaster gazed +down upon him with blazing eyes. +</p> +<p> +"Thou who wouldst crucify me upon Shushan," he said through his teeth. +"I will slay thee here even as thou didst slay Smerdis. Hast thou +anything to say? Speak quickly, for thy hour is come." +</p> +<p> +Even in the extremity of his agony, vanquished and at the point of +death, Darius was brave, as brave men are, to the very last. He would +indeed have called for help now, but there was no breath in him. He +still gazed fearlessly into the eyes of his terrible conqueror. His +voice came in a hoarse whisper. +</p> +<p> +"I fear not death. Slay on if thou wilt—thou—hast—conquered." +</p> +<p> +Nehushta had come near. She trembled now that the fight was over, and +looked anxiously to the heavy curtains of the tent-door. +</p> +<p> +"Tell him," she whispered to Zoroaster, "that you will spare him if he +will do no harm to you, nor to me." +</p> +<p> +"Spare him!" echoed Zoroaster scornfully. "He is almost dead now—why +should I spare him?" +</p> +<p> +"For my sake, beloved," answered Nehushta, with a sudden and passionate +gesture of entreaty. "He is the king—he speaks truth; if he says he +will not harm you, trust him." +</p> +<p> +"If I slay thee not, swear thou wilt not harm me nor Nehushta," said +Zoroaster, removing one knee from the chest of his adversary. +</p> +<p> +"By the name of Auramazda," gasped Darius, "I will not harm thee nor +her." +</p> +<p> +"It is well," said Zoroaster. "I will let thee go. And as for taking her +to be thy wife, thou mayest ask her if she will wed thee," he added. He +rose and helped the king to his feet. Darius shook himself and breathed +hard for a few minutes. He felt his limbs as a man might do who had +fallen from his horse, and then he sat down upon the chair, and broke +into a loud laugh. +</p> +<p> +Darius was well known to all Persia and Media before the events of the +last two months, and such was his reputation for abiding by his promise +that he was universally trusted by those about him. Zoroaster had known +him also, and he remembered his easy familiarity and love of jesting, so +that even when he held the king at such vantage that he might have +killed him by a little additional pressure of his weight, he felt not +the least hesitation in accepting his promise of safety. But remembering +what a stake had been played for in the desperate issue, he could not +join in the king's laugh. He stood silently apart, and looked at +Nehushta who leaned back against the tent-pole in violent agitation; her +hands wringing each other beneath her long sleeves, and her eyes turning +from the king to Zoroaster, and back again to the king, in evident +distress and fear. +</p> +<p> +"Thou hast a mighty arm, Zoroaster," cried Darius, as his laughter +subsided, "and thou hadst well-nigh made an end of the Great King and of +Persia, Media, Babylon and Egypt in thy grip." +</p> +<p> +"Let the king pardon his servant," answered Zoroaster, "if his knee was +heavy and his hand strong. Had not the king slipped upon the spilt wine, +his servant would have been thrown down." +</p> +<p> +"And thou wouldst have been crucified at dawn," added Darius, laughing +again. "It is well for thee that I am Darius and not Cambyses, or thou +wouldst not be standing there before me while my guards are gossiping +idly in the road. Give me a cup of wine since thou hast spared my life!" +Again the king laughed as though his sides would break. Zoroaster +hastily filled another goblet and offered it, kneeling before the +monarch. Darius paused before he took the cup, and looked at the +kneeling warrior's pale proud face. Then he spoke and his voice dropped +to a less mirthful key, as he laid his hand on Zoroaster's shoulder. +</p> +<p> +"I love thee, prince," he said, "because thou art stronger than I; and +as brave and more merciful. Therefore shalt thou stand ever at my right +hand and I will trust thee with my life in thy hand. And in pledge +hereunto I put my own chain of gold about thy neck, and I drink this cup +to thee; and whosoever shall harm a hair of thine head shall perish in +torments." +</p> +<p> +The king drank; and Zoroaster, overcome with genuine admiration of the +great soul that could so easily forgive so dire an offence, bent and +embraced the king's knees in token of adherence, and as a seal of that +friendship which was never to be broken until death parted the two men +asunder. +</p> +<p> +Then they arose, and at Zoroaster's order, the princess's litter was +brought, and leaving the encampment to follow after them, they went up +to the palace. Nehushta was borne between the litters of her women and +her slaves on foot, but Zoroaster mounted his horse and rode slowly and +in silence by the right side of the Great King. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0017" id="h2HCH0017"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER VI. +</h2> +<p> +Athwart the gleaming colonnades of the eastern balcony, the early +morning sun shone brightly, and all the shadows of the white marble +cornices and capitals and jutting frieze work were blue with the +reflection of the cloudless sky. The swallows now and then shot in under +the overhanging roof and flew up and down the covered terrace; then with +a quick rush, they sped forth again into the dancing sunshine with clean +sudden sweep, as when a sharp sword is whirled in the air. Far below, +the soft mist of the dawn still lay upon the city, whence the distant +cries of the water-carriers and fruitsellers came echoing up from the +waking streets, the call of the women to one another from the housetops, +and now and then the neighing of a horse far out upon the meadows; while +the fleet swallows circled over all in swift wide curves, with a silvery +fresh stream of unceasing twittering music. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster paced the balcony alone. He was fully armed, with his helmet +upon his head; the crest of the winged wheels was replaced by the ensign +Darius had chosen for himself,—the half-figure of a likeness of the +king with long straight wings on either side, of wrought gold and very +fine workmanship. The long purple mantle hung to his heels and the royal +chain of gold was about his neck. As he walked the gilded leather of his +shoes was reflected in the polished marble pavement and he trod +cautiously, for the clean surface was slippery as the face of a mirror. +At one end of the terrace a stairway led down to the lower story of the +palace, and at the other end a high square door was masked by a heavy +curtain of rich purple and gold stuff, that fell in thick folds to the +glassy floor. Each time his walk brought him to this end Zoroaster +paused, as though expecting that some one should come out. But as it +generally happens when a man is waiting for something or some one that +the object or person appears unexpectedly, so it occurred that as he +turned back from the staircase towards the curtain, he saw that some one +had already advanced half the length of the balcony to meet him—and it +was not the person for whom he was looking. +</p> +<p> +At first, he was dazzled for a moment, but his memory served him +instantly and he recognised the face and form of a woman he had known +and often seen before. She was not tall, but so perfectly proportioned +that it was impossible to wish that she were taller. Her close tunic of +palest blue, bordered with a gold embroidery at the neck, betrayed the +matchless symmetry of her figure, the unspeakable grace of development +of a woman in the fullest bloom of beauty. From her knees to her feet, +her under tunic showed the purple and white bands that none but the king +might wear, and which even for the queen was an undue assumption of the +royal insignia. But Zoroaster did not look at her dress, nor at her +mantle of royal sea-purple, nor at the marvellous white hands that held +together a written scroll. His eyes rested on her face, and he stood +still where he was. +</p> +<p> +He knew those straight and perfect features, not large nor heavy, but of +such rare mould and faultless type as man has not seen since, neither +will see. The perfect curve of the fresh mouth; the white forward chin +with its sunk depression in the midst, the deep-set, blue eyes and the +straight pencilled brows; the broad smooth forehead and the tiny ear +half hidden in the glory of sun-golden hair; the milk-white skin just +tinged with the faint rose-light that never changed or reddened in heat +or cold, in anger or in joy—he knew them all; the features of royal +Cyrus made soft and womanly in substance, but unchanging still and +faultlessly cold in his great daughter Atossa, the child of kings, the +wife of kings, the mother of kings. +</p> +<p> +The heavy curtains had fallen together behind her, and she came forward +alone. She had seen Zoroaster before he had seen her, and she moved on +without showing any surprise, the heels of her small golden shoes +clicking sharply on the polished floor. Zoroaster remained standing for +a moment, and then, removing his helmet in salutation, went to one side +of the head of the staircase and waited respectfully for the queen to +pass. As she came on, passing alternately through the shadow cast by the +columns, and the sunlight that blazed between, her advancing figure +flashed with a new illumination at every step. She made as though she +were going straight on, but as she passed over the threshold to the +staircase, she suddenly stopped and turned half round, and looked +straight at Zoroaster. +</p> +<p> +"Thou art Zoroaster," she said in a smooth and musical voice, like the +ripple of a clear stream flowing through summer meadows. +</p> +<p> +"I am Zoroaster, thy servant," he answered, bowing his head. He spoke +very coldly. +</p> +<p> +"I remember thee well," said the queen, lingering by the head of the +staircase. "Thou art little changed, saving that thou art stronger, I +should think, and more of a soldier than formerly." +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster stood turning his polished helmet in his hands, but he +answered nothing; he cared little for the queen's praises. But she, it +seemed, was desirous of pleasing him in proportion as he was less +anxious to be pleased, for she turned again and walked forward upon the +terrace. +</p> +<p> +"Come into the sunlight—the morning air is cold," she said, "I would +speak with thee awhile." +</p> +<p> +A carved chair stood in a corner of the balcony. Zoroaster moved it into +the sunshine, and Atossa sat down, smiling her thanks to him, while he +stood leaning against the balustrade,—a magnificent figure as the light +caught his gilded harness and gold neckchain, and played on his long +fair beard and nestled in the folds of his purple mantle. +</p> +<p> +"Tell me—you came last night?" she asked, spreading her dainty hands in +the sunshine as though to warm them. She never feared the sun, for he +was friendly to her nativity and never seemed to scorch her fair skin +like that of meaner women. +</p> +<p> +"Thy servant came last night," answered the prince. +</p> +<p> +"Bringing Nehushta and the other Hebrews?" added the queen. +</p> +<p> +"Even so." +</p> +<p> +"Tell me something of this Nehushta," said Atossa. She had dropped into +a more familiar form of speech. But Zoroaster was careful of his words +and never allowed his language to relapse from the distant form of +address of a subject to his sovereign. +</p> +<p> +"The queen knoweth her. She was here as a young child a few years +since," he replied. He chose to let Atossa ask questions for all the +information she needed. +</p> +<p> +"It is so long ago," she said, with a little sigh. "Is she fair?" +</p> +<p> +"Nay, she is dark, after the manner of the Hebrews." +</p> +<p> +"And the Persians too," she interrupted. +</p> +<p> +"She is very beautiful," continued Zoroaster. "She is very tall." Atossa +looked up quickly with a smile. She was not tall herself, with all her +Beauty. +</p> +<p> +"You admire tall women?" +</p> +<p> +"Yes," said Zoroaster calmly—well knowing what he said. He did not wish +to flatter the queen; and besides he knew her too well to do so if he +wished to please her. She was one of those women who are not accustomed +to doubt their own superiority over the rest of their sex. +</p> +<p> +"Then you admire this Hebrew princess?" said she, and paused for an +answer. But her companion was as cold and calm as she. Seeing himself +directly pressed by a suspicion, he changed his tactics and flattered +Atossa for the sake of putting a stop to her questions. +</p> +<p> +"Height is not of itself beauty," he answered with a courteous smile. +"There is a kind of beauty which no height can improve,—a perfection +which needs not to be set high for all men to acknowledge it." +</p> +<p> +The queen simply took no notice of the compliment, but it had its +desired effect, for she changed the tone of her talk a little, speaking +more seriously. +</p> +<p> +"Where is she? I will go and see her," she said. +</p> +<p> +"She rested last night in the upper chambers in the southern part of the +palace. Thy servant will bid her come if it be thy desire." +</p> +<p> +"Presently, presently," answered the queen. "It is yet early, and she +was doubtless weary of the journey." +</p> +<p> +There was a pause. Zoroaster looked down at the beautiful queen as she +sat beside him, and wondered whether she had changed; and as he gazed, +he fell to comparing her beauty with Nehushta's, and his glance grew +more intent than he had meant it should be, so that Atossa looked up +suddenly and met his eyes resting on her face. +</p> +<p> +"It is long since we have met, Zoroaster," she said quickly. "Tell me of +your life in that wild fortress. You have prospered in your profession +of arms—you wear the royal chain." She put up her hand and touched the +links as though to feel them. "Indeed it is very like the chain Darius +wore when he went to Babylon the other day." She paused a moment as +though trying to recall something; then continued: "Yes—now I think of +it, he had no chain when he came back. It is his—of course—why has he +given it to you?" Her tones had a tinge of uncertainty in the +question,—half imperious, as demanding an answer, half persuading, as +though not sure the answer would be given. Zoroaster remembered that +intonation of her sweet voice, and he smiled in his beard. +</p> +<p> +"Indeed," he answered, "the Great King who liveth for ever, put this +chain about my neck with his own hands last night, when he halted by the +roadside, as a reward, I presume, for certain qualities he believeth his +servant Zoroaster to possess." +</p> +<p> +"Qualities—what qualities?" +</p> +<p> +"Nay, the queen cannot expect me to sing faithfully my own praises. +Nevertheless, I am ready to die for the Great King. He knoweth that I +am. May he live for ever!" +</p> +<p> +"It may be that one of the qualities was the successful performance of +the extremely difficult task you have lately accomplished," said Atossa, +with a touch of scorn. +</p> +<p> +"A task?" repeated Zoroaster. +</p> +<p> +"Yes—have you not brought a handful of Hebrew women all the way from +Ecbatana to Shushan, through numberless dangers and difficulties, safe +and sound, and so carefully prudent of their comfort that they are not +even weary, nor have they once hungered or thirsted by the way, nor lost +the smallest box of perfume, nor the tiniest of their golden hair-pins? +Surely you have deserved to have a royal chain hung about your neck and +to be called the king's friend." +</p> +<p> +"The reward was doubtless greater than my desert. It was no great feat +of arms that I had to perform; and yet, in these days a man may leave +Media under one king, and reach Shushan under another. The queen knoweth +better than any one what sudden changes may take place in the empire," +answered Zoroaster, looking calmly into her face as he stood; and she +who had been the wife of Cambyses and the wife of the murdered +Gomata-Smerdis, and who was now the wife of Darius, looked down and was +silent, turning over in her beautiful hands the sealed scroll she bore. +</p> +<p> +The sun had risen higher while they talked, and his rays were growing +hot in the clear air. The mist had lifted from the city below, and all +the streets and open places were alive with noisy buyers and sellers, +whose loud talking and disputing came up in a continuous hum to the +palace on the hill, like the drone of a swarm of bees. The queen rose +from her seat. +</p> +<p> +"It is too warm here," she said, and she once more moved toward the +stairway. Zoroaster followed her respectfully, still holding his helmet +in his hand. Atossa did not speak till she reached the threshold. Then, +as Zoroaster bowed low before her, she paused and looked at him with her +clear, deep-blue eyes. +</p> +<p> +"You have grown very formal in four years," she said softly. "You used +to be more outspoken and less of a courtier. I am not changed—we must +be friends as we were formerly." +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster hesitated a moment before he answered: +</p> +<p> +"I am the Great King's man," he said slowly. "I am, therefore, also the +queen's servant." +</p> +<p> +Atossa raised her delicate eyebrows a little and a shade of annoyance +passed for the first time over her perfect face, which gave her a look +of sternness. +</p> +<p> +"I am the queen," she said coldly. "The king may take other wives, but I +am the queen. Take heed that you be indeed my servant." Then, as she +gathered her mantle about her and put one foot upon the stairs, she +touched his shoulder gently with the tips of her fingers and added with +a sudden smile, "And I will be your friend." So she passed down the +stairs out of sight, leaving Zoroaster alone. +</p> +<p> +Slowly he paced the terrace again, reflecting profoundly upon his +situation. Indeed he had no small cause for anxiety; it was evident that +the queen suspected his love for Nehushta, and he was more than half +convinced that there were reasons why such an affection would inevitably +meet with her disapproval. In former days, before she was married to +Cambyses, and afterwards, before Zoroaster had been sent into Media, +Atossa had shown so marked a liking for him, that a man more acquainted +with the world, would have guessed that she loved him. He had not +suspected such a thing, but with a keen perception of character, he had +understood that beneath the beautiful features and the frank gentleness +of the young princess, there lurked a profound intelligence, an +unbending ambition and a cold selfishness without equal; he had +mistrusted her, but he had humoured her caprices and been in truth a +good friend to her, without in the least wishing to accept her +friendship for himself in return. He was but a young captain of five +hundred then, although he was the favourite of the court; but his strong +arm was dreaded as well as the cutting force of his replies when +questioned, and no word of the court gossip had therefore reached his +ears concerning Atossa's admiration for him. It was, moreover, so +evident that he cared nothing for her beyond the most unaffected +friendliness, that her disappointment in not moving his heart was a +constant source of satisfaction to her enemies. There had reigned in +those days a great and unbridled license in the court, and the fact of +the daughter of Cyrus loving and being loved by the handsomest of the +king's guards, would not of itself have attracted overmuch notice. But +the evident innocence of Zoroaster in the whole affair, and the masterly +fashion in which Atossa concealed her anger, if she felt any, caused the +matter to be completely forgotten as soon as Zoroaster left Shushan, and +events had, since then, succeeded each other too rapidly to give the +courtiers leisure for gossiping about old scandals. The isolation in +which Gomata had lived during the seven months while he maintained the +popular impression that he was not Gomata-Smerdis, but Smerdis the +brother of Cambyses, had broken up the court; and the strong, manly +character of Darius had checked the license of the nobles suddenly, as a +horse-breaker brings up an unbroken colt by flinging the noose about his +neck. The king permitted that the ancient custom of marrying as many as +four wives should be maintained, and he himself soon set an example by +so doing; but he had determined that the whole corrupt fabric of court +life should be shattered at one blow; and with his usual intrepid +disregard of consequences and his iron determination to maintain his +opinions, he had suffered no contradiction of his will. He had married +Atossa,—in the first place, because she was the most beautiful woman in +Persia; and secondly, because he comprehended her great intelligence +and capacity for affairs, and believed himself able to make use of her +at his pleasure. As for Atossa herself, she had not hesitated a moment +in concurring in the marriage,—she had ruled her former husbands, and +she would rule Darius in like manner, she thought, to her own complete +aggrandisement and in the face of all rivals. As yet, the king had taken +no second wife, although he looked with growing admiration upon the +maiden Artystoné, who was then but fifteen years of age, the youngest +daughter of Cyrus and own sister to Atossa. +</p> +<p> +All this Zoroaster knew, and he recognised, also from the meeting he had +just had with the queen, that she was desirous of maintaining her +friendship with himself. But since the violent scene of the previous +night, he had determined to be the king's man in truest loyalty, and he +feared lest Atossa's plans might, before long, cross her husband's. +Therefore he accepted her offer of friendship coldly, and treated her +with the most formal courtesy. On the other hand, he understood well +enough that if she resented his manner of acting towards her, and +ascertained that he really loved Nehushta, it would be in her power to +produce difficulties and complications which he would have every cause +for fearing. She would certainly discover the king's admiration for +Nehushta. Darius was a man almost incapable of concealment; with whom to +think was to act instantly and without hesitation. He generally acted +rightly, for his instincts were noble and kingly, and his heart as +honest and open as the very light of day. He said what he thought and +instantly fulfilled his words. He hated a lie as poison, and the only +untruth he had ever been guilty of was told when, in order to gain +access to the dwelling of the false Smerdis, he had declared to the +guards that he brought news of importance from his father. He had +justified this falsehood by the most elaborate and logical apology to +his companions, the six princes, and had explained that he only lied for +the purpose of saving Persia; and when the lot fell to himself to assume +the royal authority, he fulfilled most amply every promise he had given +of freeing the country from tyranny, religious despotism and, generally, +from what he termed "lies." As for the killing of Gomata-Smerdis, it was +an act of public justice, approved by all sensible persons as soon as it +was known by what frauds that impostor had seized the kingdom. +</p> +<p> +With regard to Atossa, Darius had abstained from asking her questions +about her seven months of marriage with the usurper. She must have known +well enough who the man was, but Darius understood her character well +enough to know that she would marry whomsoever she saw in the chief +place, and that her counsel and courage would be of inestimable +advantage to a ruler. She herself never mentioned the past events to the +king, knowing his hatred of lies on the one hand, and that on the other, +the plain truth would redound to her discredit. He had given her to +understand as much from the first, telling her that he took her for what +she was, and not for what she had been. Her mind was at rest about the +past, and as for the future, she promised herself her full share in her +husband's success, should he succeed, and unbounded liberty in the +choice of his successor, should he fail. +</p> +<p> +But all these considerations did not tend to clear Zoroaster's vision in +regard to his own future. He saw himself already placed in a position of +extreme difficulty between Nehushta and the king. On the other hand, he +dreaded lest he should before long fall into disgrace with the king on +account of Atossa's treatment of himself, or incur Atossa's displeasure +through the great favour he received from Darius. He knew the queen to +be an ambitious woman, capable of the wildest conceptions, and possessed +of the utmost skill for their execution. +</p> +<p> +He longed to see Nehushta and talk with her at once,—to tell her many +things and to warn her of many possibilities; above all, he desired to +discuss with her the scene of the previous night and the strangely +sudden determination the king had expressed to make her his wife. +</p> +<p> +But he could not leave his post. His orders had been to await the king +in the morning upon the eastern terrace; and there he must abide until +it pleased Darius to come forth; and he knew Nehushta would not venture +down into that part of the palace. He wondered that the king did not +come, and he chafed at the delay as he saw the sun rising higher and +higher, and the shadows deepening in the terrace. Weary of waiting he +sat down at last upon the chair where Atossa had rested, and folded his +hands over his sword-hilt,—resigning himself to the situation with the +philosophy of a trained soldier. +</p> +<p> +Sitting thus alone, he fell to dreaming. As he gazed out at the bright +sky, he forgot his life and his love, and all things of the present; and +his mind wandered away among the thoughts most natural and most +congenial to his profound intellect. His attention became fixed in the +contemplation of a larger dimension of intelligences,—the veil of +darkness parted a little, and for a time he saw clearly in the light of +a Greater Universe. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0018" id="h2HCH0018"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER VII. +</h2> +<p> +Atossa quitted the terrace where she had been talking with Zoroaster, in +the full intention of returning speedily, but as she descended the +steps, a plan formed itself in her mind, which she determined to put +into immediate execution. Instead, therefore, of pursuing her way into +the portico of the inner court, when she reached the foot of the +staircase, she turned into a narrow passage that led into a long +corridor, lighted only by occasional small openings in the wall. A +little door gave access to this covered way, and when she entered, she +closed it behind her, and tried to fasten it. But the bolt was rusty, +and in order to draw it, she laid down the scroll she carried, upon a +narrow stone seat by the side of the door; and then, with a strong +effort of both her small white hands, she succeeded in moving the lock +into its place. Then she turned quickly and hastened down the dusky +corridor. At the opposite end a small winding stair led upwards into +darkness. There were stains upon the lowest steps, just visible in the +half light. Atossa gathered up her mantle and her under tunic, and trod +daintily, with a look of repugnance on her beautiful face. The stains +were made by the blood of the false Smerdis, her last husband, slain in +that dark stairway by Darius, scarcely three months before. +</p> +<p> +Cautiously the queen felt her way upward till she reached a landing, +where a narrow aperture admitted a little light. Higher up there were +windows, and she looked carefully to her dress, and brushed away a +little dust that her mantle had swept from the wall in passing; and once +or twice, she looked back at the dark staircase with an expression of +something akin to disgust. At last she reached a door which opened upon +a terrace, much like the one where she had left Zoroaster a few moments +before, saving that the floor was less polished, and that the spaces +between the columns were half filled with hanging plants and creepers. +Upon the pavement at one end were spread rich carpets, and half a dozen +enormous cushions of soft-coloured silk were thrown negligently one upon +the other. Three doors, hung with curtains, opened upon the +balcony,—and near to the middle one, two slave-girls, clad in white, +crouched upon their heels and talked in an undertone. +</p> +<p> +Atossa stepped forward upon the marble, and the rustle of her dress and +the quick short sound of her heeled shoes, roused the two slave-girls to +spring to their feet. They did not know the queen, but they thought it +best to make a low obeisance, while their dark eyes endeavoured quickly +to scan the details of her dress, without exhibiting too much boldness. +Atossa beckoned to one of them to come to her, and smiled graciously as +the dark-skinned girl approached. +</p> +<p> +"Is not thy mistress Nehushta?" she inquired; but the girl looked +stupidly at her, not comprehending her speech. "Nehushta," repeated the +queen, pronouncing the name very distinctly with a questioning +intonation, and pointing to the curtained door. The slave understood +the name and the question, and quick as thought, she disappeared within, +leaving Atossa in some hesitation. She had not intended to send for the +Hebrew princess, for she thought it would be a greater compliment to let +Nehushta find her waiting; but since the barbarian slave had gone to +call her mistress, there was nothing to be done but to abide the result. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta, however, seemed in no hurry to answer the summons, for the +queen had ample time to examine the terrace, and to glance through the +hanging plants at the sunlit meadows and the flowing stream to +southward, before she heard steps behind the curtain, and saw it lifted +to allow the princess to pass. +</p> +<p> +The dark maiden was now fully refreshed and rested from the journey, and +she came forward to greet her guest in her tunic, without her mantle, a +cloud of soft white Indian gauze loosely pinned upon her black hair and +half covering her neck. Her bodice-like belt was of scarlet and gold, +and from one side there hung a rich-hilted knife of Indian steel in a +jewelled sheath. The long sleeves of her tunic were drawn upon her arms +into hundreds of minute folds, and where the delicate stuff hung in an +oblong lappet over her hands, there was fine needlework and embroidery +of gold. She moved easily, with a languid grace of secure motion; and +she bent her head a little as Atossa came quickly to meet her. +</p> +<p> +The queen's frank smile was on her face as she grasped both Nehushta's +hands in cordial welcome, and for a moment, the two women looked into +each other's eyes. Nehushta had made up her mind to hate Atossa from the +first, but she did not belong to that class of women who allow their +feelings to show themselves, and afterwards feel bound by the memory of +what they have shown. She, too, smiled most sweetly as she surveyed the +beautiful fair queen from beneath her long drooping lids, and examined +her appearance with all possible minuteness. She remembered her well +enough, but so warm was the welcome she received, that she almost +thought she had misjudged Atossa in calling her hard and cold. She drew +her guest to the cushions upon the carpets, and they sat down side by +side. +</p> +<p> +"I have been talking about you already this morning, my princess," began +Atossa, speaking at once in familiar terms, as though she were +conversing with an intimate friend. Nehushta was very proud; she knew +herself to be of a race as royal as Atossa, though now almost extinct; +and in answering, she spoke in the same manner as the queen; so that the +latter was inwardly amused at the self-confidence of the Hebrew +princess. +</p> +<p> +"Indeed?" said Nehushta, "there must be far more interesting things than +I in Shushan. I would have talked of you had I found any one to talk +with." +</p> +<p> +The queen laughed a little. +</p> +<p> +"As I was coming out this morning, I met an old friend of mine upon the +balcony before the king's apartment,—Zoroaster, the handsome captain. +We fell into conversation, how handsome he has grown since I saw him +last!" The queen watched Nehushta closely while affecting the greatest +unconcern, and she thought the shadows about the princess's eyes turned +a shade darker at the mention of the brilliant warrior. But Nehushta +answered calmly enough: +</p> +<p> +"He took the most excellent care of us. I should like to see him to-day, +to thank him for all he did. I was tired last night and must have seemed +ungrateful." +</p> +<p> +"What need is there of ever telling men we are grateful for what they do +for us?" returned the queen. "I should think there were not a noble in +the Great King's guard who would not give his right hand to take care of +you for a month, even if you never so much as noticed his existence." +</p> +<p> +Nehushta laughed lightly at the compliment. +</p> +<p> +"You honour me too much," she said, "but I suppose it is because most +women think as you do that men call us so ungrateful. I think you judge +from the standpoint of the queen, whereas I—" +</p> +<p> +"Whereas you look at things from the position of the beautiful princess, +who is worshipped for herself alone, and not for the bounty and favour +she may, or may not, dispense to her subjects." +</p> +<p> +"The queen is dispensing much bounty and favour to one of her subjects +at this very moment," answered Nehushta quietly, as though deprecating +further flattery. +</p> +<p> +"How glad you must be to have left that dreadful fortress at last!" +cried the queen sympathetically. "My father used to go there every +summer. I hated the miserable place, with those tiresome mountains and +those endless gardens without the least variety in them. You must be +very glad to have come here!" +</p> +<p> +"It is true," replied Nehushta, "I never ceased to dream of Shushan. I +love the great city, and the people, and the court. I thought sometimes +that I should have died of the weariness of Ecbatana. The winters were +unbearable!" +</p> +<p> +"You must learn to love us, too," said Atossa, very sweetly. "The Great +King wishes well to your race, and will certainly do much for your +country. There is, moreover, a kinsman of yours, who is coming soon, +expressly to confer with the king concerning the further rebuilding of +the temple and the city of Jerusalem." +</p> +<p> +"Zorobabel?" asked Nehushta, quickly. +</p> +<p> +"Yes—that is his name, I believe. Do you say Zerub-Ebel, or Zerub-Abel? +I know nothing of your language." +</p> +<p> +"His name is Zorob-Abel," answered Nehushta. "Oh, I wish he might +persuade the Great King to do something for my people! Your father would +have done so much if he had lived." +</p> +<p> +"Doubtless the Great King will do all that is possible for establishing +the Hebrews and promoting their welfare," said the queen; but a distant +look in her eyes showed that her thoughts were no longer concentrated on +the subject. "Your friend Zoroaster," she added presently, "could be of +great service to you and your cause, if he wished." +</p> +<p> +"I would that he were a Hebrew!" exclaimed Nehushta, with a little sigh, +which did not escape Atossa. +</p> +<p> +"Is he not? I always thought that he had secretly embraced your faith. +With his love of study and with his ideas, it seemed so natural." +</p> +<p> +"No," replied Nehushta, "he is not one of us, nor will he ever be. After +all, though, it is perhaps of little moment what one believes when one +is so just as he." +</p> +<p> +"I have never been able to understand the importance of religion," said +the beautiful queen, spreading her white hand upon the purple of her +mantle, and contemplating its delicate outline tenderly. "For my own +part, I am fond of the sacrifices and the music and the chants. I love +to see the priests go up to the altar, two and two, in their white +robes,—and then to see how they struggle to hold up the bullock's head, +so that his eyes may see the sun,—and how the red blood gushes out like +a beautiful fountain. Have you ever seen a great sacrifice?" +</p> +<p> +"Oh yes! I remember when I was quite a little girl, when Cambyses—I +mean—when the king came to the throne—it was magnificent!" Nehushta +was not used to hesitate in her speech, but as she recalled the day when +Cambyses was made king, it suddenly came over her that any reminiscences +of the past might be painful to the extraordinary woman by her side. But +Atossa showed no signs of being disturbed. On the contrary, she smiled +more sweetly than ever, though there was perhaps a slight affectation of +sadness in her voice as she answered: +</p> +<p> +"Do not fear to hurt me by referring to those times, dear princess. I am +accustomed to speak of them well enough. Yes, indeed I remember that +great day, with the bright sun shining upon the procession, and the cars +with four horses that they dedicated to the sun, and the milk-white +horse that they slaughtered upon the steps of the temple. How I cried +for him, poor beast! It seemed so cruel to sacrifice a horse! Even a few +black slaves would have been a more natural offering, or a couple of +Scythians." +</p> +<p> +"I remember," said Nehushta, somewhat relieved at the queen's tone. "Of +course I have now and then seen processions in Ecbatana, but Daniel +would not let me go to the temple. They say Ecbatana is very much +changed since the Great King has not gone there in summer. It is very +quiet—it is given over to horse-merchants and grain-sellers, and they +bring all the salted fish there from the Hyrcanian sea, so that some of +the streets smell horribly." +</p> +<p> +Atossa laughed at the description, more out of courtesy than because it +amused her. +</p> +<p> +"In my time," she answered, "the horse-market was in the meadow by the +road toward Zagros, and the fish-sellers were not allowed to come within +a farsang of the city. The royal nostrils were delicate. But everything +is changed—here, everywhere. We have had several—revolutions—religious +ones, I mean of course, and so many people have been killed that there is +a savour of death in the air. It is amazing how much trouble people will +give themselves about the question of sacrificing a horse to the sun, or +a calf to Auramazda, or an Ethiopian to Nabon or Ashtaroth! And these +Magians! They are really no more descendants of the priests in the Aryan +home than I am a Greek. Half of them are nearly black—they are Hindus +and speak Persian with an accent. They believe in a vast number of gods +of all sizes and descriptions, and they sing hymns, in which they say that +all these gods are the same. It is most confusing, and as the principal +part of their chief sacrifice consists in making themselves exceedingly +drunk with the detestable milkweed juice of which they are so fond, the +performance is disgusting. The Great King began by saying that if they +wished to sacrifice to their deities, they might do so, provided no one +could find them doing it; and if they wished to be drunk, they might be +drunk when and where they pleased; but that if they did the two together, +he would crucify every Magian in Persia. His argument was very amusing. +He said that a man who is drunk naturally speaks the truth, whereas a man +who sacrifices to false gods inevitably tells lies; wherefore a man who +sacrifices to false gods when he is drunk, runs the risk of telling lies +and speaking the truth at the same time, and is consequently a creature +revolting to logic, and must be immediately destroyed for the good of +the whole race of mankind." +</p> +<p> +Nehushta had listened with varying attention to the queen's account of +the religious difficulties in the kingdom, and she laughed at the +Megoeric puzzle by which Darius justified the death of the Magians. But +in her heart she longed to see Zoroaster, and was weary of entertaining +her royal guest. By way of diversion she clapped her hands, and ordered +the slaves who came at her summons to bring sweetmeats and sherbet of +crushed fruit and snow. +</p> +<p> +"Are you fond of hunting?" asked Atossa, delicately taking a little +piece of white fig-paste. +</p> +<p> +"I have never been allowed to hunt," answered Nehushta. "Besides, it +must be very tiring." +</p> +<p> +"I delight in it—the fig-paste is not so good as it used to be—there +is a new confectioner. Darius considered that the former one had +religious convictions involving the telling of lies—and this is the +result! We are fallen low indeed when we cannot eat a Magian's pastry! I +am passionately fond of hunting, but it is far from here to the desert +and the lions are scarce. Besides, the men who are fit for lion-hunting +are generally engaged in hunting their fellow-creatures." +</p> +<p> +"Does the Great King hunt?" inquired Nehushta, languidly sipping her +sherbet from a green jade goblet, as she lay among her cushions, +supporting herself upon one elbow. +</p> +<p> +"Whenever he has leisure. He will talk of nothing else to you—" +</p> +<p> +"Surely," interrupted Nehushta, with an air of perfect innocence, "I +shall not be so far honoured as that the Great King should talk with +me?" +</p> +<p> +Atossa raised her blue eyes and looked curiously at the dark princess. +She knew nothing of what had passed the night before, save that the king +had seen Nehushta for a few moments, but she knew his character well +enough to imagine that his frank and, as she thought, undignified manner +might have struck Nehushta even in that brief interview. The idea that +the princess was already deceiving her flashed across her mind. She +smiled more tenderly than ever, with a little added air of sadness that +gave her a wonderful charm. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, the Great King is very gracious to the ladies of the court," she +said. "You are so beautiful and so different from them all that he will +certainly talk long with you after the banquet this evening—when he has +drunk much wine." The last words were added with a most special +sweetness of tone. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta's face flushed a little as she drank more sherbet before she +answered. Then, letting her soft dark eyes rest, as though in +admiration, upon the queen's face, she spoke in a tone of gentle +deprecation: +</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Shall a man prefer the darkness of night to the + glories of risen day?</p> +<p> Or shall a man turn from the lilies to pluck the + lowly flower of the field?"</p> +</div></div> +<p> +"You know our poets, too?" exclaimed Atossa, pleased with the graceful +tone of the compliment, but still looking at Nehushta with curious eyes. +There was a self-possession about the Hebrew princess that she did not +like; it was as though some one had suddenly taken a quality of her own +and made it theirs and displayed it before her eyes. There was indeed +this difference, that while Atossa's calm and undisturbed manner was +generally real, Nehushta's was assumed, and she herself felt that, at +any moment, it might desert her at her utmost need. +</p> +<p> +"So you know our poets?" repeated the queen, and this time she laughed +lightly. "Indeed I fear the king will talk to you more than ever, for he +loves poetry, I daresay Zoroaster, too, has repeated many verses to you +in the winter evenings at Ecbatana. He used to know endless poetry when +he was a boy." +</p> +<p> +This time Nehushta looked at the queen, and wondered how she, who could +not be more than two or three and twenty years old, although now married +to her third husband, could speak of having known Zoroaster as a boy, +seeing that he was past thirty years of age. She turned the question +upon the queen. +</p> +<p> +"You must have seen Zoroaster very often before he left Shushan," she +said. "You know him so well." +</p> +<p> +"Yes—every one knew him. He was the favourite of the court, with his +beauty and his courage and his strange affection for that old—for the +old Hebrew prophet. That is why Cambyses sent them both away," added she +with a light laugh. "They were far too good, both of them, to be endured +among the doings of those times." +</p> +<p> +Atossa spoke readily enough of Cambyses. Nehushta wondered whether she +could be induced to speak of Smerdis. Her supposed ignorance of the true +nature of what had occurred in the last few months would permit her to +speak of the dead usurper with impunity. +</p> +<p> +"I suppose there have been great changes lately in the manners of the +court—during this last year," suggested Nehushta carelessly. She pulled +a raisin from the dry stem, and tried to peel it with her delicate +fingers. +</p> +<p> +"Indeed there have been changes," answered Atossa, calmly. "A great many +things that used to be tolerated will never be heard of now. On the +whole, the change has been rather in relation to religion than +otherwise. You will understand that in one year we have had three court +religions. Cambyses sacrificed to Ashtaroth—and I must say he made a +most appropriate choice of his tutelary goddess. Smerdis"—continued the +queen in measured tones and with the utmost calmness of manner—"Smerdis +devoted himself wholly to the worship of Indra, who appeared to be a +convenient association of all the most agreeable gods; and the Great +King now rules the earth by the grace of Auramazda. I, for my part, have +always inclined to the Hebrew conception of one God—perhaps that is +much the same as Auramazda, the All-Wise. What do you think?" +</p> +<p> +Nehushta smiled at the deft way in which the queen avoided speaking of +Smerdis by turning the conversation again to religious topics. But +fearing another lecture on the comparative merits of idolatry, human +sacrifice, and monotheism, she manifested very little interest in the +subject. +</p> +<p> +"I daresay it is the same. Zoroaster always says so, and that was the +one point that Daniel could never forgive him. The sun is coming through +those plants upon your head—shall we not have our cushions moved into +the shade at the other end?" She clapped her hands and rose languidly, +offering her hand to Atossa. But the queen sprang lightly to her feet. +</p> +<p> +"I have stayed too long," she said. "Come with me, dearest princess, and +we will go out into the orange gardens upon the upper terrace. Perhaps," +she added, adjusting the folds of her mantle, "we shall find Zoroaster +there, or some of the princes, or even the Great King himself. Or, +perhaps, it would amuse you to see where I live?" +</p> +<p> +Nehushta received her mantle from her slaves, and one of them brought +her a linen tiara in place of the gauze veil she had twisted about her +hair. But Atossa would not permit the change. +</p> +<p> +"It is too beautiful!" she cried enthusiastically. "So new! you must +really not change it." +</p> +<p> +She put her arm around Nehushta affectionately and led her towards the +door of the inner staircase. Then suddenly she paused, as though +recollecting herself. +</p> +<p> +"No," she said, "I will show you the way I came. It is shorter and you +should know it. It may be of use to you." +</p> +<p> +So they left the balcony by the little door that was almost masked by +one of the great pillars, and descended the dark stairs. Nehushta +detested every sort of bodily inconvenience, and inwardly wished the +queen had not changed her mind, but had led her by an easier way. +</p> +<p> +"It is not far," said the queen, descending rapidly in front of her. +</p> +<p> +"It is dreadfully steep," objected Nehushta, "and I can hardly see my +way at all. How many steps are there?" +</p> +<p> +"Only a score more," answered the queen's voice, farther down. She +seemed to be hurrying, but Nehushta had no intention of going any +faster, and carefully groped her way. As she began to see a glimmer of +light at the last turn of the winding stair, she heard loud voices in +the corridor below. With the cautious instinct of her race, she paused +and listened. The hard, quick tones of an angry man dominated the rest. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0019" id="h2HCH0019"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER VIII. +</h2> +<p> +Zoroaster had sat for nearly an hour, his eyes fixed on the blue sky, +his thoughts wandering in contemplation of things greater and higher +than those of earth, when he was roused by the measured tread of armed +men marching in a distant room. In an instant he stood up, his helmet on +his head,—the whole force of military habit bringing him back suddenly +to the world of reality. In a moment the same heavy curtain, from under +which Atossa had issued two hours before, was drawn aside, and a double +file of spearmen came out upon the balcony, ranging themselves to right +and left with well-drilled precision. A moment more, and the king +himself appeared, walking alone, in his armour and winged helmet, his +left hand upon the hilt of his sword, his splendid mantle hanging to the +ground behind his shoulders. As he came between the soldiers, he walked +more slowly, and his dark, deep-set eyes seemed to scan the bearing and +accoutrements of each separate spearman. It was rarely indeed, in those +early days of his power, that he laid aside his breastplate for the +tunic, or his helmet for the tiara and royal crown. In his whole air and +gait the character of the soldier dominated, and the look of the +conqueror was already in his face. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster strode forward a few paces, and stood still as the king caught +sight of him, preparing to prostrate himself, according to the ancient +custom. But Darius checked him by a gesture; turning half round, he +dismissed the guard, who filed back through the door as they had come, +and the curtain fell behind them. +</p> +<p> +"I like not these elaborate customs," said the king. "A simple +salutation, the hand to the lips and forehead—it is quite enough. A man +might win a battle if he had all the time that it takes him to fall down +at my feet and rise up again, twenty times in a day." +</p> +<p> +As the king's speech seemed to require no answer, Zoroaster stood +silently waiting for his orders. Darius walked to the balustrade and +stood in the full glare of the sun for a moment, looking out. Then he +came back again. +</p> +<p> +"The town seems to be quiet this morning," he said. "How long did the +queen tarry here talking with thee, Zoroaster?" +</p> +<p> +"The queen talked with her servant for the space of half an hour," +answered Zoroaster, without hesitation, though he was astonished at the +suddenness and directness of the question. +</p> +<p> +"She is gone to see thy princess," continued the king. +</p> +<p> +"The queen told her servant it was yet too early to see Nehushta," +remarked the warrior. +</p> +<p> +"She is gone to see her, nevertheless," asserted Darius, in a tone of +conviction. "Now, it stands in reason that when the most beautiful woman +in the world has been told that another woman is come who is more +beautiful than she, she will not lose a moment in seeing her." He eyed +Zoroaster curiously for a moment, and his thick black beard did not +altogether hide the smile on his face. "Come," he added, "we shall find +the two together." +</p> +<p> +The king led the way and Zoroaster gravely followed. They passed down the +staircase by which the queen had gone, and entering the low passage, came +to the small door which she had bolted behind her with so much difficulty. +The king pushed his weight against it, but it was still fastened. +</p> +<p> +"Thou art stronger than I, Zoroaster," he said, with a deep laugh. "Open +the door." +</p> +<p> +The young warrior pushed heavily against the planks, and felt that one +of them yielded. Then, standing back, he dealt a heavy blow on the spot +with his clenched fist; a second, and the plank broke in. He put his arm +through the aperture, and easily slipped the bolt back, and the door +flew open. The blood streamed from his hand. +</p> +<p> +"That is well done," said Darius as he entered. His quick eye saw +something white upon the stone bench in the dusky corner by the door. He +stooped and picked it up quickly. It was the sealed scroll Atossa had +left there when she needed both her hands to draw the bolt. Darius took +it to one of the narrow windows, looked at it curiously and broke the +seal. Zoroaster stood near and wiped the blood from his bruised knuckle. +</p> +<p> +The contents of the scroll were short. It was addressed to one +Phraortes, of Ecbatana in Media, and contained the information that the +Great King had returned in triumph from Babylon, having subdued the +rebels and slain many thousands in two battles. Furthermore, that the +said Phraortes should give instant information of the queen's affairs, +and do nothing in regard to them until further intimation arrived. +</p> +<p> +The king stood a moment in deep thought. Then he walked slowly down the +corridor, holding the scroll loose in his hand. Just at that instant +Atossa emerged from the dark staircase, and as she found herself face to +face with Darius, she uttered an exclamation and stood still. +</p> +<p> +"This is very convenient place for our interview," said Darius quietly. +"No one can hear us. Therefore speak the truth at once." He held up the +scroll to her eyes. +</p> +<p> +Atossa's ready wit did not desert her, nor did she change colour, though +she knew her life was in the balance with her words. She laughed lightly +as she spoke: +</p> +<p> +"I came down the stairs this morning——" +</p> +<p> +"To see the most beautiful woman in the world," interrupted Darius, +raising his voice. "You have seen her. I am glad of it. Why did you bolt +the door of the passage?" +</p> +<p> +"Because I thought it unfitting that the passage to the women's +apartments should be left open when so many in the palace know the way," +she answered readily enough. +</p> +<p> +"Where were you taking this letter when you left it at the door?" asked +the king, beginning to doubt whether there were anything wrong at all. +</p> +<p> +"I was about to send it to Ecbatana," answered Atossa with perfect +simplicity. +</p> +<p> +"Who is this Phraortes?" +</p> +<p> +"He is the governor of the lands my father gave me for my own in Media. +I wrote him to tell him of the Great King's victory, and that he should +send me information concerning my affairs, and do nothing further until +he hears from me." +</p> +<p> +"Why not?" +</p> +<p> +"Because I thought it possible that the Great King would spend the +summer in Ecbatana, and that I should therefore be there myself to give +my own directions. I forgot the letter because I had to take both hands +to draw the bolt, and I was coming back to get it. Nehushta the princess +is with me—she is now upon the staircase." +</p> +<p> +The king looked thoughtfully at his wife's beautiful face. +</p> +<p> +"You have evidently spoken the truth," he said slowly. "But it is not +always easy to understand what your truth signifies. I often think it +would be much wiser to strangle you. Say you that Nehushta is near? Call +her, then. Why does she tarry?" +</p> +<p> +In truth Nehushta had trembled as she crouched upon the stairs, not +knowing whether to descend or to fly up the steps again. As she heard +the queen pronounce her name, however, she judged it prudent to seem to +have been out of earshot, and with quick, soft steps, she went up till +she came to the lighted part, and there she waited. +</p> +<p> +"Let the Great King go himself and find her," said Atossa proudly, "if +he doubts me any further." She stood aside to let him pass. But Darius +beckoned to Zoroaster to go. He had remained standing at some distance, +an unwilling witness to the royal altercation that had taken place +before him; but as he passed the queen, she gave him a glance of +imploring sadness, as though beseeching his sympathy in what she was +made to suffer. He ran quickly up the steps in spite of the darkness, +and found Nehushta waiting by the window higher up. She started as he +appeared, for he was the person she least expected. But he took her +quickly in his arms, and kissed her passionately twice. +</p> +<p> +"Come quickly, my beloved," he whispered. "The king waits below." +</p> +<p> +"I heard his voice—and then I fled," she whispered hurriedly; and they +began to descend again. "I hate her—I knew I should," she whispered, as +she leaned upon his arm. So they emerged into the corridor, and met +Darius waiting for them. The queen was nowhere to be seen, and the door +at the farther extremity of the narrow way was wide open. +</p> +<p> +The king was as calm as though nothing had occurred; he still held the +open letter in his hand as Nehushta entered the passage, and bowed +herself before him. He took her hand for a moment, and then dropped it; +but his eyes flashed suddenly and his arm trembled at her touch. +</p> +<p> +"Thou hadst almost lost thy way," he said. "The palace is large and the +passages are many and devious. Come now, I will lead thee to the +gardens. There thou canst find friends among the queen's noble women, +and amusements of many kinds. Let thy heart delight in the beauty of +Shushan, and if there is anything that thou desirest, ask and I will +give it thee." +</p> +<p> +Nehushta bent her head in thanks. The only thing she desired was to be +alone for half an hour with Zoroaster; and that seemed difficult. +</p> +<p> +"Thy servant desireth what is pleasant in thy sight," she answered. And +so they left the passage by the open door, and the king himself +conducted Nehushta to the entrance of the garden, and bade the +slave-woman who met them to lead her to the pavilion where the ladies of +the palace spent the day in the warm summer weather. Zoroaster knew that +whatever liberty his singular position allowed him in the quarter of the +building where the king himself lived, he was not privileged to enter +that place which was set apart for the noble ladies. Darius hated to be +always surrounded by guards and slaves, and the terraces and staircases +of his dwelling were generally totally deserted,—only small detachments +of spearmen guarding jealously the main entrances. But the remainder of +the palace swarmed with the gorgeously dressed retinue of the court, +with slaves of every colour and degree, from the mute smooth-faced +Ethiopian to the accomplished Hebrew scribes of the great nobles; from +the black and scantily-clad fan-girls to the dainty Greek tirewomen of +the queen's toilet, who loitered near the carved marble fountain at the +entrance to the gardens; and in the outer courts, detachments of the +horsemen of the guard rubbed their weapons, or reddened their broad +leather bridles and trappings with red chalk, or groomed the horse of +some lately arrived officer or messenger, or hung about and basked in +the sun, with no clothing but their short-sleeved linen tunics and +breeches, discussing the affairs of the nation with the certainty of +decision peculiar to all soldiers, high and low. There was only room for +a squadron of horse in the palace; but though they were few, they were +the picked men of the guard, and every one of them felt himself as +justly entitled to an opinion concerning the position of the new king, +as though he were at least a general. +</p> +<p> +But Darius allowed no gossiping slaves nor wrangling soldiers in his own +dwelling. There all was silent and apparently deserted, and thither he +led Zoroaster again. The young warrior was astonished at the way in +which the king moved about unattended, as carelessly as though he were a +mere soldier himself; he was not yet accustomed to the restless +independence of character, to the unceasing activity and perfect +personal fearlessness of the young Darius. It was hard to realise that +this simple, hard-handed, outspoken man was the Great King, and occupied +the throne of the magnificent and stately Cyrus, who never stirred +abroad without the full state of the court about him; or that he reigned +in the stead of the luxurious Cambyses, who feared to tread upon +uncovered marble, or to expose himself to the draught of a staircase; +and who, after seven years of caring for his body, had destroyed himself +in a fit of impotent passion. Darius succeeded to the throne of Persia +as a lion coming into the place of jackals, as an eagle into a nest of +crows and carrion birds—untiring, violent, relentless and brave. +</p> +<p> +"Knowest thou one Phraortes, of Ecbatana?" the king asked suddenly when +he was alone with Zoroaster. +</p> +<p> +"I know him," answered the prince. "A man rich, and powerful, full of +vanity as a peacock, and of wiles like a serpent. Not noble. He is the +son of a fish-vendor, grown rich by selling salted sturgeons in the +market-place. He is also the overseer of the queen's farmlands in Media, +and of the Great King's horse-breeding stables." +</p> +<p> +"Go forth and bring him to me," said the king shortly. Without a word, +Zoroaster made a brief salute and turned upon his heel to go. But it was +as though a man had thrust him through with a knife. The king gazed +after him in admiration of his magnificent obedience. +</p> +<p> +"Stay!" he called out. "How long wilt thou be gone?" +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster turned sharply round in military fashion, as he answered: +</p> +<p> +"It is a hundred and fifty farsangs<a href="#note-3" name="noteref-3"><small>3</small></a> to Ecbatana. By the king's relays +I can ride there in six days, and I can bring back Phraortes in six days +more—if he die not of the riding," he added, with a grim smile. +</p> +<p> +"Is he old, or young? Fat, or meagre?" asked the king, laughing. +</p> +<p> +"He is a man of forty years, neither thin nor fat—a good horseman in +his way, but not as we are." +</p> +<p> +"Bind him to his horse if he falls off from weariness. And tell him he +is summoned to appear before me. Tell him the business brooks no delay. +Auramazda be with thee and bring thee help. Go with speed." +</p> +<p> +Again Zoroaster turned and in a moment he was gone. He had sworn to be +the king's faithful servant, and he would keep his oath, cost what it +might, though it was bitterness to him to leave Nehushta without a word. +He bethought him as he hastily put on light garments for the journey, +that he might send her a letter, and he wrote a few words upon a piece +of parchment, and folded it together. As he passed by the entrance of +the garden on his way to the stables, he looked about for one of +Nehushta's slaves; but seeing none, he beckoned to one of the Greek +tirewomen, and giving her a piece of gold, bade her take the little +scroll to Nehushta, the Hebrew princess, who was in the gardens. Then he +went quickly on, and mounting the best horse in the king's stables, +galloped at a break-neck pace down the steep incline. In five minutes he +had crossed the bridge, and was speeding over the straight, dusty road +toward Nineveh. In a quarter of an hour, a person watching him from the +palace would have seen his flying figure disappearing as in a tiny speck +of dust far out upon the broad, green plain. +</p> +<p> +But the Greek slave-woman stood with Zoroaster's letter in her hand and +held the gold piece he had given her in her mouth, debating what she +should do. She was one of the queen's women, as it chanced, and she +immediately reflected that she might turn the writing to some better +account than by delivering it to Nehushta, whom she had seen for a +moment that morning as she passed, and whose dark Hebrew face displeased +the frivolous Greek, for some hidden reason. She thought of giving the +scroll to the queen, but then she reflected that she did not know what +it contained. The words were written hastily and in the Chaldean +character. Their import might displease her mistress. The woman was not +a newcomer, and she knew Zoroaster's face well enough from former times; +she knew also, or suspected, that the queen secretly loved him, and she +argued from the fact of Zoroaster, who was dressed for a journey, +sending so hastily a word to Nehushta, that he loved the Hebrew +princess. Therefore, if the letter were a mere love greeting, with no +name written in it, the queen might apply it to herself, and she would +be pleased; whereas, if it were in any way clear that the writing was +intended for Nehushta, the queen would certainly be glad that it should +never be delivered. The result of this cunning argument was that the +Greek woman thrust the letter into her bosom, and the gold piece into +her girdle; and went to seek an opportunity of seeing the queen alone. +</p> +<p> +That day, towards evening, Atossa sat in an inner chamber before her +great mirror; the table was covered with jade boxes, silver combs, bowls +of golden hair-pins, little ivory instruments, and all the appurtenances +of her toilet. Two or three magnificent jewels lay among the many +articles of use, gleaming in the reflected light of the two tall lamps +that stood on bronze stands beside her chair. She was fully attired and +had dismissed her women; but she lingered a moment, poring over the +little parchment scroll her chief hairdresser had slipped into her hand +when they were alone for a moment. Only a black fan-girl stood a few +paces behind her, and resting the stem of the long palm against one foot +thrust forward, swung the broad round leaf quickly from side to side at +arm's length, sending a constant stream of fresh air upon her royal +mistress, just below the level of the lamps which burned steadily above. +</p> +<p> +The queen turned the small letter again in her hand, and smiled to +herself as she looked into the great burnished sheet of silver that +surmounted the table. With some difficulty she had mastered the +contents, for she knew enough of Hebrew and of the Chaldean character to +comprehend the few simple words. +</p> +<p> +"I go hence for twelve days upon the king's business. My beloved, my +soul is with thy soul and my heart with thy heart. As the dove that +goeth forth in the morning and returneth in the evening to his mate, so +I will return soon to thee." +</p> +<p> +Atossa knew well enough that the letter had been intended for Nehushta. +The woman had whispered that Zoroaster had given it to her, and +Zoroaster would never have written those words to herself; or, writing +anything, would not have written in the Hebrew language. +</p> +<p> +But as the queen read, her heart rose up in wrath against the Persian +prince and against the woman he loved. When she had talked with him that +morning, she had felt her old yearning affection rising again in her +breast. She had wondered at herself, being accustomed to think that she +was beyond all feeling for man, and the impression she had received from +her half-hour's talk with him was so strong, that she had foolishly +delayed sending her letter to Phraortes, in order to see the woman +Zoroaster admired, and had, in her absence of mind, forgotten the +scroll upon the seat in the corridor, and had brought herself into such +desperate danger through the discovery of the missive, that she hardly +yet felt safe. The king had dismissed her peremptorily from his presence +while he waited for Nehushta, and she had not seen him during the rest +of the day. As for Zoroaster, she had soon heard from her women that he +had taken the road towards Nineveh before noon, alone and almost +unarmed, mounted upon one of the fleetest horses in Persia. She had not +a doubt that Darius had despatched him at once to Ecbatana to meet +Phraortes, or at least to inquire into the state of affairs in the city. +She knew that no one could outride Zoroaster, and that there was nothing +to be done but to await the issue. It was not possible to send a word of +warning to her agent—he must inevitably take his chance, and if his +conduct attracted suspicion, he would, in all probability, be at once +put to death. She believed that, even in that event, she could easily +clear herself; but she resolved, if possible, to warn him as soon as he +reached Shushan, or even to induce the king to be absent from the palace +for a few days at the time when Phraortes might be expected. There was +plenty of time—at least eleven days. +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile, a desperate struggle was beginning within her, and the letter +her woman had brought her hastened the conclusion to which her thoughts +were rapidly tending. +</p> +<p> +She felt keenly the fact that Zoroaster, who had been so cold to her +advances in former days, had preferred before her a Hebrew woman, and +was now actually so deeply in love with Nehushta, that he could not +leave the palace for a few days without writing her a word of love—he, +who had never loved any one! She fiercely hated this dark woman, who was +preferred before her by the man she secretly loved, and whom the king +had brutally declared to be the most beautiful woman in the world. She +longed for her destruction as she had never longed for anything in her +life. Her whole soul rose in bitter resentment; not only did Zoroaster +love this black-eyed, dark-browed child of captivity, but the king, who +had always maintained that Atossa was unequalled in the world, even when +he coldly informed her that he would never trust her, now dared to say +before Zoroaster, almost before Nehushta herself, that the princess was +the more beautiful of the two. The one man wounded her in her vanity, +the other in her heart. +</p> +<p> +It would not be possible at present to be revenged upon the king. There +was little chance of eluding his sleepless vigilance, or of leading him +into any rash act of self-destruction. Besides, she knew him too well +not to understand that he was the only man alive who could save Persia +from further revolutions, and keep the throne against all comers. She +loved power and the splendour of her royal existence, perhaps more than +she loved Zoroaster. The idea of another change in the monarchy was not +to be thought of, now that Darius had subdued Babylon. She had indeed a +half-concerted plan with Phraortes to seize the power in Media in case +the king were defeated in Babylonia, and the scroll she had so +imprudently forgotten that very morning was merely an order to lay +aside all such plans for the present, since the king had returned in +triumph. +</p> +<p> +As far as her conscience was concerned, Atossa would as soon have +overthrown and murdered the king to gratify the personal anger she felt +against him at the present moment, as she would have wrecked the +universe to possess a jewel she fancied. There existed in her mind no +idea of proportion between the gratification of her passions and the +means she might employ thereto; provided one gratification did not +interfere with another which she always saw beyond. Nothing startled her +on account of its mere magnitude; no plan was rejected by her merely +because it implied ruin to a countless number of human beings who were +useless to her. She coldly calculated the amount of satisfaction she +could at any time obtain for her wishes and desires, so as not to +prejudice the gratification of all the possible passions she might +hereafter experience. +</p> +<p> +As for injuring Zoroaster, she would not have thought of it. She loved +him in a way peculiar to herself, but it was love, nevertheless,—and +she had no idea of wreaking her disappointment upon the object on which +she had set her heart. As a logical consequence, she determined to turn +all her anger against Nehushta, and she pictured to herself the +delicious pleasure of torturing the young princess's jealousy to +desperation. To convince Nehushta that Zoroaster was deceiving her, and +really loved herself, the queen; to force Zoroaster into some position +where he must either silently let Nehushta believe that he was attached +to Atossa, or, as an alternative, betray the king's secrets by speaking +the truth; to let Nehushta's vanity be flattered by the king's +admiration,—nay, even to force her into a marriage with Darius, and +then by suffering her again to fall into her first love for Zoroaster, +bring her to a public disgrace by suddenly unmasking her to the king—to +accomplish these things surely and quickly, reserving for herself the +final delight of scoffing at her worsted rival—all this seemed to +Atossa to constitute a plan at once worthy of her profound and scheming +intelligence, and most sweetly satisfactory to her injured vanity and +rejected love. +</p> +<p> +It would be hard for her to see Nehushta married to the king, and +occupying the position of chief favourite even for a time. But the +triumph would be the sweeter when Nehushta was finally overthrown, and +meanwhile there would be much daily delight in tormenting the princess's +jealousy. Chance, or rather the cunning of her Greek tirewoman, had +thrown a weapon in her way which could easily be turned into an +instrument of torture, and as she sat before her mirror, she twisted and +untwisted the little bit of parchment, and smiled to herself, a sweet +bright smile—and leaned her head back to the pleasant breeze of the +fan. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0020" id="h2HCH0020"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER IX. +</h2> +<p> +The noonday air was hot and dry in the garden of the palace, but in the +graceful marble pavilion there was coolness and the sound of gently +plashing water. Rose-trees and climbing plants screened the sunlight +from the long windows, and gave a soft green tinge to the eight-sided +hall, where a fountain played in the midst, its little jet falling into +a basin hollowed in the floor. On the rippling surface a few +water-lilies swayed gently with the constant motion, anchored by their +long stems to the bottom. All was cool and quiet and restful, and +Nehushta stood looking at the fountain. +</p> +<p> +She was alone and very unhappy. Zoroaster had left the palace without a +word to her, and she knew only by the vague reports her slaves brought +her, that he was gone for many days. Her heart sank at the thought of +all that might happen before he returned, and the tears stood in her +eyes. +</p> +<p> +"Are you here alone, dear princess?" said a soft, clear voice behind +her. Nehushta started, as though something had stung her, as she +recognised Atossa's tones. There was nothing of her assumed cordiality +of the previous day as she answered. She was too unhappy, too weary of +the thought that her lover was gone, to be able to act a part, or +pretend a friendliness she did not feel. +</p> +<p> +"Yes—I am alone," she said quietly. +</p> +<p> +"So am I," answered Atossa, her blue eyes sparkling with the sunshine +she brought in with her, and all her wonderful beauty beaming, as it +were, with an overflowing happiness. "The ladies of the court are gone +in state to the city, in the Great King's train, and you and I are alone +in the palace. How deliciously cool it is in here." +</p> +<p> +She sat down upon a heap of cushions by one of the screened windows and +contemplated Nehushta, who still stood by the fountain. +</p> +<p> +"You look sad—and tired, dearest Nehushta," said she presently. "Indeed +you must not be sad here—nobody is sad here!" +</p> +<p> +"I am sad," repeated Nehushta, in a dreary, monotonous way, as though +scarcely conscious of what she was saying. There was a moment's silence +before Atossa spoke again. +</p> +<p> +"Tell me what it is," she said at last, in persuasive accents. "Tell me +what is the matter. It may be that you lack something—that you miss +something you were used to in Ecbatana. Will you not tell me, dearest?" +</p> +<p> +"Tell you what?" asked Nehushta, as though she had not heard. +</p> +<p> +"Tell me what it is that makes you sad," repeated the queen. +</p> +<p> +"Tell you?" exclaimed the princess, suddenly looking up, with flashing +eyes, "tell <i>you?</i> oh no!" +</p> +<p> +Atossa looked a little sadly at Nehushta, as though hurt at the want of +confidence she showed. But the Hebrew maiden turned away and went and +looked through the hanging plants at the garden without. Then Atossa +rose softly and came and stood behind her, and put her arm about her, +and let her own fair cheek rest against the princess's dark face. +Nehushta said nothing, but she trembled, as though something she hated +were touching her. +</p> +<p> +"Is it because your friend has gone away suddenly?" asked Atossa almost +in a whisper, with the sweetest accent of sympathy. Nehushta started a +little. +</p> +<p> +"No!" she answered, almost fiercely. "Why do you say that?" +</p> +<p> +"Only—he wrote me a little word before he went. I thought you might +like to know he was safe," replied the queen, gently pressing her arm +about Nehushta's slender waist. +</p> +<p> +"Wrote to you?" repeated the princess, in angry surprise. +</p> +<p> +"Yes, dearest," answered the queen, looking down in well-feigned +embarrassment. "I would not have told you, only I thought you would wish +to hear of him. If you like, I will read you a part of what he says," +she added, producing from her bosom the little piece of parchment +carefully rolled together. +</p> +<p> +It was more than Nehushta could bear. Her olive skin turned suddenly +pale, and she tore herself away from the queen. +</p> +<p> +"Oh no! no! I will not hear it! Leave me in peace—for your gods' sake, +leave me in peace!" +</p> +<p> +Atossa drew herself up and stared coldly at Nehushta, as though she were +surprised beyond measure and deeply offended. +</p> +<p> +"Truly, I need not be told twice to leave you in peace," she said +proudly. "I thought to comfort you, because I saw you were sad—even at +the expense of my own feelings. I will leave you now—but I bear no +malice against you. You are very, very young, and very, very foolish." +</p> +<p> +Atossa shook her head, thoughtfully, and swept from the pavilion in +stately and offended dignity. But as she walked alone through the +garden, she smiled to herself and softly hummed a merry melody she had +heard from an Egyptian actor on the previous evening. Darius had brought +a company of Egyptians from Babylon, and after the banquet, had +commanded that they should perform their music, and dancing, and +mimicry, for the amusement of the assembled court. +</p> +<p> +Atossa's sweet voice echoed faintly among the orange trees and the +roses, as she went towards the palace, and the sound of it came +distantly to Nehushta's ears. She stood for a while where the queen had +left her, her face pale and her hands wringing together; and then, with +a sudden impulse, she went and threw herself upon the floor, and buried +her head in the deep, soft cushions. Her hands wandered in the wealth of +her black hair, and her quick, hot tears stained the delicate silk of +the pillows. +</p> +<p> +How could he? How was it possible? He said he loved her, and now, when +he was sent away for many days, his only thought had been to write to +the queen—not to herself! An agony of jealousy overwhelmed her, and she +could have torn out her very soul, and trampled her own heart under her +feet in her anger. Passionately she clasped her hands to her temples; +her head seemed splitting with a new and dreadful pain that swallowed +all her thoughts for a moment, until the cold weight seemed again to +fall upon her breast and all her passion gushed out in abundant tears. +Suddenly a thought struck her. She roused herself, leaning upon one +hand, and stared vacantly a moment at her small gilded shoe which had +fallen from her bare foot upon the marble pavement. She absently reached +forward and took the thing in her hand, and gravely contemplated the +delicate embroidery and thick gilding, through her tears,—as one will +do a foolish and meaningless thing in the midst of a great sorrow. +</p> +<p> +Was it possible that the queen had deceived her? How she wished she had +let her read the writing as she had offered to do. She did not imagine +at first that the letter was for herself and had gone astray. But she +thought the queen might easily have pretended to have received +something, or had even scratched a few words upon a bit of parchment, +meaning to pass it off upon her as a letter from Zoroaster. She longed +to possess the thing and to judge of it with her own eyes. It would +hardly be possible to say whether it were written by him or not, as far +as the handwriting was concerned; but Nehushta was sure she should +recognise some word, some turn of language that would assure her that it +was his. She could almost have risen and gone in search of the queen at +once, to prove the lie upon her—to challenge her to show the writing. +But her pride forbade her. She had been so weak—she should not have let +Atossa see, even for a moment, that she was hurt, not even that she +loved Zoroaster. She had tried to conceal her feelings, but Atossa had +gone too far, had tortured her beyond all endurance, and she knew that, +even if she had known what to expect, she could not have easily borne +the soft, infuriating, deadly, caressing, goading taunts of that fair, +cruel woman. +</p> +<p> +Then again, the whole possibility of Zoroaster's unfaithfulness came and +took shape before her. He had known and loved Atossa of old, perhaps, +and now the old love had risen up and killed the new—he had sworn so +truly under the ivory moonlight in Ecbatana. And yet—he had written to +this other woman and not to her. Was it true? Was it Atossa's cruel lie? +In a storm of doubt and furious passion, her tears welled forth again; +and once more she hid her face in the pale yellow cushions, and her +whole beautiful body trembled and was wrung with her sobs. +</p> +<p> +Suddenly she was aware that some one entered the little hall and stood +beside her. She dared not look up at first; she was unstrung and +wretched in her grief and anger, and it was the strong, firm tread of a +man. The footsteps ceased, and the intruder, whoever he might be, was +standing still; she took courage and looked quickly up. It was the king +himself. Indeed, she might have known that no other man would dare to +penetrate into the recesses of the garden set apart for the ladies of +the palace. +</p> +<p> +Darius stood quietly gazing at her with an expression of doubt and +curiosity, that was almost amusing, on his stern, dark face. Nehushta +was frightened, and sprang to her feet with the graceful quickness of a +startled deer. She was indolent by nature, but as swift as light when +she was roused by fear or excitement. +</p> +<p> +"Are you so unhappy in my palace?" asked Darius gently. "Why are you +weeping? Who has hurt you?" +</p> +<p> +Nehushta turned her face away and dashed the tears from her eyes, while +her cheeks flushed hotly. +</p> +<p> +"I am not weeping—no one—has hurt me," she answered, in a voice broken +rather by embarrassment and annoyance, than by the sorrow she had nearly +forgotten in her sudden astonishment at being face to face with the +king. +</p> +<p> +Darius smiled, and almost laughed, as he stroked his thick beard with +his broad brown hand. +</p> +<p> +"Princess," he said, "will you sit down again? I will deliver you a +discourse upon the extreme folly of ever telling"—he hesitated—"of +saying anything which is not precisely true." +</p> +<p> +There was something so simple and honest in his manner of speaking, that +Nehushta almost smiled through her half-dried tears as she sat upon the +cushions at the king's feet. He himself sat down upon the broad marble +seat that ran round the eight-sided little building, and composing his +face to a serious expression, that was more than half-assumed, began to +deliver his lecture. +</p> +<p> +"I take it for granted that when one tells a lie, he expects to be +believed. There must, then, be some thing or circumstance which can help +to make his lies credible. Now, my dear princess, in the present +instance, while I was looking you in the face and counting the tears +upon your very beautiful cheeks, you deliberately told me that you were +not weeping. There was, therefore, not even the shadow of a thing, or +circumstance which could make what you said credible. It is evident that +what you said was not true. Is it not so?" +</p> +<p> +Nehushta could not help smiling as she looked up and saw the kindly +light in the king's dark eyes. She thought she understood he was amusing +her for the sake of giving her time to collect herself, and in spite of +the determined intention of marrying her he had so lately expressed, she +felt safe with him. +</p> +<p> +"The king lives for ever," she answered, in the set phrase of assent +common at the court. +</p> +<p> +"It is very probable," replied Darius gravely. "So many people say so, +that I should have to believe all mankind liars if that were not true. +But I must return to your own particular case. It would have been easy +for you not to have said what you did. I must therefore suppose that in +going out of the way to make an attempt to deceive me in the face of +such evidence—by saying you were not weeping when the tears were +actually falling from those very soft eyes of yours—you had an object +to gain. Men employ truth and falsehood for much the same reason: A man +who does not respect truth will, therefore, lie when he can hope to gain +more by it. The man who lies expects to gain something by his lie, and +the man who tells the truth hopes that, in so doing, he will establish +himself a credit which he can use upon future occasions.<a href="#note-4" name="noteref-4"><small>4</small></a> But the +object is the same. Tell me, therefore, princess, what did you hope to +gain by trying to deceive me?" Darius laughed as he concluded his +argument and looked at Nehushta to see what she would say—Nehushta +laughed also, she could hardly tell why. The king's brilliant, active +humour was catching. She reached out and thrust her foot into the little +slipper that still lay beside her, before she answered. +</p> +<p> +"What I said was true in one way and not in another," she said. "I had +been crying bitterly, but I stopped when I heard the king come and stand +beside me. So it was only the tears the king saw and not the weeping. As +for the object,"—she laughed a little,—"it was, perhaps, that I might +gain time to dry my eyes." +</p> +<p> +Darius shifted his position a little. +</p> +<p> +"I know," he said gravely. "And I know why you were weeping, and it is +my fault. Will you forgive me, princess? I am a hasty man, not +accustomed to think twice when I give my commands." +</p> +<p> +Nehushta looked up suddenly with an expression of inquiry. +</p> +<p> +"I sent him away very quickly," continued the king. "If I had thought, I +would have told him to come and bid you farewell. He would not have +willingly gone without seeing you—it was my fault. He will return in +twelve days." +</p> +<p> +Nehushta was silent and bit her lip as the bitter thought arose in her +heart that it was not alone Zoroaster's sudden departure that had pained +her. Then it floated across her mind that the king had purposely sent +away her lover in order that he might himself try to win her heart. +</p> +<p> +"Why did you send him—and not another?" she asked, without looking up, +and forgetting all formality of speech. +</p> +<p> +"Because he is the man of all others whom I can trust, and I needed a +faithful messenger," answered Darius, simply. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta gazed into the king's face searching for some sign there, but +he had spoken earnestly enough. +</p> +<p> +"I thought—" she began, and then stopped short, blushing crimson. +</p> +<p> +"You thought," answered Darius, "that I had sent him away never to +return because I desire you for my wife. It was natural, but it was +unjust. I sent him because I was obliged to do so. If you wish it, I +will leave you now, and I will promise you that I will not look upon +your face till Zoroaster returns." +</p> +<p> +Nehushta looked down and she still blushed. She could hardly believe her +ears. +</p> +<p> +"Indeed," she faltered, "it were perhaps—best—I mean—" she could not +finish the sentence. Darius rose quietly from his seat: +</p> +<p> +"Farewell, princess; it shall be as you desire," he said gravely, and +strode towards the door. His face was pale and his lips set tight. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta hesitated and then, in a moment, she comprehended the whole +nobility of soul of the young king,—a man at whose words the whole land +trembled, who crushed his enemies like empty egg-shells beneath his +feet, and yet who, when he held the woman he loved completely in his +power, refused, even for a moment, to intrude his presence upon her +against her wish. +</p> +<p> +She sprang from her seat and ran to him, and kneeled on one knee and +took his hand. He did not look at her, but his own hand trembled +violently in hers, and he made as though he would lift her to her feet. +</p> +<p> +"Nay," she cried, "let not my lord be angry with his handmaiden! Let the +king grant me my request, for he is the king of men and of kings!" In +her sudden emotion she spoke once more in the form of a humble subject +addressing her sovereign. +</p> +<p> +"Speak, princess," answered Darius. "If it be possible, I will grant +your request." +</p> +<p> +"I would—" she stopped, and again the generous blood overspread her +dark cheek. "I would—I know not what I would, saving to thank thee for +thy goodness and kindness—I was unhappy, and thou hast comforted me. I +meant not that it was best that I should not look upon the king's face." +She spoke the last words in so low a tone as she bent her head, that +Darius could scarcely hear them. But his willing ears interpreted +rightly what she said, and he understood. +</p> +<p> +"Shall I come to you to-morrow, princess, at the same hour?" he asked, +almost humbly. +</p> +<p> +"Nay, the king knoweth that the garden is ever full of the women of the +court," said Nehushta, hesitating; for she thought that it would be a +very different matter to be seen from a distance by all the ladies of +the palace in conversation with the king. +</p> +<p> +"Do not fear," answered Darius. "The garden shall be yours. There are +other bowers of roses in Shushan whither the women can go. None but you +shall enter here, so long as it be your pleasure. Farewell, I will come +to you to-morrow at noon." +</p> +<p> +He turned and looked into her eyes, and then she took his hand and +silently placed it upon her forehead in thanks. In a moment he was gone +and she could hear his quick tread upon the marble of the steps outside, +and in the path through the roses. When she knew that he was out of +sight, Nehushta went out and stood in the broad blaze of the noonday +sun. She passed her hand over her forehead, as though she had been +dazed. It seemed as though a change had come over her and she could not +understand it. +</p> +<p> +In the glad security of being alone, she ran swiftly down one of the +paths, and across by another. Then she stopped short and bent down a +great bough of blooming roses and buried her beautiful dark face in the +sweet leaves and smelled the perfume, and laughed. +</p> +<p> +"Oh! I am so happy!" she cried aloud. But her face suddenly became +grave, as she tried to understand what she felt. After all, Zoroaster +was only gone for twelve days, and meanwhile she had secured her +liberty, the freedom of wandering all day in the beautiful gardens, and +she could dream of him to her heart's content. And the letter? It was a +forgery, of course. That wicked queen loved Zoroaster and wished to make +Nehushta give him up! Perhaps she might tell the king something of it +when he came on the next day. He would be so royally angry! He would so +hate the lie! And yet, in some way, it seemed to her that she could not +tell Darius of this trouble. He had been so kind, so gentle, as though +he had been her brother, instead of the Great King himself, who bore +life and death in his right hand and his left, whose shadow was a terror +to the world already, and at whose brief, imperious word a nation rose +to arms and victory. Was this the terrible Darius? The man who had slain +the impostor with his own sword? who had vanquished rebel Babylon in a +few days and brought home four thousand captives at his back? He was as +gentle as a girl, this savage warrior—but when she recalled his +features, she remembered the stern look that came into his face when he +was serious, she grew thoughtful and wandered slowly down the path, +biting a rose-leaf delicately with her small white teeth and thinking +many things; most of all, how she might be revenged upon Atossa for what +she had suffered that morning. +</p> +<p> +But Atossa herself was enjoying at that very moment the triumph of the +morning and quietly planning how she might continue the torment she had +imagined for Nehushta, without allowing its cruelty to diminish, while +keeping herself amused and occupied to the fullest extent until +Zoroaster should return. It was not long before she learned from her +chief tirewoman that the king had been in the pavilion of the garden +with Nehushta that morning, and it at once occurred to her that, if the +king returned on the following day, it would be an easy thing to appear +while he was with the princess, and by veiled words and allusions to +Zoroaster, to make her rival suffer the most excruciating torments, +which she would be forced to conceal from the king. +</p> +<p> +But, at the same time, the news gave her cause for serious thought. She +had certainly not intended that Nehushta should be left alone for hours +with Darius. She knew indeed that the princess loved Zoroaster, but she +could not conceive that any woman should be insensible to the +consolation the Great King could offer. If affairs took such a turn, she +fully intended to allow the king to marry Nehushta, while she +confidently believed it in her power to destroy her just when she had +reached the summit of her ambition. +</p> +<p> +It chanced that the king chose that day to eat his evening meal in the +sole company of Atossa, as he sometimes did when weary of the court +ceremony. When, therefore, they reclined at sundown upon a small +secluded terrace of the upper story, Atossa found an excellent +opportunity of discussing Nehushta and her doings. +</p> +<p> +Darius lay upon a couch on one side of the low table, and Atossa was +opposite to him. The air was dry and intensely hot, and on each side two +black fan-girls plied their palm-leaves silently with all their might. +The king lay back upon his cushions, his head uncovered, and all his +shaggy curls of black hair tossed behind him, his broad, strong hand +circling a plain goblet of gold that stood beside him on the table. For +once, he had laid aside his breastplate, and a vest of white and purple +fell loosely over his tunic; but his sword of keen Indian steel lay +within reach upon the floor. +</p> +<p> +Atossa had raised herself upon her elbow, and her clear blue eyes were +fixed upon the king's face, thoughtfully, as though expecting that he +would say something. Contrary to all custom, she wore a Greek tunic +with short sleeves caught at the shoulders by golden buckles, and her +fair hair was gathered into a heavy knot, low down, behind her head. Her +dazzling arms and throat were bare, but above her right elbow she wore a +thick twisted snake of gold, her only ornament. +</p> +<p> +"The king is not athirst to-night," said Atossa at last, watching the +full goblet that he grasped, but did not raise. +</p> +<p> +"I am not always thirsty," answered Darius moodily. "Would you have me +always drunk, like a Babylonian dog?" +</p> +<p> +"No; nor always sober, like a Persian captain." +</p> +<p> +"What Persian captain?" asked the king, suddenly looking at her and +knitting his brows. +</p> +<p> +"Why, like him, whom, for his sobriety you have sent to-day on the way +to Nineveh," answered Atossa. +</p> +<p> +"I have sent no one to Nineveh to-day." +</p> +<p> +"To Ecbatana then, to inquire whether I told you the truth about my poor +servant Phraortes—Fravartish, as you call him," said the queen, with a +flash of spite in her blue eyes. +</p> +<p> +"I assure you," answered the king, laughing, "that it is solely on +account of your remarkable beauty that I have not had you strangled. So +soon as you grow ugly you shall surely die. It is very unwise of me, as +it is!" +</p> +<p> +The queen, too, laughed, a low, silvery laugh. +</p> +<p> +"I am greatly indebted for my life," said she. "I am very beautiful, I +am aware, but I am no longer the most beautiful woman in the world." She +spoke without a trace of annoyance in her voice or face, as though it +were a good jest. +</p> +<p> +"No," said Darius, thoughtfully. "I used to think that you were. It is +in the nature of man to change his opinion. You are, nevertheless, very +beautiful—I admire your Greek dress." +</p> +<p> +"Shall I send my tirewoman with one like it to Nehushta?" inquired +Atossa, raising her delicate eyebrows, with a sweet smile. +</p> +<p> +"You will not need to improve her appearance in order that she may find +favour in my eyes," answered Darius, laughing. "But the jest is good. +You would rather send her an Indian snake than an ornament." +</p> +<p> +"Yes," returned the queen, who understood the king's strange character +better than any one. "You cannot in honesty expect me not to hate a +woman whom you think more beautiful than me! It would hardly be natural. +It is unfortunate that she should prefer the sober Persian captain to +the king himself." +</p> +<p> +"It is unfortunate—yes—fortunate for you, however." +</p> +<p> +"I mean, it will chafe sadly upon you when you have married her," said +Atossa, calmly. +</p> +<p> +Darius raised the goblet he still held and setting it to his lips drank +it at a draught. As he replaced it on the table, Atossa rose swiftly, +and with her own hands refilled it from a golden ewer. The wine was of +Shiraz, dark and sweet and strong. The king took her small white hand in +his, as she stood beside him, and looked at it. +</p> +<p> +"It is a beautiful hand," he said. "Nehushta's fingers are a trifle +shorter than yours—a little more pointed—a little less grasping. +Shall I marry Nehushta, or not?" He looked up as he asked the question, +and he laughed. +</p> +<p> +"No," answered Atossa, laughing too. +</p> +<p> +"Shall I marry her to Zoroaster?" +</p> +<p> +"No," she answered again, but her laugh was less natural. +</p> +<p> +"What shall I do with her?" asked the king. +</p> +<p> +"Strangle her!" replied Atossa, with a little fierce pressure on his +hand as he held hers, and without the least hesitation. +</p> +<p> +"There would be frequent sudden deaths in Persia, if you were king," +said Darius. +</p> +<p> +"It seems to me there are enough slain, as it is," answered the queen. +"There are, perhaps, one—or two——" +</p> +<p> +Suddenly the king's face grew grave, and he dropped her hand. +</p> +<p> +"Look you!" he said, "I love jesting. But jest not overmuch with me. Do +no harm to Nehushta, or I will make an end of your jesting for ever, by +sure means. That white throat of yours would look ill with a bow-string +about it." +</p> +<p> +The queen bit her lip. The king seldom spoke to her in earnest, and she +was frightened. +</p> +<p> +On the following day, when she went to the garden, two tall spearmen +guarded the entrance, and as she was about to go in, they crossed their +lances over the marble door and silently barred the way. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0021" id="h2HCH0021"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER X. +</h2> +<p> +Atossa started back in pure astonishment and stared for a moment at the +two guards, looking from one to the other, and trying to read their +stolid faces. Then she laid her hand on their spears, and would have +pushed them aside; but she could not. +</p> +<p> +"Whose hounds are ye?" she said angrily. "Know ye not the queen? Make +way!" +</p> +<p> +But the two strong soldiers neither answered nor removed their weapons +from before the door. +</p> +<p> +"Dog-faced slaves!" she said between her teeth. "I will crucify you both +before sundown!" She turned and went away, but she was glad that no one +was there in the narrow vestibule before the garden to see her +discomfiture. It was the first time in her life she had ever been +resisted by an inferior, and she could not bear it easily. But when she +discovered, half an hour later, that the guards were obeying the Great +King's orders, she bowed her head silently and went to her apartments to +consider what she should do. +</p> +<p> +She could do nothing. There was no appeal against the king's word. He +had distinctly commanded that no one save Nehushta, not even Atossa +herself, was to be allowed to enter; he had placed the guards there +himself the previous day, and had himself given the order. +</p> +<p> +For eleven days the door was barred; but Atossa did not again attempt to +enter. Darius would have visited roughly such an offence, and she knew +how delicate her position was. She resigned herself and occupied her +mind with other things. Daily, an hour before noon, Nehushta swept +proudly through the gate, and disappeared among the roses and myrtles of +the garden; and daily, precisely as the sun reached the meridian, the +king went in between the spearmen, and disappeared in like manner. +</p> +<p> +Darius had grown so suddenly stern and cold in manner towards the queen, +that she dared not even mention the subject of the garden to him, +fearing a sadden outburst of his anger, which would surely put an end to +her existence in the court, and very likely to her life. +</p> +<p> +As for Nehushta, she had plentiful cause for reflection and much time +for dreaming. If the days were not happy, they were at least made +bearable for her by the absolute liberty she enjoyed. The king would +have given her slaves and jewels and rich gifts without end, had she +been willing to accept them. She said she had all she needed—and she +said it a little proudly; only the king's visits grew to be the centre +of the day, and each day the visit lengthened, till it came to be nearly +evening when Darius issued from the gate. +</p> +<p> +She always waited for him in the eight-sided pavilion, and as their +familiarity grew, the king would not even permit her to rise when he +came, nor to use any of those forms of the court speech which were so +distasteful to him. He simply sat himself down beside her, and talked to +her and listened to her answers, as though he were one of his own +subjects, no more hampered by the cares and state of royalty than any +soldier in the kingdom. +</p> +<p> +It was a week since Zoroaster had mounted to ride to Ecbatana, and +Darius sat as usual upon the marble bench by the side of Nehushta, who +rested among the cushions, talking now without constraint upon all +matters that chanced to occur as subjects of conversation. She thought +Darius was more silent than usual, and his dark face was pale. He seemed +weary, as though from some great struggle, and presently Nehushta +stopped speaking and waited to see whether the king would say anything. +</p> +<p> +During the silence nothing was heard saving the plash of the little +fountain, and the low soft ripple of the tiny waves that rocked +themselves against the edge of the basin. +</p> +<p> +"Do you know, Nehushta," he said at last, in a weary voice, "that I am +doing one of the worst actions of my life?" +</p> +<p> +Nehushta started, and the shadows in her face grew darker. +</p> +<p> +"Say rather the kindest action you ever did," she murmured. +</p> +<p> +"If it is not bad, it is foolish," said Darius, resting his chin upon +his hand and leaning forward. "I would rather it were foolish than +bad—I fear me it is both." +</p> +<p> +Nehushta could guess well enough what it was he would say. She knew she +could have turned the subject, or laughed, or interrupted him in many +ways; but she did none of these things. An indescribable longing seized +her to hear him say that he loved her. What could it matter? He was so +loyal and good that he could never be more than a friend. He was the +king of the world—had he not been honest and kind, he would have needed +no wooing to do as he pleased to do, utterly and entirely. A word from +his lips and the name of Zoroaster would be but the memory of a man +dead; and again a word, and Nehushta would be the king's wife! What need +had he of concealment, or of devious ways? He was the king of the earth, +whose shadow was life and death, whose slightest wish was a law to be +enforced by hundreds of thousands of warriors! There was nothing between +him and his desires—nothing but that inborn justice and truth, in which +he so royally believed. Nehushta felt that she could trust him, and she +longed—out of mere curiosity, she thought—to hear him speak words of +love to her. It would only be for a moment—they would be so soon +spoken; and at her desire, he would surely not speak them again. It +seemed so sweet, she knew not why, to make this giant of despotic power +do as she pleased; to feel that she could check him, or let him +speak—him whom all obeyed and feared, as they feared death itself. +</p> +<p> +She looked up quietly, as she answered: +</p> +<p> +"How can it be either bad or foolish of you to make others so happy?" +</p> +<p> +"It seems as though it could be neither—and yet, all my reason tells me +it is both," replied the king earnestly. "Here I sit beside you, day +after day, deceiving myself with the thought that I am making your time +pass pleasantly till—" +</p> +<p> +"There is not any deception in that," interrupted Nehushta gently. +Somehow she did not wish him to pronounce Zoroaster's name. "I can never +tell you how grateful I am—" +</p> +<p> +"It is I who am grateful," interrupted the king in his turn. "It is I +who am grateful that I am allowed to be daily with you, and that you +speak with me, and seem glad when I come—" He hesitated and stopped. +</p> +<p> +"What is there that is bad and foolish in that?" asked Nehushta, with a +sudden smile, as she looked up into his face. +</p> +<p> +"There is more than I like to think," answered the king. "You say the +time passes pleasantly for you. Do you think it is less pleasant for +me?" His voice sank to a deep, soft tone, as he continued: "I sit here +day after day, and day after day I love you more and more. I love +you—where is the use of concealing that—if I could conceal it? You +know it. Perhaps you pity me, for you do not love me. You pity me who +hold the whole earth under my feet as an Egyptian juggler stands upon a +ball, and rolls it whither he will." He ceased suddenly. +</p> +<p> +"Indeed I would that you did not love me," said Nehushta very gravely. +She looked down. The pleasure of hearing the king's words was indeed +exquisite, and she feared that her eyes might betray her. But she did +not love him. She wondered what he would say next. +</p> +<p> +"You might as well wish that dry pastures should not burn when the sun +shines on them, and there is no rain," he answered with a passing +bitterness. "It is at least a satisfaction that my love does not harm +you—that you are willing to have me for your friend—" +</p> +<p> +"Willing! Your friendship is almost the sweetest thing I know," +exclaimed the princess. The king's eyes flashed darkly. +</p> +<p> +"Almost! Yes, truly—my friendship and another man's love are the +sweetest things! What would my friendship be without his love? By +Auramazda and the six Amshaspands of Heaven, I would it were my love and +his friendship! I would that Zoroaster were the king, and I Zoroaster, +the king's servant! I would give all Persia and Media, Babylon and +Egypt, and all the uttermost parts of my kingdom, to hear your sweet +voice say: 'Darius, I love thee!' I would give my right hand, I would +give my heart from my breast and my soul from my body—my life and my +strength, and my glory and my kingdom would I give to hear you say: +'Come, my beloved, and put thine arms about me!' Ah, child! you know not +what my love is—how it is higher than the heavens in worshipping you, +and broader than the earth to be filled with you, and deeper than the +depths of the sea, to change not, but to abide for you always." +</p> +<p> +The king's voice was strong, and the power of his words found wings in +it, and seemed to fly forth irresistibly with a message that demanded an +answer. Nehushta regretted within herself that she had let him +speak—but for all the world she could not have given up the possession +of the words he had spoken. She covered her eyes with one hand and +remained silent—for she could say nothing. A new emotion had got +possession of her, and seemed to close her lips. +</p> +<p> +"You are silent," continued the king. "You are right. What should you +answer me? My voice sounds like the raving of a madman, chained by a +chain that he cannot break. If I had the strength of the mountains, I +could not move you. I know it. All things I have but this—this love of +yours that you have given to another. I would I had it! I should have +the strength to surpass the deeds of men, had I your love! Who is this +whom you love? A captain? A warrior? I tell you because you have so +honoured him, so raised him upon the throne of your heart, I will honour +him too, and I will raise him above all men, and all the nation shall +bow before him. I will make a decree that he shall be worshipped as a +god—this man whom you have made a god of by your love. I will build a +great temple for you two, and I will go up with all the people, and fall +down and bow before you, and worship you, and love you with every sinew +and bone of my body, and with every hope and joy and sorrow of my soul. +He whom you love shall ask, and whatsoever he asks I will give to him +and to you. There shall not be anything left in the whole world that you +desire, but I will give it to you. Am I not the king of the whole +earth—the king of all living things but you?" +</p> +<p> +Darius breathed savagely hard through his clenched teeth, and rising +suddenly, paced the pavement between Nehushta and the fountain. She was +silent still, overcome with a sort of terror at his words—words, every +one of which he was able to fulfil, if he so chose. Presently he stood +still before her. +</p> +<p> +"Said I not well, that I rave as a madman—that I speak as a fool +without understanding? What can I give you that you want? Or what thing +can I devise that you have need of? Have you not all that the world +holds for mortal woman and living man? Do you not love, and are you not +loved in return? Have you not all—all—all? Ah! woe is me that I am +lord over the nations, and have not a drop of the waters of peace +wherewith to quench the thirst of my tormented soul! Woe is me that I +rule the world and trample the whole earth beneath my feet, and cannot +have the one thing that all the earth holds which is good! Woe is me, +Nehushta, that you have cruelly stolen my peace from me, and I find it +not—nor shall find it for evermore!" +</p> +<p> +The strong dark man stood wringing his hands together; his face was pale +as the dead, his black eyes were blazing with a mad fire. Nehushta dared +not look on the tempest she had roused, but she trembled and clasped her +hands to her breast and looked down. +</p> +<p> +"Nay, you are right," he cried bitterly. "Answer me nothing, for you can +have nothing to answer! Is it your fault that I am mad? Or is it your +doing that I love you so? Has any one sinned in this? I have seen you—I +saw you for a brief moment standing in the door of your tent—and +seeing, I loved you, and love you, and shall love you till the heavens +are rolled together and the scroll of all death is full! There is +nothing, nothing that you can say or do. It is not your fault—it is not +your sin; but it is by you and through you that I am undone,—broken as +the tree in the storm of the mountains, burned up and parched as the +beast perishing in the sun of the desert for lack of water, torn asunder +and rent into pieces as the rope that breaks at the well! By you, and +for you, and through you, I am ruined and lost—lost—lost for ever in +the hell of my wretched greatness, in the immeasurable death of my own +horrible despair!" +</p> +<p> +With a wild movement of agony, Darius fell at Nehushta's feet, prostrate +upon the marble floor, and buried his face in the skirts of her mantle, +utterly over-mastered and broken down by the tumult of his passion. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta was not heartless. Of a certainty she would have pitied any one +in such distress and grief, even had the cause thereof come less near to +herself. But, in all the sudden emotion she felt, the pity, the fear, +and the self-reproach, there was joined a vague feeling that no man ever +spoke as this man, that no lover ever poured forth such abundant love +before, and in the dim suspicion of something greater than she had ever +known, her fear and her pity grew stronger, and strove with each other. +</p> +<p> +At first she could not speak, but she put forth her delicate hand and +laid it tenderly on the king's thick black hair, as gently as a mother +might soothe a passionate child; and he suffered it to rest there. And +presently she raised his head and laid it in her lap, and smoothed his +forehead with her soft fingers, and spoke to him. +</p> +<p> +"You make me very sad," she almost whispered. "I would that you might be +loved as you deserve love—that one more worthy than I might give you +all I cannot give." +</p> +<p> +He opened his dark eyes that were now dull and weary, and he looked up +to her face. +</p> +<p> +"There is none more worthy than you," he answered in low and broken +tones. +</p> +<p> +"Hush," she said gently, "there are many. Will you forgive me—and +forget me? Will you blot out this hour from your remembrance, and go +forth and do those great and noble deeds which you came into the world +to perform? There is none greater than you, none nobler, none more +generous." +</p> +<p> +Darius lifted his head from her knee, and sprang to his feet. +</p> +<p> +"I will do all things, but I will not forget," he said. "I will do the +great and the good deeds,—for you. I will be generous, for you; noble, +for you; while the world lasts my deeds shall endure; and with them, the +memory that they were done for you! Grant me only one little thing." +</p> +<p> +"Ask anything—everything," answered Nehushta, in troubled tones. +</p> +<p> +"Nehushta, you know how truly I love you—nay, I will not be mad again; +fear not! Tell me this—tell me that if you had not loved Zoroaster, you +would have loved me." +</p> +<p> +Nehushta blushed deeply and then turned pale. She rose to her feet, and +took the king's outstretched hands. +</p> +<p> +"Indeed, indeed, you are most worthy of love—Darius, I could have loved +you well." Her voice was very low, and the tears stood in her eyes. +</p> +<p> +"The grace of the All-Wise God bless thee!" cried the king, and it was +as though a sudden bright light shone upon his face. Then he kissed her +two hands fervently, and with one long look into her sorrowful eyes, he +turned and left her. +</p> +<p> +But no man saw the king that day, nor did any know where he was, saving +the two spearmen who stood at the door of his chamber. Within, he lay +upon his couch, dry-eyed and stark, staring at the painted carvings of +the ceiling. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0022" id="h2HCH0022"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER XI. +</h2> +<p> +The time passed, and it was eleven days since Zoroaster had set out. The +king and Nehushta had continued to meet in the garden as before, and +neither had ever referred to the day when the torrent of his heart had +been suddenly let loose. The hours sped quietly and swiftly, without any +event of importance. Only the strange bond, half friendship and half +love, had grown stronger than before; and Nehushta wondered how it was +that she could love two men so well, and yet so differently. Indeed they +were very different men. She loved Zoroaster, and yet it sometimes +seemed as though he would more properly have filled the place of a +friend than of a lover. Darius she had accepted as her friend, but there +were moments when she almost forgot that he was not something more. She +tried to think of her meeting with Zoroaster, whether it would be like +former meetings,—whether her heart would beat more strongly, or not +beat at all when her lips touched his as of old. Her judgment was +utterly disturbed and her heart no longer knew itself. She gave herself +over to the pleasure of the king's society in the abandonment of the +moment, half foreseeing that some great change was at hand, over which +she could exercise no control. +</p> +<p> +The sun was just risen, but the bridge over the quickly flowing Choaspes +was still in the shadow cast over the plain by the fortress and the +palace, when two horsemen appeared upon the road from Nineveh, riding +at full gallop, and, emerging from the blue mist that still lay over the +meadows, crossed the bridge and continued at full speed towards the +ascent to the palace. +</p> +<p> +The one rider was a dark, ill-favoured man, whose pale flaccid cheeks +and drooping form betrayed the utmost fatigue. A bolster was bound +across the withers of his horse and another on the croup, so that he sat +as in a sort of chair, but he seemed hardly able to support himself even +with this artificial assistance, and his body swayed from side to side +as his horse bounded over the sharp curve at the foot of the hill. His +mantle was white with dust, and the tiara upon his head was reduced to a +shapeless and dusty piece of crumpled linen, while his uncurled hair and +tangled beard hung forward together in disorderly and dust-clotted +ringlets. +</p> +<p> +His companion was Zoroaster, fair and erect upon his horse, as though he +had not ridden three hundred farsangs in eleven days. There was dust +indeed upon his mantle and garments, as upon those of the man he +conducted, but his long fair hair and beard blew back from his face as +he held his head erect to the breeze he made in riding, and the light +steel cap was bright and burnished on his forehead. A slight flush +reddened his pale cheeks as he looked upward to the palace, and thought +that his ride was over and his errand accomplished. He was weary, almost +to death; but his frame was elastic and erect still. +</p> +<p> +As they rode up the steep, the guards at the outer gate, who had already +watched them for twenty minutes as they came up the road, mere moving +specks under the white mist, shouted to those within that Zoroaster was +returning, and the officer of the gate went at once to announce his +coming to the king. Darius himself received the message, and followed +the officer down the steps to the tower of the gateway, reaching the +open space within, just as the two riders galloped under the square +entrance and drew rein upon the pavement of the little court. The +spearmen sprang to their feet and filed into rank as the cry came down +the steps that the king was approaching, and Zoroaster leaped lightly +from his horse, and bid Phraortes do likewise; but the wretched Median +could scarce move hand or foot without help, and would have fallen +headlong, had not two stout spearmen lifted him to the ground, and held +him upon his legs. +</p> +<p> +Darius marched quickly up to the pair and stood still, while Zoroaster +made his brief salutation. Phraortes, who between deadly fatigue and +deadly fear of his life, had no strength left in him, fell forward upon +his knees as the two soldiers relaxed their hold upon his arms. +</p> +<p> +"Hail, king of kings! Live for ever!" said Zoroaster. "I have fulfilled +thy bidding. He is alive." +</p> +<p> +Darius laughed grimly as he eyed the prostrate figure of the Median. +</p> +<p> +"Thou art a faithful servant, Zoroaster," he answered, "and thou ridest +as the furies that pursue the souls of the wicked—as the devils of the +mountains after a liar. He would not have lasted much farther, this +bundle of sweating dust. Get up, fellow!" he said, touching Phraortes's +head with his toe. "Thou liest grovelling there like a swine in a +ditch." +</p> +<p> +The soldiers raised the exhausted man to his feet. The king turned to +Zoroaster. +</p> +<p> +"Tell me, thou rider of whirlwinds," he said, laughing, "will a man more +readily tell the truth, or speak lies, when he is tired?" +</p> +<p> +"A man who is tired will do whichever will procure him rest," returned +Zoroaster, with a smile. +</p> +<p> +"Then I will tell this fellow that the sooner he speaks the truth the +sooner he may sleep," said the king. Going near to Zoroaster, he added +in an undertone: "Before thou thyself restest, go and tell the queen +privately that she send away her slaves, and await me and him thou hast +brought in a few minutes. This fellow must have a little refreshment, or +he will die upon the steps." +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster turned and went up the broad stairs, and threaded the courts +and passages, and mounted to the terrace where he had first met Atossa +before the king's apartments. There was no one there, and he was about +to enter under the great curtain, when the queen herself came out and +met him face to face. Though it was yet very early, she was attired with +more than usual care, and the faint colours of her dress and the few +ornaments she wore, shone and gleamed brightly in the level beams of the +morning sun. She had guessed that Zoroaster would return that day, and +she was prepared for him. +</p> +<p> +As she came suddenly upon him, she gave a little cry, that might well +have been feigned. +</p> +<p> +"What! Are you already returned?" she asked, and the joy her voice +expressed was genuine. He looked so godlike as he stood there in the +sunlight—her heart leaped for joy of only seeing him. +</p> +<p> +"Yes—I bear this message from the Great King to the queen. The Great +King commands that the queen send away her slaves, and await the king +and him I have brought with me, in the space of a few minutes." +</p> +<p> +"It is well," answered Atossa, "There are no slaves here and I await the +king." She was silent a moment. "Are you not glad to have come back?" +she asked, presently. +</p> +<p> +"Yes," said Zoroaster, whose face brightened quickly as he spoke. "I am +indeed glad to be here again. Would not any one be glad to have finished +such a journey?" +</p> +<p> +The queen stood with her back to the curtained doorway and could see +down the whole length of the balcony to the head of the staircase. +Zoroaster faced her and the door. As he spoke, Atossa's quick eyes +caught sight of a figure coming quickly up the last steps of the +stairway. She recognised Nehushta instantly, but no trembling of her +lids or colouring of her cheek, betrayed that she had seen the approach +of her enemy. She fixed her deep-blue eyes upon Zoroaster's, and gazing +somewhat sadly, she spoke in low and gentle tones: +</p> +<p> +"The time has seemed long to me since you rode away, Zoroaster," she +said. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster, astonished at the manner in which she spoke, turned pale, and +looked down coldly at her beautiful face. At that moment Nehushta +stepped upon the smooth marble pavement of the balcony. +</p> +<p> +Still Atossa kept her eyes fixed on Zoroaster's. +</p> +<p> +"You answer me nothing?" she said in broken tones. Then suddenly, as +though acting under an irresistible impulse, she threw her arms wildly +about his neck and kissed him passionately again and again. +</p> +<p> +"Oh Zoroaster, Zoroaster, my beloved!" she cried, "you must never, never +leave me again!" And again she kissed him, and fell forward upon his +breast, holding him so tightly that, for a moment, he did not know which +way to move. He put his hands upon her shoulders, to her waist—to try +to push her from him. But it was in vain; she clung to him desperately +and sobbed upon his breast. +</p> +<p> +In the sudden and fearful embarrassment in which he was placed, he did +not hear a short, low groan far off behind him, nor the sound of quickly +retreating steps upon the stairs. But Atossa heard and rejoiced +fiercely; and when she looked up, Nehushta was gone, with the incurable +wound in her breast. +</p> +<p> +Atossa suddenly let her arms fall from the warrior's neck, looked into +his eyes once, and then, with a short, sharp cry, she buried her face in +her hands and leaned back against the door-post by the heavy striped +curtain. +</p> +<p> +"Oh, my God! What have I done?" she moaned. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster stood for one moment in hesitation and doubt. It seemed as +though he had received a sudden revelation of numberless things he had +never understood. He spoke quietly, at last, with a great effort, and +his voice sounded kindly. +</p> +<p> +"I thank the good powers that I do not love thee—and I would that thou +didst not love me. For I am the Great King's servant, faithful to +death—and if I loved thee I should be a liar, and a coward, and the +basest of all mankind. Forget, I pray thee, that thou hast spoken, and +let me depart in peace. For the Great King is at hand, and thou must not +suffer that he find thee weeping, lest he think thou fearest to meet +Phraortes the Median face to face. Forget, I pray thee—and forgive thy +servant if he have done anything amiss." +</p> +<p> +Atossa looked up suddenly. Her eyes were bright and clear, and there was +not a trace of tears in them. She laughed harshly. +</p> +<p> +"I—weep before the king! You do not know me. Go, if thou wilt. +Farewell, Zoroaster,"—her voice softened a little,—"farewell. It may +be that you shall live, but it may be that you shall die, because I love +you." +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster bent his head in respectful homage, and turned and went his +way. The queen looked after him, and as he disappeared upon the +staircase, she began to smooth her head-dress and the locks of her +golden hair, and for a moment, she smiled sweetly to herself. +</p> +<p> +"That was a mortal wound, well dealt," she said aloud. But as she gazed +out over the city, her face grew grave and thoughtful. "But I do love +him," she added softly, "I do—I do—I loved him long ago." She turned +quickly, as though fearing some one had overheard her. "How foolish I +am!" she exclaimed impatiently; and she turned and passed away under the +heavy curtain, leaving the long balcony once more empty,—save for the +rush of a swallow that now and then flew in between the pillars, and +hovered for a moment high up by the cornice, and sped out again into the +golden sunshine of the summer morning. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster left Atossa with the hope of finding some means of seeing +Nehushta. But it was impossible. He knew well that he could not so far +presume as to go to her apartment by the lower passage where he had last +seen her on the day of his departure for Ecbatana, and the slave whom he +despatched from the main entrance of the women's part of the palace +returned with the brief information that Nehushta was alone in her +chamber, and that no one dared disturb her. +</p> +<p> +Worn out with fatigue and excitement, and scarcely able to think +connectedly upon the strange event of the morning, Zoroaster wearily +resigned himself to seeing Nehushta at a later hour, and entering his +own cool chamber, lay down to rest. It was evening when he awoke. +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile the king commanded that Phraortes should be fed and refreshed, +and immediately brought to the queen's apartment. Half an hour after +Zoroaster had left her, Atossa was in the chamber which was devoted to +her toilet. She sat alone before her great silver mirror, calmly +awaiting the turn of events. Some instinct had told her that she would +feel stronger to resist an attack in the sanctuary of her small inner +room, where every object was impregnated with her atmosphere, and where +the lattices of the two windows were so disposed that she would be able +to see the expression of her adversaries without exposing her own face +to the light. +</p> +<p> +She leaned forward and looked closely at herself in the glass, and with +a delicate brush of camel's hair smoothed one eyebrow that was a little +ruffled. It had touched Zoroaster's tunic when she threw herself upon +his breast; she looked at herself with a genuine artistic pleasure, and +smiled. +</p> +<p> +Before long she heard the sound of leathern shoes upon the pavement +outside, and the curtain was suddenly lifted. Darius pushed Phraortes +into the room by the shoulders and made him stand before the queen. She +rose and made a salutation, and then sat down again in her carved chair. +The king threw himself upon a heap of thick, hard cushions that formed a +divan on one side of the room, and prepared to watch attentively the two +persons before him. +</p> +<p> +Phraortes, trembling with fear and excessive fatigue, fell upon his +knees before Atossa, and touched the floor with his forehead. +</p> +<p> +"Get upon thy feet, man," said the king shortly, "and render an account +of the queen's affairs." +</p> +<p> +"Stay," said Atossa, calmly; "for what purpose has the Great King +brought this man before me?" +</p> +<p> +"For my pleasure," answered Darius. "Speak fellow! Render thy account, +and if I like not the manner of thy counting, I will crucify thee." +</p> +<p> +"The king liveth for ever," said Phraortes feebly, his flaccid cheeks +trembling, as his limbs moved uneasily. +</p> +<p> +"The queen also liveth for ever," remarked Darius. "What is the state +of the queen's lands at Ecbatana?" +</p> +<p> +At this question Phraortes seemed to take courage, and began a rapid +enumeration of the goods, cattle and slaves. +</p> +<p> +"This year I have sown two thousand acres of wheat which will soon be +ripe for the harvest. I have sown also a thousand acres with other +grain. The fields of water-melons are yielding with amazing abundance +since I caused the great ditches to be dug last winter towards the road. +As for the fruit trees and the vinelands, they are prospering; but at +present we have not had rain to push the first budding of the grapes. +The olives will doubtless be very abundant this year, for last year +there were few, as is the manner with that fruit. As for the yielding of +these harvests of grain and wine and oil and fruit, I doubt not that the +whole sales will amount to an hundred talents of gold." +</p> +<p> +"Last year they only yielded eighty-five," remarked the queen, who had +affected to listen to the whole account with the greatest interest. "I +am well pleased, Phraortes. Tell me of the cattle and sheep—and of the +slaves; whether many have died this year." +</p> +<p> +"There are five hundred head of cattle, and one hundred calves dropped +in the last two months. From the scarcity of rain this year, the fodder +has been almost destroyed, and there is little hay from the winter. I +have, therefore, sent great numbers of slaves with camels to the farther +plains to eastward, whence they return daily with great loads of hay—of +a coarse kind, but serviceable. As for the flocks, they are now +pasturing for the summer upon the slopes of the Zagros mountains. There +were six thousand head of sheep and two thousand head of goats at the +shearing in the spring, and the wool is already sold for eight talents. +As for the slaves, I have provided for them after a new fashion. There +were many young men from the captives that came after the war two years +ago. For these I have purchased wives of the dealers from Scythia. These +Scythians sell all their women at a low price. They are hideous +barbarians, speaking a strange tongue, but they are very strong and +enduring, and I doubt not they will multiply exceedingly and bring large +profits—" +</p> +<p> +"Thou art extraordinarily fluent in thy speech," interrupted the king. +"But there are details that the queen wishes to know. Thou art aware +that in a frontier country like the province of Ecbatana, it is often +necessary to protect the crops and the flocks from robbers. Hast thou +therefore thought of arming any of these slaves for this purpose?" +</p> +<p> +"Let not the king be angry with his servant," returned Phraortes, +without hesitation. "There are many thousand soldiers of the king in +Echatana, and the horsemen traverse the country continually. I have not +armed any of the slaves, for I supposed we were safe in the protection +of the king's men. Nevertheless, if the Great King command me—" +</p> +<p> +"Thou couldst arm them immediately, I suppose?" interrupted Darius. He +watched Atossa narrowly; her face was in the shadow. +</p> +<p> +"Nay," replied Phraortes, "for we have no arms. But if the king will +give us swords and spearheads—" +</p> +<p> +"To what end?" asked Atossa. She was perfectly calm since she saw that +there was no fear of Phraortes making a mistake upon this vital point. +"What need have I of a force to protect lands that are all within a +day's journey of the king's fortress? The idea of carrying weapons would +make all the slaves idle and quarrelsome. Leave them their spades and +their ploughs, and let them labour while the soldiers fight. How many +slaves have I now, Phraortes?" +</p> +<p> +"There were, at the last return, fourteen thousand seven hundred and +fifty-three men, ten thousand two hundred and sixteen women, and not +less than five thousand children. But I expect—" +</p> +<p> +"What can you do with so many?" asked Darius, turning sharply to the +queen. +</p> +<p> +"Many of them work in the carpet-looms," answered Phraortes. "The queen +receives fifty talents yearly from the sales of the carpets." +</p> +<p> +"All the carpets in the king's apartments are made in my looms," said +Atossa, with a smile. "I am a great merchant." +</p> +<p> +"I have no doubt I paid you dearly enough for them, too," said the king, +who was beginning to be weary of the examination. He had firmly expected +that either the Median agent, or the queen herself, would betray some +emotion at the mention of arming the slaves, for he imagined that if +Atossa had really planned any outbreak, she would undoubtedly have +employed the large force of men she had at her disposal, by finding them +weapons and promising them their liberty in the event of success. +</p> +<p> +He was disappointed at the appearance of the man Phraortes. He had +supposed him a strong, determined, man of imperious ways and turbulent +instincts, who could be easily led into revolution and sedition from the +side of his ambition. He saw before him the traditional cunning, +quick-witted merchant of Media, pale-faced and easily frightened; no +more capable of a daring stroke of usurpation than a Jewish pedlar of +Babylon. He was evidently a mere tool in the hands of the queen; and +Darius stamped impatiently upon the floor when he thought that he had +perhaps been deceived after all—that the queen had really written to +Phraortes simply on account of her property, and that there was no +revolution at all to be feared. Impulsive to the last degree, when the +king had read the letter to Phraortes, his first thought had been to see +the man for himself, to ask him a few questions and to put him at once +to death if he found him untruthful. The man had arrived, broken with +excessive fatigue and weak from the fearful journey; but under the very +eye of the king, he had nevertheless given a clear and concise account +of himself; and, though he betrayed considerable fear, he gave no reason +for supposing that what he said was not true. As for the queen, she sat +calmly by, polishing her nails with a small instrument of ivory, +occasionally asking a question, or making a remark, as though it were +all the most natural occurrence in the world. +</p> +<p> +Darius was impetuous and fierce. His intuitive decisions were generally +right, and he acted upon them instantly, without hesitation; but he had +no cunning and little strategy. He was always for doing and never for +waiting; and to the extreme rapidity of his movements he owed the +success he had. In the first three years of his reign he fought nineteen +battles and vanquished nine self-styled kings; but he never, on any +occasion, detected a conspiracy, nor destroyed a revolution before it +had broken out openly. He was often, therefore, at the mercy of Atossa +and frequently found himself baffled by her power of concealing a subtle +lie under the letter of truth, and by her supreme indifference and +coldness of manner under the most trying circumstances. In his simple +judgment it was absolutely impossible for any one to lie directly +without betraying some hesitation, and each time he endeavoured to place +Atossa in some difficult position, when she must, he thought, inevitably +betray herself, he was met by her inexplicable calm; which he was forced +to attribute to the fact that she was in the right—no matter how the +evidence might be against her. +</p> +<p> +The king decided that he had made a mistake in the present instance and +that Phraortes was innocent of any idea of revolution. He could not +conceive how such a man should be capable of executing a daring stroke +of policy. He determined to let him go. +</p> +<p> +"You ought to be well satisfied with the result of these accounts," he +said, staring hard at Atossa. "You see you know more of your affairs, +and sooner, than you could have known if you had sent your letter. Let +this fellow go, and tell him to send his accounts regularly in future, +or he will have the pains of riding hither in haste to deliver them. +Thou mayest go now and take thy rest," he added, rising and pushing the +willing Phraortes before him out of the room. +</p> +<p> +"Thou hast done well. I am satisfied with thee, Phraortes," said Atossa +coldly. +</p> +<p> +Once more the beautiful queen was left alone, and once more she looked +at herself in the silver mirror, somewhat more critically than before. +It seemed to her as she gazed and turned first one side of her face to +the light and then the other, that she was a shade paler than usual. The +change would have been imperceptible to any one else, but she noticed it +with a little frown of disapproval. But presently she smoothed her brow +and smiled happily to herself. She had sustained a terrible danger +successfully. +</p> +<p> +She had hoped to have been able to warn Phraortes how to act; but, +partly because the meeting had taken place so soon after his arrival, +and partly because she had employed a portion of that brief interval +with Zoroaster and in the scene she had suddenly invented and acted, she +had been obliged to meet her chief agent without a moment's preparation, +and she knew enough of his cowardly character to fear lest he should +betray her and throw himself upon the king's mercy as a reward for the +information he could give. But the crucial moment had passed +successfully and there was nothing more to fear. Atossa threw herself +upon the couch where the king had sat, and abandoned herself to the +delicious contemplation of the pain she must have given in showing +herself to Nehushta in Zoroaster's arms. She was sure that as the +princess could not have seen Zoroaster's face, she must have thought +that it was he who was embracing the queen. She must have suffered +horribly, if she really loved him! +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0023" id="h2HCH0023"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER XII. +</h2> +<p> +When Darius left the queen, he gave over the miserable Phraortes to the +guards, to be cared for, and bent his steps towards the gardens. It was +yet early, but he wished to be alone, and he supposed that Nehushta +would come there before noon, as was her wont. Meanwhile, he wished to +be free of the court and of the queen. Slowly he entered the marble gate +and walked up the long walk of roses, plucking a leaf now and then, and +twisting it in his fingers, scenting the fresh blossoms with an almost +boyish gladness, and breathing in all the sweet warmth of the summer +morning. He had made a mistake, and he was glad to be away, where he +could calmly reflect upon the reason of his being deceived. +</p> +<p> +He wandered on until he came to the marble pavilion, and would have gone +on to stray farther into the gardens, but that he caught sight of a +woman's mantle upon the floor as he passed by the open doorway. He went +up the few steps and entered. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta lay upon the marble pavement at her full length, her arms +extended above her head. Her face was ghastly pale and her parted lips +were white. She looked as one dead. Her white linen tiara had almost +fallen from her heavy hair, and the long black locks streamed upon the +stone in thick confusion. Her fingers were tightly clenched, and on her +face was such an expression of agony, as Darius had never dreamed of, +nor seen in those dead in battle. +</p> +<p> +The king started back in horror as he caught sight of the prostrate +figure. He thought she was dead—murdered, perhaps—until, as he gazed, +he saw a faint movement of breathing. Then he sprang forward, and +kneeled, and raised her head upon his knee, and chafed her temples and +her hands. He could reach the little fountain as he knelt, and he +gathered some water in his palm and sprinkled it upon her face. +</p> +<p> +At last she opened her eyes—then closed them wearily again—then opened +them once more in quick astonishment, and recognised the king. She would +have made an effort to rise, but he checked her, and she let her head +sink back upon his knee. Still he chafed her temples with his broad, +brown hand, and gazed with anxious tenderness into her eyes, that looked +at him for a moment, and then wandered and then looked again. +</p> +<p> +"What is this?" she asked, vacantly, at last. +</p> +<p> +"I know not," answered the king. "I found you here—lying upon the +floor. Are you hurt?" he asked tenderly. +</p> +<p> +"Hurt? No—yes, I am hurt—hurt even to death," she added suddenly. "Oh, +Darius, I would I could tell you! Are you really my friend?" +</p> +<p> +She raised herself without his help and sat up. The hot blood rushed +back to her cheeks and her eyes regained their light. +</p> +<p> +"Can you doubt that I am your friend, your best friend?" asked the king. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta rose to her feet and paced the little hall in great emotion. +Her hands played nervously with the golden tassels of her mantle, her +head-dress had fallen quite back upon her shoulders, and the masses of +her hair were let loose. From time to time she glanced at the king, who +eyed her anxiously as he stood beside the fountain. +</p> +<p> +Presently she stopped before him, and very gravely fixed her eyes on +him. +</p> +<p> +"I will tell you something," she said, beginning in low tones. "I will +tell you this—I cannot tell you all. I have been horribly deceived, +betrayed, made a sport of. I cannot tell you how—you will believe me, +will you not? This man I loved—I love him not—has cast me off as an +old garment, as a thing of no price—as a shoe that is worn out and that +is not fit for his feet to tread upon. I love him not—I hate him—oh, I +love him not at all!" +</p> +<p> +Darius's face grew dark and his teeth ground hard together, but he stood +still, awaiting what she should say. But Nehushta ceased, and suddenly +she began again to walk up and down, putting her hand to her temples, as +though in pain. Once more she paused, and, in her great emotion laid her +two hands upon the shoulder of the king, who trembled at her touch, as +though a strong man had struck him. +</p> +<p> +"You said you loved me, once," said Nehushta, in short, nervous tones, +almost under her breath. "Do you love me still?" +</p> +<p> +"Is it so long since I told you I loved you?" asked Darius, with a shade +of bitterness. "Ah! do not tempt me—do not stir my sickness. Love you? +Yea—as the earth loves the sun—as man never loved woman. Love you? Ay! +I love you, and I am the most miserable of men." He shook from head to +foot with strong emotion, and the stern lines of his face darkened as he +went on speaking. "Yet, though I love you so, I cannot harm him,—for my +great oath's sake I cannot—yet for you, almost I could. Ah Nehushta, +Nehushta!" he cried passionately, "tempt me not! Ask me not this, for +you can almost make a liar of the Great King if you will!" +</p> +<p> +"I tempt you not," answered the princess. "I will not that you harm a +hair of his head. He is not worthy that you should lift the least of +your fingers to slay him. But this I tell you—" she hesitated. The king +in his violent excitement, as though foreseeing what she would say, +seized her hands and held them tightly while he gazed into her eyes. +</p> +<p> +"Darius," she said, almost hurriedly, "if you love me, and if you desire +it, I will be your wife." +</p> +<p> +A wild light broke from the king's eyes. He dropped her hands and +stepped backwards from her, staring hard. Then, with, a quick motion, he +turned and threw himself upon the marble seat that ran around the hall, +and buried his face and sobbed aloud. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta seemed to regain some of her calmness, when once she had said +the fatal words. She went and knelt beside him and smoothed his brow and +wild, rough hair. The great tears stained his dark cheek. He raised +himself and looked at her and put one arm about her neck. +</p> +<p> +"Nehushta," he whispered, "is it true?" +</p> +<p> +She bowed her head silently. Darius drew her towards him and laid her +cheek upon his breast. His face bent down to hers, most tenderly, as +though he would have kissed her. But suddenly he drew back, and turned +his eyes away. +</p> +<p> +"No," he said, as though he had regained the mastery over himself. "It +is too much to ask—that I might kiss you! It is too much—too +much—that you give me. I am not worthy that you should be my wife. +Nay!" he cried, as she would not let him rise from his seat. "Nay, let +me go, it is not right—it is not worthy—I must not see you any more. +Oh, you have tempted me till I am too weak—" +</p> +<p> +"Darius, you are the noblest of men, the best and bravest." Then with a +sudden impulse it seemed to Nehushta that she really loved him. The +majestic strength of Zoroaster seemed cold and meaningless beside the +fervour of the brave young king, striving so hard to do right under the +sorest temptation, striving to leave her free, even against her will. +For the moment she loved him, as such women do, with a passionate +impulse. She put her arms about him and drew him down to her. +</p> +<p> +"Darius, it is truth—I never loved you, but I love you now, for, of all +living men, you have the bravest heart." She pressed a kiss hotly upon +his forehead and her head sank upon his shoulder. For one moment the +king trembled, and then, as though all resistance were gone from him, +his arms went round her, locking with hers that held him, and he kissed +her passionately. +</p> +<p> +When Zoroaster awoke from his long sleep it was night. He had dreamed +evil dreams, and he woke with a sense of some great disaster impending. +He heard unwonted sounds in the hall outside his chamber, and he sprang +to his feet and called one of the soldiers of his guard. +</p> +<p> +"What is happening?" asked Zoroaster quickly. +</p> +<p> +"The Great King, who lives for ever, has taken a new wife to-day," +answered the soldier, standing erect, but eyeing Zoroaster somewhat +curiously. Zoroaster's heart sank within him. +</p> +<p> +"What? Who is she?" he asked, coming nearer to the man. +</p> +<p> +"The new queen is Nehushta—the Hebrew princess," answered the spearman. +"There is a great banquet, and a feast for the guard, and much food and +wine for the slaves—" +</p> +<p> +"It is well," answered Zoroaster. "Go thou, and feast with the rest." +</p> +<p> +The man saluted, and left the room. Zoroaster remained standing alone, +his teeth chattering together and his strong limbs shaking beneath him. +But he abandoned himself to no frenzy of grief, nor weeping; one seeing +him would have said he was sick of a fever. His blue eyes stared hard at +the lamp-light and his face was white, but he did not so much as utter +an exclamation, nor give one groan. He went and sat down upon a chair +and folded his hands together, as though waiting for some event. But +nothing happened; no one came to disturb him in his solitude, though he +could hear the tramping feet and the unceasing talk of the slaves and +soldiers without. In the vast palace, where thousands dwelt, where all +were feasting or talking of the coming banquet, Zoroaster was utterly +alone. +</p> +<p> +At last he rose, slowly, as though with an effort, and paced twice from +one end of the room to the other. Upon a low shelf on one side, his +garments were folded together, while his burnished cuirass and helmet +and other arms which he had not worn upon his rapid journey to Ecbatana, +hung upon nails in the wall above. He looked at all these things and +turned the clothes over piece by piece, till he had found a great dark +mantle and a black hood such as was worn in Media. These he put on, and +beneath the cloak he girded a broad, sharp knife about him. Then +wrapping himself closely round with the dark-coloured stuff and drawing +the hood over his eyes, he lifted the curtain of his door and went out, +without casting a look behind him. +</p> +<p> +In the crowd of slaves he passed unnoticed; for the hall was but dimly +lighted by a few torches, and every one's attention was upon the doings +of the day and the coming feast. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster soon gathered from the words he heard spoken, that the banquet +had not yet begun, and he hastened to the columned porch through which +the royal party must pass on the way to the great hall which formed the +centre of the main building. Files of spearmen, in their bronze +breastplates and scarlet and blue mantles, lined the way, which was +strewn with yellow sand and myrtle leaves and roses. At every pillar +stood a huge bronze candlestick, in which a torch of wax and fir-gum +burned, and flared, and sent up a cloud of half pungent, half aromatic +smoke. Throngs of slaves and soldiers pressed close behind the lines of +spearmen, elbowing each other with loud jests and surly complaints, to +get a better place, a sea of moving, shouting, gesticulating humanity. +Zoroaster's great height and broad shoulders enabled him easily to push +to the front, and he stood there, disguised and unknown, peering between +the heads of two of his own soldiers to obtain the first view of the +procession as it came down the broad staircase at the end of the porch. +</p> +<p> +Suddenly the blast of deep-toned trumpets was heard in the distance, and +silence fell upon the great multitude. With a rhythmic sway of warlike +tone the clangour rose and fell, and rose again as the trumpeters came +out upon the great staircase and began to descend. After them came other +musicians, whose softer instruments began to be heard in harmony with +the resounding bass of the horns, and then, behind them, came singers, +whose strong, high voices completed the full burst of music that went +before the king. +</p> +<p> +With measured tread the procession advanced. There were neither priests, +nor sacrificers, nor any connected with any kind of temple; but after +the singers came two hundred noble children clad in white, bearing long +garlands of flowers that trailed upon the ground, so that many of the +blossoms were torn off and strewed the sand. +</p> +<p> +But Zoroaster looked neither on the singers, nor on the children. His +eyes were fixed intently on the two figures that followed them—Darius, +the king, and Nehushta, the bride. They walked side by side, and the +procession left an open spaced ten paces before and ten paces behind +the royal pair. Darius wore the tunic of purple and white stripes, the +mantle of Tyrian purple on his shoulders and upon his head the royal +crown of gold surrounded the linen tiara; his left hand, bare and brown +and soldier-like, rested upon the golden hilt of his sword, and in his +right, as he walked, he carried a long golden rod surmounted by a ball, +twined with myrtle from end to end. He walked proudly forward, and as he +passed, many a spearman thought with pride that the Great King looked as +much a soldier as he himself. +</p> +<p> +By his left side came Nehushta, clad entirely in cloth of gold, while a +mantle of the royal purple hung down behind her. Her white linen tiara +was bound round with myrtle and roses, and in her hands she bore a +myrtle bough. +</p> +<p> +Her face was pale in the torchlight, but she seemed composed in manner, +and from time to time she glanced at the king with a look which was +certainly not one of aversion. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster felt himself growing as cold as ice as they approached, and +his teeth chattered in his head. His brain reeled with the smoke of the +torches, the powerful, moving tones of the music and the strangeness of +the whole sight. It seemed as though it could not be real. He fixed his +eyes upon Nehushta, but his face was shaded all around by his dark hood. +Nevertheless, so intently did he gaze upon her that, as she came near, +she felt his look, as it were, and, searching in the crowd behind the +soldiers, met his eyes. She must have known it was he, even under the +disguise that hid his features, for, though she walked calmly on, the +angry blood rushed to her face and brow, overspreading her features with +a sudden, dark flush. +</p> +<p> +Just as she came up to where Zoroaster stood, he thrust his covered head +far out between the soldiers. His eyes gleamed like coals of blue fire +and his voice came low, with a cold, clear ring, like the blade of a +good sword striking upon a piece of iron. +</p> +<p> +"Faithless!" +</p> +<p> +That was all he said, but all around heard the cutting tone, that +neither the voices of the singers, nor the clangour of the trumpets +could drown. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta drew herself up and paused for one moment, and turned upon the +dark-robed figure a look of such unutterable loathing and scorn as one +would not have deemed could be concentrated in a human face. Then she +passed on. +</p> +<p> +The two spearmen turned quickly upon the man between them, who had +uttered the insult against the new queen, and laid hold of him roughly +by the shoulders. A moment more and his life would have been ended by +their swords. But his strong, white hands stole out like lightning, and +seized each soldier by the wrist, and twisted their arms so suddenly and +with such furious strength, that they cried aloud with pain and fell +headlong at his feet. The people parted for a space in awe and wonder, +and Zoroaster turned, with his dark mantle close drawn around him, and +strode out through the gaping crowd. +</p> +<p> +"It is a devil of the mountains!" cried one. +</p> +<p> +"It is Ahriman himself!" said another. +</p> +<p> +"It is the soul of the priest of Bel whom the king slew at Babylon!" +</p> +<p> +"It is the Evil Sprit of Cambyses!" +</p> +<p> +"Nay," quoth one of the spearmen, rubbing his injured hand, "it was +Zoroaster, the captain. I saw his face beneath that hood he wore." +</p> +<p> +"It may be," answered his fellow. "They say he can break a bar of iron, +as thick as a man's three fingers, with his hand. But I believe it was a +devil of the mountains." +</p> +<p> +But the procession marched on, and long before the crowd had recovered +enough from its astonishment to give utterance to these surmises, +Zoroaster had passed out of the porch and back through the deserted +courts, and down the wide staircase to the palace gate, and out into the +quiet, starlit night, alone and on foot. +</p> +<p> +He would have no compromise with his grief; he would be alone with it. +He needed not mortal sympathy and he would not have the pity of man. The +blow had struck home with deadly certainty and the wound was such as man +cannot heal, neither woman. The fabric of happiness, which in a year he +had built himself, was shattered to its foundation, and the fall of it +was fearful. The ruin of it reached over the whole dominion of his soul +and rent all the palace of his body. The temple that had stood so fair, +whither his heart had gone up to worship his beloved one, was destroyed +and utterly beaten to pieces; and the ruin of it was as a heap of dead +bones, so loathsome in decay, that the eyes of his spirit turned in +horror and disgust from the inward contemplation of so miserable a +sight. +</p> +<p> +Alone and on foot, he went upon his dreary way, dry-eyed and calm. There +was nothing left of all his past life that he cared for. His armour hung +in his chamber in the palace and with it he left the Zoroaster he had +known—the strong, the young, the beautiful; the warrior, the lover, the +singer of sweet songs, the smiter of swift blows, the peerless horseman, +the matchless man. He who went out alone into the great night, was a +moving sorrow, a horror of grief made visible as a walking shadow among +things real, a man familiar already with death as with a friend, and +with the angel of death as with a lover. +</p> +<p> +Alone—it was a beginning of satisfaction to be away from all the crowd +of known and unknown faces familiar to his life—but the end and +attainment of satisfaction could only come when he should be away from +himself, from the heavy body that wearied him, and from the heavier soul +that was crushed with itself as with a burden. For sorrow was his +companion from that day forth, and grief undying was his counsellor. +</p> +<p> +Ah God! She was so beautiful and her love was so sweet and strong! Her +face had been as the face of an angel, and her virgin-heart as the +innermost leaves of the rose that are folded together in the bud before +the rising of the sun. Her kiss was as the breath of spring that +gladdens the earth into new life, her eyes as crystal wells, from the +depths whereof truth rose blushing to the golden light of day. Her lips +were so sweet that a man wondered how they could ever part, till, when +they parted, her gentle breath bore forth the music of her words, that +was sweeter than all created sounds. She was of all earthly women the +most beautiful—the very most lovely thing that God had made; and of all +mortal women that have loved, her love had been the purest, the +gentlest, the truest. There was never woman like to her, nor would be +again. +</p> +<p> +And yet—scarce ten days had changed her, had so altered and disturbed +the pure elements of her wondrous nature that she had lied to herself +and lied to her lover the very lie of lies—for what? To wear a piece of +purple of a richer dye than other women wore, to bind her hair with a +bit of gold, to be called a queen—a queen forsooth! when she had been +from her birth up the sovereign queen of all created women! +</p> +<p> +The very lie of lies! Was there ever such a monstrous lie since the +world first learned the untruths of the serpent's wisdom? Had she not +sworn and promised, by the holiness of her God, to love Zoroaster for +ever? For ever. O word, that had meant heaven, and now meant hell!—that +had meant joy without any end and peace and all love!—that meant now +only pain eternal, and sorrow, and gnawing torment of a wound that would +never heal! O Death, that yesterday would have seemed Life for her! O +Life, that to-day, by her, was made the Death of deaths! +</p> +<p> +Emptiness of emptiness—the whole world one hollow cavern of +vanity—lifeless and lightless, where the ghosts of the sorrows of men +moan dismally, and the shadows of men's griefs scream out their wild +agony upon the ghastly darkness! Night, through which no dawn shall +ever gleam, fleet and fair, to touch with rosy fingers the eyes of a +dead world and give them sight! Winter, of unearthly cold, that through +all the revolving ages of untiring time, shall never see the face of +another spring, nor feel its icy veins thawing with the pulses of a +forgotten life, quickened from within with the thrilling hope of a new +and glorious birth! +</p> +<p> +Far out upon the southern plain Zoroaster lay upon the dew-wet ground +and gazed up into the measureless depths of heaven, where the stars +shone out like myriads of jewels set in the dark mantle of night! +</p> +<p> +Gradually, as he lay, the tempest of his heart subsided, and the calm of +the vast solitude descended upon him, even as the dew had descended upon +the earth. His temples ceased to throb with the wild pulse that sent +lightnings through his brain at every beat, and from the intensity of +his sorrow, his soul seemed to float upwards to those cool depths of the +outer firmament where no sorrow is. His eyes grew glassy and fixed, and +his body rigid in the night-dews; and his spirit, soaring beyond the +power of earthly forces to weigh down its flight, rose to that lofty +sphere where the morning and the evening are but one eternal day, where +the mighty unison of the heavenly chorus sends up its grand plain-chant +to God Most High. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0024" id="h2HCH0024"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER XIII. +</h2> +<p> +Far in the wild mountains of the south, where a primeval race of +shepherds pastures its flocks of shaggy goats upon the scanty vegetation +of rocky slopes, there is a deep gorge whither men seldom penetrate, and +where the rays of the sun fall but for a short hour at noonday. A man +may walk, or rather climb, along the side of the little stream that +rushes impetuously down among the black rocks, for a full hour and a +half before he reaches the end of the narrow valley. Then he will come +upon a sunken place, like a great natural amphitheatre, the steep walls +of boulders rising on all sides to a lofty circle of dark crags. In the +midst of this open space a spring rises suddenly from beneath a mass of +black stone, with a rushing, gurgling sound, and makes a broad pool, +whence the waters flow down in a little torrent through the gorge till +they emerge far below into the fertile plain and empty themselves into +the Araxes, which flows by the towers and palaces of lordly Stakhar, +more than two days' journey from the hidden circle in the mountains. +</p> +<p> +It would have been a hard thing to recognise Zoroaster in the man who +sat day after day beside the spring, absorbed in profound meditation. +His tall figure was wasted almost to emaciation by fasting and exposure; +his hair and beard had turned snow-white, and hung down in abundant +masses to his waist, and his fair young face was pale and transparent. +But in his deep blue eyes there was a light different from the light of +other days—the strange calm fire of a sight that looks on wondrous +things, and sees what the eyes of men may not see, and live. +</p> +<p> +Nearly three years had passed since he went forth from the palace of +Shushan, to wander southwards in search of a resting-place, and he was +but three-and-thirty years of age. But between him and the past there +was a great gulf—the interval between the man and the prophet, between +the cares of mortality and the divine calm of the higher life. +</p> +<p> +From time to time indeed, he ascended the steep path he had made among +the stones and rocks, to the summit of the mountain; and there he met +one of the shepherds of the hills, who brought him once every month a +bag of parched grain and a few small, hard cheeses of goats' milk; and +in return for these scanty provisions, he gave the man each time a link +from the golden chain he had worn and which was still about his neck +when he left the palace. Three-and-thirty links were gone since he had +come there, and the chain was shorter by more than half its length. It +would last until the thousand days were accomplished, and there would +still be much left. Auramazda, the All-Wise, would provide. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster sat by the spring and watched the crystal waters sparkle in +the brief hour of sunshine at noonday, and turn dark and deep again when +the light was gone. He moved not through the long hours of day, sitting +as he had sat in that place now for three years neither scorched by the +short hours of sunlight, nor chilled by winter's frost and snow. The +wild long-haired sheep of the mountain came down to drink at noon, and +timidly gazed with their stupid eyes at the immovable figure; and at +evening the long-bodied, fierce-eyed wolves would steal stealthily among +the rocks and come and snuff the ground about his feet, presently +raising their pointed heads with a long howl of fear, and galloping away +through the dusk in terror, as though at something unearthly. +</p> +<p> +And when at last the night was come, Zoroaster arose and went to the +spot where the rocks, overhanging together, left a space through which +one might enter; and the white-haired man gave one long look at the +stars overhead, and disappeared within. +</p> +<p> +There was a vast cave, the roof reaching high up in a great vault; the +sides black and polished, as though smoothed by the hands of cunning +workmen; the floor a bed of soft, black sand, dry and even as the +untrodden desert. In the midst, a boulder of black rock lay like a huge +ball, and upon its summit burned a fire that was never quenched, and +that needed no replenishing with fuel. The tall pointed flame shed a +strangely white light around, that flashed and sparkled upon the smooth +black walls of the cavern, as though they were mirrors. The flame also +was immovable; it neither flickered, nor rose, nor fell; but stood as it +were a spear-head of incandescent gold upon the centre of the dark +altar. There was no smoke from that strange fire, nor any heat near it, +as from other fires. +</p> +<p> +Then Zoroaster bent and put forth his forefinger and traced a figure +upon the sand, which was like a circle, save that it was cut from +north-west to south-east by two straight lines; and from north-east to +south-west by two straight lines; and at each of the four small arcs, +where the straight lines cut the circumference of the great circle, a +part of a smaller circle outside the great one united the points over +each other. And upon the east side, toward the altar, the great circle +was not joined, but open for a short distance.<a href="#note-5" name="noteref-5"><small>5</small></a> +</p> +<p> +When the figure was traced, Zoroaster came out from it and touched the +black rock whereon the fire burned; and then he turned back and entered +the circle, and with his fingers joined it where it was open on the east +side through which he had entered. And immediately, as the circle was +completed, there sprung up over the whole line he had traced a soft +light; like that of the fire, but less strong. Then Zoroaster lay down +upon his back, with his feet to the west and his head toward the altar, +and he folded his hands upon his breast and closed his eyes. As he lay, +his body became rigid and his face as the face of the dead; and his +spirit was loosed in the trance and freed from the bonds of earth, while +his limbs rested. +</p> +<p> +Lying there, separated from the world, cut off within the circle of a +symbolised death by the light of the universal agent,<a href="#note-6" name="noteref-6"><small>6</small></a> Zoroaster +dreamed dreams and saw visions. +</p> +<p> +His mind was first opened to the understanding of those broader +conceptions of space and time of which he had read in the books of +Daniel, his master. He had understood the principles then, but he had +not realised their truth. He was too intimately connected with the life +around him, to be able to see in the clearer light which penetrates with +universal truth all the base forms of perishable matter. +</p> +<p> +Daniel had taught him the first great principles. All men, in their +ignorance, speak of the infinities of space and time as being those +ideas which man cannot of himself grasp or understand. Man, they say, is +limited in capacity; he can, therefore, not comprehend the infinite. A +greater fault than this could not be committed by a thinking being. For +infinity being unending, it is incapable of being limited; it rejects +definition, which belongs, by its nature, to finite things. For +definition means the placing of bounds, and that which is infinite can +have no bounds. The man, therefore, who seeks to bound what has no +bounds, endeavours to define what is, by its nature, undefinable; and +finding that the one poor means which he has of conveying fallacious +impressions of illusory things to his mind through his deadened senses, +is utterly insufficient to give him an idea of what alone is real, he +takes refuge in his crass ignorance and coarse grossness of language, +and asserts boldly that the human mind is too limited in its nature to +conceive of infinite space, or of infinite time. +</p> +<p> +Not only is the untrammelled mind of man capable of these bolder +conceptions, but even the wretched fool who sees in the material world +the whole of what man can know, could never get so far as to think even +of the delusive objects on which he pins his foolish faith, unless the +very mind which he insults and misunderstands, had by its nature that +infinite capacity of comprehension which, he says, exists not. For +otherwise, if the mind be limited, there must be a definite limit to its +comprehensive faculty, and it is easy to conceive that such a limit +would soon become apparent to every student; as apparent as it is that a +being, confined within three dimensions of space, cannot, without +altering his nature, escape from these three dimensions, nor from the +laws which govern matter having length, breadth and thickness alone, +without the external fourth dimension, with its interchangeability of +exterior and interior angles. +</p> +<p> +The very thought that infinite space cannot be understood, is itself a +proof that the mind unconsciously realises the precise nature of such +infinity, in attributing to it at once the all-comprehensiveness from +which there is no escape, in which all dimensions exist, and by virtue +of which all other conceptions become possible; since this infinite +space contains in itself all dimensions of existence—transitory, real +and potential; and if the capacity of the mind is co-extensive with the +capacity of infinite space, since it feels itself undoubtedly capable of +grasping any limited idea contained in any portion of the illimitable +whole, it follows that the mind is of itself as infinite as the space in +which all created things have their transitory form of being, and in +which all uncreated truths exist eternally. The mind is aware of +infinity by that true sort of knowledge which is an intimate conviction +not dependent upon the operation of the senses. +</p> +<p> +Gradually, too, as Zoroaster fixed his intuition upon the first main +principle of all possible knowledge, he became aware of the chief +cause—of the universal principal of vivifying essence, which pervades +all things, and in which arises motion as the original generator of +transitory being. The great law of division became clear to him—the +separation for a time of the universal agent into two parts, by the +separation and reuniting of which comes light and heat and the hidden +force of life, and the prime rules of attractive action; all things that +are accounted material. He saw the division of darkness and light, and +how all things that are in the darkness are reflected in the light; and +how the light which we call light is in reality darkness made visible, +whereas the true light is not visible to the eyes that are darkened by +the gross veil of transitory being. And as from the night of earth, his +eyes were gradually opened to the astral day, he knew that the forms +that move and have being in the night are perishable and utterly unreal; +whereas the purer being which is reflected in the real light is true and +endures for ever. +</p> +<p> +Then, by his knowledge and power, and by the light that was in him, he +divided the portion of the universal agent that was in the cave where he +dwelt into two portions, and caused them to reunite in the midst upon +the stone that was there; and the flame burned silently and without heat +upon his altar, day and night, without intermission; and by the division +of the power within him, he could divide the power also that was latent +in other transitory beings, according to those laws which, being +eternal, are manifested in things not eternal, but perishable. +</p> +<p> +And further, he meditated upon the seven parts of man, and upon their +separation, and upon the difference of their nature. +</p> +<p> +For the first element of man is perishable matter. +</p> +<p> +And the second element of man is the portion of the universal agent +which gives him life. +</p> +<p> +And the third element of man is the reflection of his perishable +substance in the astral light, coincident with him, but not visible to +his earthly eye. +</p> +<p> +The fourth element of man is made up of all the desires he feels by his +material senses. This part is not real being, nor transitory being, but +a result. +</p> +<p> +The fifth element of man is that which says: "I am," whereby a man knows +himself from other men; and with it there is an intelligence of lower +things, but no intelligence of things higher. +</p> +<p> +The sixth element is the pure understanding, eternal and co-extensive +with all infinity of time and space—real, imperishable, invisible to +the eye of man. +</p> +<p> +The seventh element is the soul from God. +</p> +<p> +Upon these things Zoroaster meditated long, and as his perishable body +became weakened and emaciated with fasting and contemplation, he was +aware that, at times, the universal agent ceased to be decomposed and +recomposed in the nerves of his material part, so that his body became +as though dead, and with, it the fourth element which represents the +sense of mortal desires; and he himself, the three highest elements of +him,—his individuality, his intelligence and his soul,—became +separated for a time from all that weighed them down; and his mind's +eyes were opened, and he saw clearly in the astral light, with an +intuitive knowledge of true things, and false. +</p> +<p> +And so, night after night, he lay upon the floor of his cavern, rigid +and immovable; his body protected from all outer harmful influences by +the circle of light he had acquired the power of producing. For though +there was no heat in the flame, no mortal breathing animal could so much +as touch it with the smallest part of his body without being instantly +destroyed as by lightning. And so he was protected from all harm in his +trances; and he left his body at will and returned to it, and it +breathed again, and was alive. +</p> +<p> +So he saw into the past and into the present and into the future, and +his soul was purified beyond the purity of man, and soared upwards, and +dreamed of the eternal good and of the endless truth; and at last it +seemed to him that he should leave his body in its trance, and never +return to it, nor let it breathe again. For since it was possible thus +to cast off mortality and put on immortality, it seemed to him that it +was but a weariness to take up the flesh and wear it, when it was so +easy to lay it down. Almost he had determined that he would then let +death come, as it were unawares, upon his perishable substance, and +remain for ever in the new life he had found. +</p> +<p> +But as his spirit thought in this wise, he heard a voice speaking to +him, and he listened. +</p> +<p> +"One moment is as another, and there is no difference between one time +and another time." +</p> +<p> +"One moment in eternity is of as great value as another moment, for +eternity changes not, neither is one part of it better than another +part." +</p> +<p> +"Though man be immortal as to his soul, he is mortal as to his body, and +the time which his soul shall spend in his body is of as great worth to +him as the time which he shall spend without it." +</p> +<p> +"Think not that by wilfully abandoning the body, even though you have +the power and the knowledge to do so, you will escape from the state in +which it has pleased God to put you." +</p> +<p> +"Rather shall your pain and the time of your suffering be increased, +because you have not done with the body that which the body shall do." +</p> +<p> +"The life of the soul while it is in the body, has as much value as when +it has left it. You shall not shorten the time of dwelling in the flesh." +</p> +<p> +"Though you know all things, you know not God. For though you know your +body which is in the world, and the world which is in time, and time +which is in space, yet your knowledge goeth no farther, for space and +all that therein is, is in God.<a href="#note-7" name="noteref-7"><small>7</small></a>" +</p> +<p> +"You have learned earthly things and heavenly things. Learn then that +you shall not escape the laws of earth while you are on earth, nor the +laws of heaven when you are in heaven. Lift up your heart to God, but do +in the body those things which are of the body." +</p> +<p> +"There are other men put into the world besides you. If you leave the +world, what does your knowledge profit other men? And yet it is to +profit other men that God has put you into the world." +</p> +<p> +"And not you only, but every man. The labour of man is to man, and the +labour of angels to angels. But the time of man is as valuable in the +sight of God, as the time of angels." +</p> +<p> +"All things that are not accomplished in their time shall be left +unaccomplished for ever and ever. If while you are in the flesh, you +accomplish not the things of the flesh after the manner of your +humanity, you shall enter into the life of the spirit as one blind, or +maimed; for your part is not fulfilled." +</p> +<p> +"Wisdom is this. A man shall not care for the things of the world for +himself, and his soul shall be lifted and raised above all that is mean +and perishable; but he shall perform his part without murmuring. He +shall not forget the perishable things, though he soar to the +imperishable." +</p> +<p> +"For man is to man as one portion of eternity to another; and as +eternity would be imperfect if one moment could be removed, so also the +earth would be imperfect if one man should be taken from it before his +appointed time." +</p> +<p> +"If a man therefore take himself out of the world, he causes +imperfection, and sins against perfection, which is the law of God." +</p> +<p> +"Though the world be in darkness, the darkness is necessary to the +light. Though the world perish, and heaven perish not for ever, yet is +the perishable necessary to the eternal." +</p> +<p> +"For the transitory and the unchangeable exist alike in eternity and are +portions of it. And one moment is as another, and there is no difference +between one time and another time." +</p> +<p> +"Go, therefore, and take up your body, and do with it the deeds of the +body among men; for you have deeds to do, and unless they are done in +their time, which is now, they will be unfulfilled for ever, and you +will become an imperfect spirit." +</p> +<p> +"The imperfect spirit shall be finally destroyed, for nothing that is +imperfect shall endure. To be perfect all things must be fulfilled, all +deeds done, in the season while the spirit is in darkness with the body. +The deeds perish, and the body which doeth them, but the soul of the +perfect man is eternal, and the reflection of what he has done, abides +for ever in the light." +</p> +<p> +"Hasten, for your time is short. You have learned all things that are +lawful to be learnt, and your deeds shall be sooner accomplished." +</p> +<p> +"Hasten, for one moment is as another, and there is no difference +between the value of one time and of another time." +</p> +<p> +"The moment which passes returns not, and the thing which a man should +do in one time cannot be done in another time." +</p> +<p> +The voice ceased, and the spirit of Zoroaster returned to his body in +the cave, and his eyes opened. Then he rose, and standing within the +circle, cast sand upon the portion towards the east; and so soon as the +circle was broken, it was extinguished and there remained nothing but +the marks Zoroaster had traced with his fingers upon the black sand. +</p> +<p> +He drew his tattered mantle around him, and went to the entrance of the +cave, and passed out. And it was night. +</p> +<p> +Overhead, the full moon cast her broad rays vertically into the little +valley, and the smooth black stones gleamed darkly. The reflection +caught the surface of the little pool by the spring, and it was turned +to a silver shield of light. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster came forward and stood beside the fountain, and the glory of +the moon fell upon his white locks and beard and on the long white hand +he laid upon the rock. +</p> +<p> +His acute senses, sharpened beyond those of men by long solitude and +fasting, distinguished the step of a man far up the height on the +distant crags, and his keen sight soon detected a figure descending +cautiously, but surely, towards the deep abyss where Zoroaster stood. +More and more clearly he saw him, till the man was near, and stood upon +an overhanging boulder within speaking distance. He was the shepherd +who, from time to time, brought food to the solitary mystic; and who +alone, of all the goatherds in those hills, would have dared to invade +the sacred precincts of Zoroaster's retreat. He was a brave fellow, but +the sight of the lonely man by the fountain awed him; it seemed as +though his white hair emitted a light of its own under the rays of the +moon, and he paused in fear lest the unearthly ascetic should do him +some mortal hurt. +</p> +<p> +"Wilt thou harm me if I descend?" he called out timidly. +</p> +<p> +"I harm no man," answered Zoroaster. "Come in peace." +</p> +<p> +The active shepherd swung himself from the boulder, and in a few moments +he stood among the stones at the bottom, a few paces from the man he +sought. He was a dark fellow, clad in goat-skins, with pieces of +leather bound around his short, stout legs. His voice was hoarse, +perhaps with some still unconquered fear, and his staff rattled as he +steadied himself among the stones. +</p> +<p> +"Art not thou he who is called Zoroaster?" he asked. +</p> +<p> +"I am he," answered the mystic. "What wouldest thou?" +</p> +<p> +"Thou knowest that the Great King with his queens and his court are at +the palace of Stakhar," replied the man. "I go thither from time to time +to sell cheeses to the slaves. The Great King has made a proclamation +that whosoever shall bring before him Zoroaster shall receive a talent +of gold and a robe of purple. I am a poor shepherd—fearest thou to go +to the palace?" +</p> +<p> +"I fear nothing. I am past fear these three years." +</p> +<p> +"Will the Great King harm thee, thinkest thou? Thou hast paid me well +for my pains since I first saw thee, and I would not have thee hurt." +</p> +<p> +"No man can harm me. My time is not yet come." +</p> +<p> +"Wilt thou go with me?" cried the shepherd, in sudden delight. "And +shall I have the gold and the robe?" +</p> +<p> +"I will go with thee. Thou shalt have all thou wouldest," answered +Zoroaster. "Art thou ready? I have no goods to burden me." +</p> +<p> +"But thou art old," objected the shepherd, coming nearer. "Canst thou go +so far on foot? I have a beast; I will return with him in the morning, +and meet thee upon the height. I came hither in haste, being but just +returned from Stakhar with the news." +</p> +<p> +"I am younger than thou, though my hair is white. I will go with thee. +Lead the way." +</p> +<p> +He stooped and drank of the fountain in the moonlight, from the hollow +of his hand. Then he turned, and began to ascend the steep side of the +valley. The shepherd led the way in silence, overcome between his awe of +the man and his delight at his own good fortune. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0025" id="h2HCH0025"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER XIV. +</h2> +<p> +It was now three years since Nehushta had been married to Darius, and +the king loved her well. But often, in that time, he had been away from +her, called to different parts of the kingdom by the sudden outbreaks of +revolution which filled the early years of his reign. Each time he had +come back in triumph, and each time he had given her some rich gift. He +found indeed that he had no easy task to perform in keeping the peace +between his two queens; for Atossa seemed to delight in annoying +Nehushta and in making her feel that she was but the second in the +king's favour, whatever distinctions might be offered her. But Darius +was just and was careful that Atossa should receive her due, neither +more nor less. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta was glad when Zoroaster was gone. She had suffered terribly in +that moment when he had spoken to her out of the crowd, and the winged +word had made a wound that rankled still. In those three years that +passed, Atossa never undeceived her concerning the sight she had seen, +and she still believed that Zoroaster had basely betrayed her. It was +impossible, in her view, that it could be otherwise. Had she not seen +him herself? Could any man do such an action who was not utterly base +and heartless? She had, of course, never spoken to Darius of the scene +upon the terrace. She did not desire the destruction of Atossa, nor of +her faithless lover. Amid all the tender kindness the king lavished upon +her, the memory of her first love endured still, and she could not have +suffered the pain of going over the whole story again. He was gone, +perhaps dead, and she would never see him again. He would not dare to +set foot in the court. She remembered the king's furious anger against +him, when he suspected that the hooded man in the procession was +Zoroaster. But Darius had afterwards said, in his usual careless way, +that he himself would have done as much, and that for his oath's sake, +he would never harm the young Persian. By the grace of Auramazda he +swore, he was the king of kings and did not make war upon disappointed +lovers! +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile, Darius had built himself a magnificent palace, below the +fortress of Stakhar, in the valley of the Araxes, and there he spent the +winter and the spring, when the manifold cares of the state would permit +him. He had been almost unceasingly at war with the numerous pretenders +who set themselves up for petty kings in the provinces. With unheard-of +rapidity, he moved from one quarter of his dominions to another, from +east to west, from north to south; but each time that he returned, he +found some little disturbance going on at the court, and he bent his +brows and declared that a parcel of women were harder to govern than all +Media, Persia, and Babylon together. +</p> +<p> +Atossa wearied him with her suggestions. +</p> +<p> +"When the king is gone upon an expedition," she said, "there is no head +in the palace. Otanes is a weak man. The king will not give me the +control of the household, neither will he give it to any one else." +</p> +<p> +"There is no one whom I can trust," answered Darius. "Can you not dwell +together in peace for a month?" +</p> +<p> +"No," answered Atossa, with her winning smile, "it is impossible; the +king's wives will never agree among themselves. Let the king choose some +one and make a head over the palace." +</p> +<p> +"Whom shall I choose?" asked Darius, moodily. +</p> +<p> +"The king had a faithful servant once," suggested Atossa. +</p> +<p> +"Have I none now?" +</p> +<p> +"Yea, but none so faithful as this man of whom I speak, nor so ready to +do the king's bidding. He departed from Shushan when the king took +Nehushta to wife—" +</p> +<p> +"Mean you Zoroaster?" asked Darius, bending his brows, and eyeing Atossa +somewhat fiercely. But she met his glance with indifference. +</p> +<p> +"The same," she answered. "Why not send for him and make him governor of +the palace? He was indeed a faithful servant—and a willing one." +</p> +<p> +Still the king gazed hard at her face, as though trying to fathom the +reason of her request, or at least to detect some scornful look upon her +face to agree with her sneering words. But he was no match for the +unparalleled astuteness of Atossa, though he had a vague suspicion that +she wished to annoy him by calling up a memory which she knew could not +be pleasant, and he retorted in his own fashion. +</p> +<p> +"If Zoroaster be yet alive I will have him brought, and I will make him +governor of the palace. He was indeed a faithful servant—he shall rule +you all and there shall be no more discord among you." +</p> +<p> +And forthwith the king issued a proclamation that whosoever should bring +Zoroaster before him should receive a talent of gold and a robe of +purple as a reward. +</p> +<p> +But when Nehushta heard of it she was greatly troubled; for Atossa began +to tell her that Zoroaster was to return and to be made governor of the +palace; but Nehushta rose and left her forthwith, with such a look of +dire hatred and scorn that even the cold queen thought she had, perhaps, +gone too far. +</p> +<p> +There were other reasons why the king desired Zoroaster's return. He had +often wondered secretly how the man could so have injured Nehushta as to +turn her love into hate in a few moments; but he had never questioned +her. It was a subject neither of them could have approached, and Darius +was far too happy in his marriage to risk endangering that happiness by +any untoward discovery. Nehushta's grief and anger had been so genuine +when she told him of Zoroaster's treachery that it had never occurred to +him that he might be injuring the latter in marrying the princess, +though his generous heart had told him more than once, that Nehushta had +married him half from gratitude for his kindness, and half out of anger +with her false lover; but, capricious as she was in all other things, +towards the king she was always the same, gentle and affectionate, +though there was nothing passionate in her love. And now, the idea of +seeing the man who had betrayed her installed in an official position in +the palace, was terrible to her pride. She could not sleep for thinking +how she should meet him, and what she should do. She grew pale and +hollow-eyed with the anticipation of evil and all her peace went from +her. Deep down in her heart there was yet a clinging affection for the +old love, which she smothered and choked down bravely; but it was there +nevertheless, a sleeping giant, ready to rise and overthrow her whole +nature in a moment, if only she could wash away the stain of +faithlessness which sullied his fair memory, and lift the load of +dishonour which had crushed him from the sovereign place he had held in +the dominion of her soul. +</p> +<p> +Darius was himself curious to ascertain the truth about Zoroaster's +conduct. But another and a weightier reason existed for which he wished +him to return. The king was disturbed about a matter of vital importance +to his kingdom, and he knew that, among all his subjects, there was not +one more able to give him assistance and advice than Zoroaster, the +pupil of the dead prophet Daniel. +</p> +<p> +The religion of the kingdom was of a most uncertain kind. So many +changes had passed over the various provinces which made up the great +empire that, for generations, there had been almost a new religion for +every monarch. Cyrus, inclining to the idolatry of the Phoenicians, had +worshipped the sun and moon, and had built temples and done sacrifice to +them and to a multitude of deities. Cambyses had converted the temples +of his father into places of fire-worship, and had burnt thousands of +human victims; rejoicing in the splendour of his ceremonies and in the +fierce love of blood that grew upon him as his vices obtained the +mastery over his better sense. But under both kings the old Aryan +worship of the Magians had existed among the people, and the Magians +themselves had asserted, whenever they dared, their right to be +considered the priestly caste, the children of the Brahmins of the Aryan +house. Gomata—the false Smerdis—was a Brahmin, at least in name, and +probably in descent; and during his brief reign the only decrees he +issued from his retirement in the palace of Shushan, were for the +destruction of the existing temples and the establishment of the Magian +worship throughout the kingdom. When Darius had slain Smerdis, he +naturally proceeded to the destruction of the Magi, and the streets of +Shushan ran with their blood for many days. He then restored the temples +and the worship of Auramazda, as well as he was able; but it soon became +evident that the religion was in a disorganised state and that it would +be no easy matter to enforce a pure monotheism upon a nation of men who, +in their hearts, were Magians, nature-worshippers; and who, through +successive reigns, had been driven by force to the adoration of strange +idols. It followed that the people resisted the change and revolted +whenever they could find a leader. The numerous revolutions, which cost +Darius no less than nineteen battles, were, almost without exception, +brought about in the attempt to restore the Magian worship in various +provinces of the kingdom, and it may well be doubted whether, at any +time in the world's history, an equal amount of blood was ever shed in +so short a period in the defence of religious convictions. +</p> +<p> +Darius himself was a man who had the strongest belief in the power of +Auramazda, the All-Wise God, and who did not hesitate to attribute all +the evil in the world to Ahriman, the devil. He had a bitter contempt +for all idolatry, nature-worship and superstition generally, and he +adhered in his daily life to the simple practices of the ancient +Mazdayashnians. But he was totally unfitted to be the head of a +religious movement; and, although he had collected such of the +priesthood as seemed most worthy, and had built them temples and given +them privileges of all kinds, he was far from satisfied with their mode +of worship. He could not frame a new doctrine, but he had serious doubts +whether the ceremonies his priests performed were as simple and +religious as he wished them to be. The chants, long hymns of endless +repetition and monotony, were well enough, perhaps; the fire that was +kept burning perpetually was a fitting emblem of the sleepless wisdom +and activity of the Supreme Being in overcoming darkness with light. But +the boundless intoxication into which the priests threw themselves by +the excessive drinking of the Haoma, the wild and irregular acts of +frenzy by which they expressed their religious fervour when under the +influence of the subtle drink, were adjuncts to the simple purity of the +bloodless sacrifice which disgusted the king, and he hesitated long as +to some reform in these matters. The oldest Mazdayashnians declared that +the drinking of Haoma was an act, at once pleasing to God and necessary +to stimulate the zeal of the priests in the long and monotonous +chanting, which would otherwise soon sink to a mere perfunctory +performance of a wearisome task. The very repetition which the hymns +contained seemed to prove that they were not intended to be recited by +men not under some extraordinary influence. Only the wild madness of the +Haoma drinker could sustain such an endless series of repeated prayers +with fitting devotion and energy. +</p> +<p> +All this the king heard and was not satisfied. He attended the +ceremonies with becoming regularity and sat through the performance of +the rites with exemplary patience. But he was disgusted, and he desired +a reform. Then he remembered how Zoroaster himself was a good +Mazdayashnian, and how he had occupied himself with religious studies +from his youth up, and how he had enjoyed the advantage of being the +companion of Daniel, the Hebrew governor, whose grand simplicity of +faith had descended, to some degree, upon his pupil. The Hebrews, Darius +knew, were a sober people of the strongest religious convictions, and he +had heard that, although eating formed, in some way, a part of their +ceremonies, there was no intoxication connected with their worship. +Zoroaster, he thought, would be able to give him advice upon this point, +which would be good. In sending for the man he would fulfil the double +purpose of seeming to grant the queen's request, and at the same time, +of providing himself with a sage counsellor in his difficulties. With +his usual impetuosity, he at once fulfilled his purpose, assuring +himself that Zoroaster must have forgotten Nehushta by this time, and +that he, the king, was strong enough to prevent trouble if he had not. +</p> +<p> +But many days passed, and though the proclamation was sent to all parts +of the kingdom, nothing was heard of Zoroaster. His retreat was a sure +one and there was no possibility of his being found. +</p> +<p> +Atossa, who in her heart longed for Zoroaster's return, both because by +his means she hoped to bring trouble upon Nehushta, and because she +still felt something akin to love for him, began to fear that he might +be dead, or might have wandered out of the kingdom; but Nehushta herself +knew not whether to hope that he would return, or to rejoice that she +was to escape the ordeal of meeting him. She would have given anything +to see him for a moment, to decide, as it were, whether she wished to +see him, or not. She was deeply disturbed by the anxiety she felt and +longed to know definitely what she was to expect. +</p> +<p> +She began to hate Stakhar with its splendid gardens and gorgeous +colonnades, with its soft southern air that blew across the valley of +roses all day long, wafting up a wondrous perfume to the south windows. +She hated the indolent pomp in which she lived and the idle luxury of +her days. Something in her hot-blooded Hebrew nature craved for the +blazing sun and the sand-wastes of Syria, for the breath of the desert +and for the burning heat of the wilderness. She had scarcely ever seen +these things, for she had sojourned during the one-and-twenty years of +her life, in the most magnificent palaces of the kingdom, and amid the +fairest gardens the hand of man could plant. But the love of the sun and +of the sand was bred in the blood. She began to hate the soft cushions +and the delicate silks and the endless flowers scenting the heavy air. +</p> +<p> +Stakhar<a href="#note-8" name="noteref-8"><small>8</small></a> itself was a mighty fortress, in the valley of the Araxes, +rising dark and forbidding from the banks of the little river, crowned +with towers and turrets and massive battlements, that overlooked the +fertile extent of gardens, as a stern schoolmaster frowning over a crowd +of fair young children. But Darius had chosen the site of his palace at +some distance from the stronghold; where the river bent suddenly round a +spur of the mountain, and watered a wider extent of land. The spur of +the hill ran down, by an easy gradation, into the valley; and beyond it +the hills separated into the wide plain of Merodasht that stretched +southward many farsangs to the southern pass. Upon this promontory the +king had caused to be built a huge platform which was ascended by the +broadest flight of steps in the whole world, so easy of gradation that a +man might easily have ridden up and then down again without danger to +his horse. Upon the platform was raised the palace, a mighty structure +resting on the vast columned porticoes and halls, built entirely of +polished black marble, that contrasted strangely with the green slopes +of the hills above and with the bright colours of the rose-gardens. +Endless buildings rose behind the palace, and stretched far down towards +the river below it. Most prominent of those above was the great temple +of Auramazda, where the ceremonies were performed which gave Darius so +much anxiety. It was a massive, square building, lower than the palace, +consisting of stone walls surrounded by a deep portico of polished +columns. It was not visible from the great staircase, being placed +immediately behind the palace and hidden by it. +</p> +<p> +The walls and the cornices and the capitals of the pillars were richly +sculptured with sacrificial processions, and long trains of soldiers and +captives, with great inscriptions of wedge-shaped letters, and with +animals of all sorts. The work was executed by Egyptian captives; and so +carefully was the hard black marble carved and polished, that a man +could see his face in the even surfaces, and they sent back the light +like dark mirrors. +</p> +<p> +The valley above Stakhar was grand in its great outlines of crags and +sharp, dark peaks, and the beetling fortress upon its rocky base, far up +the gorge, seemed only a jutting fragment of the great mountain, thrown +off and separated from the main chain by an earthquake, or some vast +accident of nature. But from the palace itself the contrast of the views +was great. On one side, the rugged hills, crag-crowned and bristling +black against the north-western sky; on the other, the great bed of +rose-gardens and orangeries and cultivated enclosures filled the plain, +till in the dim distance rose the level line of the soft blue southern +hills, blending mistily in the lazy light of a far-off warmth. It seemed +as though on one side of the palace were winter, and on the other +summer; on the one side cold, and on the other heat; on the one side +rough strength, and on the other gentle rest. +</p> +<p> +But Nehushta gazed northward and was weary of the cold, and southward, +and she wearied of the heat. There was nothing—nothing in it all that +was worth one moment of the old sweet moonlit evenings among the myrtles +at Ecbatana. When she thought, there was nothing of all her royal state +and luxury that she would not readily give to have had Zoroaster remain +faithful to her. She had put him away from her heart, driven him out +utterly, as she believed; but now that he was spoken of again, she knew +not whether she loved him a little in spite of all his unfaithfulness, +or whether it was only the memory of the love she had felt before which +stirred in her breast, and made her unconsciously speak his name when +she was alone. +</p> +<p> +She looked back over the three years that were passed, and she knew that +she had done her duty by the king. She knew also that she had done it +willingly, and that there had been many moments when she said to herself +that she loved Darius dearly. Indeed, it was not hard to find a reason +for loving him, for he was brave and honest and noble in all his +thoughts and ways; and whatever he had been able to do to show his love +for Nehushta, he had done. It was not the least of the things that had +made her life pass so easily, that she felt daily how she was loved +before her rival, and how, in her inmost heart, Atossa chafed at seeing +Darius forsake her society for that of the Hebrew princess. If the king +had wearied of her, Nehushta would very likely have escaped from the +palace, and gone out to face any misfortunes the world might hold for +her, rather than remain to bear the scoffing of the fair smiling woman +she so hated. Or, she would have stolen in by night to where Atossa +slept, and the wicked-looking Indian knife she wore, would have gone +down, swift and sure, to the very haft, into the queen's heart. She +would not have borne tamely any slight upon her beauty or her claims. +But, as it was, she reigned supreme. The king was just, and showed no +difference in the state and attendance of the two queens, but it was to +Nehushta he turned, when he drank deep at the banquet and pledged the +loving cup. It was to Nehushta that he went when the cares of state were +heavy and he needed counsel; and it was upon her lap he laid his weary +head, when he had ridden far and fast for many days, returning from some +hard-fought field. +</p> +<p> +But the queens hated each other with a fierce hatred, and when Darius +was absent, their divisions broke out sometimes into something like open +strife. Their guards buffeted each other in the courts, and their +slave-women tore out each other's hair upon the stairways. Then, when +the king returned, there reigned an armed peace for a time, which none +dared break. But rumours of the disturbances that had taken place often +reached the royal ears, and Darius was angry and swore great oaths, but +could do nothing; being no wiser than many great men who have had to +choose between the caprices of two women who hated each other. +</p> +<p> +Now the rumour went abroad that Zoroaster would return to the court; and +for a space, the two queens kept aloof, for both knew that if he came +back, some mortal conflict would of necessity arise between them; and +each watched the other, and was cautious. +</p> +<p> +The days passed by, but no one answered the proclamation. No one had +seen or heard of Zoroaster, since the night when he left the palace at +Shushan. He had taken nothing with him, and had left no trace behind to +guide the search. Many said he had left the kingdom; some said he was +dead in the wilderness. But Nehushta sighed and took little rest, for do +what she would, she had hoped to see him once more. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0026" id="h2HCH0026"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER XV. +</h2> +<p> +The interior of the temple was lighted with innumerable lamps, suspended +from the ceiling, of bronze and of the simplest workmanship, like +everything which pertained to the worship of Auramazda. In the midst, +upon a small altar of black stone, stood a bronze brazier, shaped like a +goblet, wherein a small fire of wood burned quietly, sending up little +wreaths of smoke, which spread over the flat ceiling and hung like a +mist about the lamps; before the altar lay a supply of fuel—fine, +evenly-cut sticks of white pine-wood, piled in regular order in a +symmetrical heap. At one extremity of the oblong hall stood a huge +mortar of black marble, having a heavy wooden pestle, and standing upon +a circular base, in which was cut a channel all around, with an opening +in the front from which the Haoma juice poured out abundantly when the +fresh milkweed was moistened and pounded together in the mortar. A +square receptacle of marble received the fluid, which remained until it +had fermented during several days, and had acquired the intoxicating +strength for which it was prized, and to which it owed its sacred +character. By the side of this vessel, upon a low marble table, lay a +huge wooden ladle; and two golden cups, short and wide, but made smaller +in the middle like a sand-glass, stood there also. +</p> +<p> +At the opposite end of the temple, before a marble screen which shielded +the doorway, was placed a great carved chair of ebony and gold and +silver, raised upon a step above the level of the floor. +</p> +<p> +It was already dark when the king entered the temple, dressed in his +robes of state, with his sword by his side, his long sceptre tipped with +the royal sphere in his right hand, and the many-pointed crown upon his +head. His heavy black beard had grown longer in the three years that had +passed, and flowed down over his vest of purple and white half-way to +his belt. His face was stern, and the deep lines of his strong features +had grown more massive in outline. With the pride of every successive +triumph had come also something more of repose and conscious power. His +step was slower, and his broad brown hand grasped the golden sceptre +with less of nervous energy and more unrelenting force. But his brows +were bent, and his expression, as he took his seat before the screen, +over against the altar of the fire, was that of a man who was prepared +to be discontented and cared little to conceal what he felt. +</p> +<p> +After him came the chief priest, completely robed in white, with a +thick, white linen sash rolled for a girdle about his waist, the fringed +ends hanging stiffly down upon one side. Upon his head he wore a great +mitre, also of white linen, and a broad fringed stole of the same +material fell in two wide bands from each side of his neck to his feet. +His beard was black and glossy, fine as silk, and reached almost to his +waist. He came and stood with his back to the king and his face to the +altar, ten paces from the second fire. +</p> +<p> +Then, from behind the screen and from each side of it, the other priests +filed out, two and two, all clad in white like the chief priest, save +that their mitres were smaller and they wore no stole. They came out and +ranged themselves around the walls of the temple, threescore and nine +men, of holy order, trained in the ancient chanting of the Mazdayashnian +hymns; men in the prime and strength of life, black-bearded and +broad-shouldered, whose massive brows and straight features indicated +noble powers of mind and body. +</p> +<p> +The two who stood nearest to the chief priest came forward, and taking +from his hands a square linen cloth he bore, bound it across his mouth +and tied it behind his neck in a firm knot by means of strings. Then, +one of them put into his left hand a fan of eagles' feathers, and the +other gave him a pair of wrought-iron pincers. Then they left him to +advance alone to the altar. +</p> +<p> +He went forward till he was close to the bronze brazier, and stooping +down, he took from the heap of fuel a clean white stick, with the +pincers, which he carefully laid upon the fire. Then with his left hand +he gently fanned the flames, and his mouth being protected by the linen +cloth in such a manner that his breath could not defile the sacred fire, +he began slowly and in a voice muffled by the bandage he wore, to recite +the beginning of the sacrificial hymn: +</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p> +"Best of all goods is purity.</p> +<p>Glory, glory to him</p> +<p>Who is best and purest in purity.</p> +<p>For he who ruleth from purity, he abideth according + to the will of the Lord.</p> +<p>The All-Wise giveth gifts for the works which man + doeth in the world for the Lord.</p> +<p>He who protecteth the poor giveth the kingdom to Ahura."<a href="#note-9" name="noteref-9"><small>9</small></a> +</p> +</div></div> + +<p> +Then all the priests repeated the verses together in chorus, their +voices sounding in a unison which, though not precisely song, seemed +tending to a musical cadence as the tones rose and fell again upon the +last two syllables of each verse. And then again, the chief priest and +the other priests together repeated the hymn, many times, in louder and +louder chorus, with more and more force of intonation; till the chief +priest stepped back from the fire, and delivering up the pincers and the +fan, allowed the two assistants to unbind the cloth from his mouth. +</p> +<p> +He walked slowly up the temple on the left side, and keeping his right +hand toward the altar, he walked seven times around it, repeating a hymn +alone in low tones; till, after the seventh time, he went up to the +farther end of the hall, and stood before the black marble trough in +which the fermented Haoma stood ready, having been prepared with due +ceremony three days before. +</p> +<p> +Then, in a loud voice, he intoned the chant in praise of Zaothra and +Bareshma, holding high in his right hand the bundle of sacred stalks; +which he, from time to time, moistened a little in the water from a +vessel which stood ready, and sprinkled to the four corners of the +temple. The priests again took up the strain in chorus, repeating over +and over the burden of the song. +</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Zaothra, I praise thee and desire thee with praise!</p> +<p>Bareshma, I praise thee and desire thee with praise!</p> +<p>Zaothra, with Bareshma united, I praise you + and desire you with praise!</p> +<p>Bareshma, with Zaothra united, I praise you and + desire you with praise!"</p> +</div></div> +<p> +Suddenly the chief priest laid down the Bareshma, and seizing one of the +golden goblets, filled it, with the wooden ladle, from the dark +receptacle of the juice. As he poured it high, the yellow light of the +lamp caught the transparent greenish fluid, and made it sparkle +strangely. He put the goblet to his lips and drank. +</p> +<p> +The king, sitting in silence upon his carved throne at the other +extremity of the temple, bent his brows in a dark frown as he saw the +hated ceremony begin. He knew how it ended, and grand as the words were +which they would recite when the subtle fluid had fired their veins, he +loathed to see the intoxication that got possession of them; and the +frenzy with which they howled the sacred strains seemed to him to +destroy the solemnity and dignity of a hymn, in which all that was +solemn and high would otherwise have seemed to be united. +</p> +<p> +The chief priest drank and then, filling both goblets, gave them to the +priests at his right and left hand; who, after drinking, passed each +other, and made way for those next them; and so the whole number filed +past the Haoma vessel and drank their share till they all had changed +places, and those who had stood upon the right, now stood upon the left; +and those who were first upon the left hand, were now upon the right. +And when all had drunk, the chief priest intoned the great hymn of +praise, and all the chorus united with him in high, clear tones: +</p> +<div class="quote"> +<p>"The All-Wise Creator, Ahura Mazda, the greatest, the best, the + most fair in glory and majesty," +</p> +<p> "The mightiest in his strength, the wisest in his wisdom, the + holiest in his holiness, whose power is of all power the + fairest," +</p> +<p> "Who is very wise, who maketh all things to rejoice afar," +</p> +<p> "Who hath made us and formed us, who hath saved us, the holiest + among the heavenly ones," +</p> +<p>"Him I adore and praise, unto him I declare the sacrifice, him I + invite," +</p> +<p>"I declare the sacrifice to the Protector, the Peace-maker, who + maketh the fire to burn, who preserveth the wealth of the earth; + the whole earth and the wisdom thereof, the seas and the waters, + the land and all growing things, I invite to the sacrifice." +</p> +<p> "Cattle and living things, and the fire of Ahura, the sure + helper, the lord of the archangels," +</p> +<p> "The nights and the days, I call upon, the purity of all created + light," +</p> +<p>"The Lord of light, the sun in his glory, glorious in name and + worthy of honour," +</p> +<p>"Who giveth food unto men, and multiplieth the cattle upon the + earth, who causeth mankind to increase, I call upon and invite to + the sacrifice," +</p> +<p>"Water, and the centre of all waters, given and made of God, that + refresheth all things and maketh all things to grow, I call upon + and invite." +</p> +<p>"The souls of the righteous and pure, the whole multitude of + living men and women upon earth, I call upon and invite." +</p> +<p>"I call upon the triumph and the mighty strength of God," +</p> +<p> + "I call upon the archangels who keep the world, upon the months, + upon the pure, new moon, the lordship of purity in heaven," +</p> +<p> "I call upon the feasts of the years and the seasons, upon the + years and the months and days," +</p> +<p>"I call upon the star Ahura,<a href="#note-10" name="noteref-10"><small>10</small></a> and upon the one great and + eternal in purity, and upon all the stars, the works of God," +</p> +<p>"Upon the star Tistrya I call, the far-shining, the + magnificent—upon the fair moon that shineth upon the young + cattle, upon the glorious sun swift in the race of his flight, + the eye of the Lord." +</p> +<p>"I call upon the spirits and souls of the righteous, on the + fire-begotten of the Lord, and upon all fires." +</p> +<p>"Mountains and all hills, lightened and full of light." +</p> +<p>"Majesty of kingly honour, the Majesty of the king which dieth + not, is not diminished," +</p> +<p>"All wisdom and blessings and true promises, all men who are full + of strength and power and might," +</p> +<p>"All places and lands and countries beneath the heavens, and + above the heavens, light without beginning, existing, and without + end," +</p> +<p> "All creatures pure and good, male and female upon the earth." +</p> +<p>"All you I invite and call upon to the sacrifice." +</p> +<p>"Havani, pure, lord of purity!" +</p> +<p> "Shavanghi, pure, lord of purity!" +</p> +<p>"Rapithwina, pure, lord of purity!" +</p> +<p>"Uzayêirina, pure, lord of purity!" +</p> +<p>"Aiwishruthrema, Aibigaya, pure, lord of purity!" +</p> +<p>"Ushahina, pure, lord of purity!" +</p> +<p> "To Havani, Shavanghi and Vishya, the pure, the lords of purity + most glorious, be honour and prayer and fulfilment and praise." +</p> +<p> "To the days, and the nights, and the hours, the months and the + years and the feasts of years, be honour and prayer and + fulfilment and praise before Auramazda, the All-Wise, for ever + and ever and ever."<a href="#note-11" name="noteref-11"><small>11</small></a> +</p> +</div> +<p> +As the white-robed priests shouted the verses of the long hymn, their +eyes flashed and their bodies moved rhythmically from side to side with +an ever-increasing motion. From time to time, the golden goblets were +filled with the sweet Haoma juice, and passed rapidly from hand to hand +along the line, and as each priest drank more freely of the subtle +fermented liquor, his eyes gained a new and more unnatural light, and +his gestures grew more wild, while the whole body of voices rose +together from an even and dignified chant to an indistinguishable +discord of deafening yells. +</p> +<p> +Ever more and more they drank, repeating the verses of the hymn without +order or sequence. One man repeated a verse over and over again in +ear-piercing shrieks, swaying his body to and fro till he dropped +forward upon the ground, foaming at the mouth, his features distorted +with a wild convulsion, and his limbs as rigid as stone. Here, a band of +five locked their arms together, and, back to back, whirled madly round, +screaming out the names of the archangels, in an indiscriminate rage of +sound and broken syllables. One, less enduring than the rest, relaxed +his hold upon his fellow's arm and fell headlong on the pavement, while +the remaining four were carried on by the force of their whirling, and +fell together against others who steadied themselves against the wall, +swaying their heads and arms from side to side. Overthrown by the fall +of their companions, these in their turn fell forward upon the others, +and in a few moments, the whole company of priests lay grovelling one +upon the other, foaming at the mouth, but still howling out detached +verses of their hymn—a mass of raging, convulsed humanity, tearing each +other in the frenzy of drunkenness, rolling over and over each otter in +the twisted contortions of frenzied maniacs. The air grew thick with the +smoke of the fire and of the lamps, and the unceasing, indescribable din +of the hoarsely howling voices seemed to make the very roof rock upon +the pillars that held it up, as though the stones themselves must go mad +and shriek in the universal fury of sound. The golden goblets rolled +upon the marble pavement, and the sweet green juice ran in slimy streams +upon the floor. The high priest himself, utterly intoxicated and +screaming with a voice like a wild beast in agony, fell backwards across +the marble vase at the foot of the mortar and his hand and arm plashed +into the dregs of the fermented Haoma. +</p> +<p> +Never had the drunken frenzy reached such a point before. The king had +sat motionless and frowning upon his seat until he saw the high priest +fall headlong into the receptacle of the sacred Haoma. Then, with a +groan, he laid his two hands upon the arms of his carved chair, and +rose to his feet in utter disgust and horror. But, as he turned to go, +he stood still and shook from head to foot, for he saw beside him a +figure that might, at such a moment, have startled the boldest. +</p> +<p> +A tall man of unearthly looks stood there, whose features he seemed to +know, but could not recognise. His face was thin to emaciation, and his +long, white hair fell in tangled masses, with his huge beard, upon his +half-naked shoulders and bare chest. The torn, dark mantle he wore was +falling to the ground as he faced the drunken herd of howling priests +and lifted up his thin blanched arms and bony fingers, as though in +protest at the hideous sight. His deep-set eyes were blue and fiery, +flashing with a strange light. He seemed not to see Darius, but he gazed +in deepest horror upon the writhing mass of bestial humanity below. +</p> +<p> +Suddenly his arms shook, and standing there, against the dark marble +screen, like the very figure and incarnation of fate, he spoke in a +voice that, without effort, seemed to dominate the hideous din of +yelling voices—a voice that was calm and clear as a crystal bell, but +having that in it which carried instantly the words he spoke to the ears +of the very most besotted wretch that lay among the heaps upon the +floor—a voice that struck like a sharp steel blade upon iron. +</p> +<p> +"I am the prophet of the Lord. Hold ye your peace." +</p> +<p> +As a wild beast's howling suddenly diminishes and grows less and dies +away to silence, when the hunter's arrow has sped close to the heart +with a mortal wound, so in one moment, the incoherent din sank down, and +the dead stillness that followed was dreadful by contrast. Darius stood +with his hand upon the arm of his chair, not understanding the words of +the fearful stranger; still less the mastering power those words had +upon the drunken priests. But his courage did not desert him, and he +feared not to speak. +</p> +<p> +"How sayest thou that thou art a prophet? Who art thou?" he asked. +</p> +<p> +"Thou knowest me and hast sent for me," answered the white-haired man, +in his calm tones; but his fiery eyes rested on the king's, and Darius +almost quailed under the glance. "I am Zoroaster; I am come to proclaim +the truth to thee and to these miserable men, thy priests." +</p> +<p> +The fear they felt had restored the frenzied men to their senses. One by +one, they rose and crept back towards the high priest himself, who had +struggled to his feet, and stood upon the basement of the mortar above +all the rest. +</p> +<p> +Then Darius looked, and he knew that it was Zoroaster, but he knew not +the strange look upon his face, and the light in his eyes was not as the +light of other days. He turned to the priests. +</p> +<p> +"Ye are unworthy priests," he cried angrily, "for ye are drunk with +your own sacrifice, and ye defile God's temple with unseemly cries. +Behold this man—can ye tell me whether he be indeed a prophet?" +Darius, whose anger was fast taking the place of the awe he had felt +when he first saw Zoroaster beside him, strode a step forward, with his +hand upon his sword-hilt, as though he would take summary vengeance +upon the desecrators of the temple. +</p> +<p> +"He is surely a liar!" cried the high priest from his position beyond +the altar, as though hurling defiance at Zoroaster through the flames. +</p> +<p> +"He is surely a liar!" repeated all the priests together, following +their head. +</p> +<p> +"He is a Magian, a worshipper of idols, a liar and the father of lies! +Down with him! Slay him before the altar; destroy the unbeliever that +entereth the temple of Ahura Mazda!" +</p> +<p> +"Down with the Magian! Down with the idolater!" cried the priests, and +moved forward in a body toward the thin white-haired man who stood +facing them, serene and high. +</p> +<p> +Darius drew his short sword and rushed before Zoroaster to strike down +the foremost of the priests. But Zoroaster seized the keen blade in the +air as though it had been a reed, and wrenched it from the king's strong +grip, and broke it in pieces like glass, and cast the fragments at his +feet. Darius staggered back in amazement, and the herd of angry men, in +whose eyes still blazed the drunkenness of the Haoma, huddled together +for a moment like frightened sheep. +</p> +<p> +"I have no need of swords," said Zoroaster, in his cold, clear voice. +</p> +<p> +Then the high priest cried aloud, and ran forward and seized a brand +from the sacred fire. +</p> +<p> +"It is Angramainyus, the Power of Evil," he yelled fiercely. "He is come +to fight with Auramazda in his temple! But the fire of the Lord shall +destroy him!" +</p> +<p> +As the priest rushed upon him, with the blazing brand raised high to +strike, Zoroaster faced him and fixed his eyes upon the angry man. The +priest suddenly stood still, his hand in mid-air, and the stout piece of +burning wood fell to the floor, and lay smouldering and smoking upon the +pavement. +</p> +<p> +"Tempt not the All-Wise Lord, lest he destroy thee," said Zoroaster +solemnly. "Harken, ye priests, and obey the word from heaven. Take the +brazier from your altar, and scatter the embers upon the floor, for the +fire is defiled." +</p> +<p> +Silent and trembling, the priests obeyed, for they were afraid; but the +high priest stood looking in amazement upon Zoroaster. +</p> +<p> +When the brazier was gone, and the coals were scattered out upon the +pavement, and the priests had trodden out the fire with their leathern +shoes, Zoroaster went to the black marble altar, and faced the east, +looking towards the stone mortar at the end. He laid his long, thin +hands upon the flat surface and drew them slowly together; and, in the +sight of the priests, a light sprang up softly between his fingers; +gradually at first, then higher and higher, till it stood like a blazing +spear-head in the midst, emitting a calm, white effulgence that darkened +the lamps overhead, and shed an unearthly whiteness on Zoroaster's white +face. +</p> +<p> +He stepped back from the altar, and a low murmur of astonishment rose +from all the crowd of white-robed men. Darius stood in silent wonder, +gazing alternately upon the figure of Zoroaster, and upon the fragments +of his good sword that lay scattered upon the pavement. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster looked round upon the faces of the priests with blazing eyes: +</p> +<p> +"If ye be true priests of Ahura Mazda, raise with me the hymn of +praise," he said. "Let it be heard in the heavens, and let it echo +beyond the spheres!" +</p> +<p> +Then his voice rose calm and clear above all the others, and lifting up +his eyes and hands, he intoned the solemn chant: +</p> +<div class="quote"> +<p>"He, who by truth ruleth in purity, abideth according to the + will of the Lord." +</p> +<p> + "The Lord All-Wise is the giver of gifts to men for the works + which men in the world shall do in the truth of the Lord." +</p> +<p> + "He who protecteth the poor giveth the kingdom to God." +</p> +<p> + "Best of all earthly goods is truth." +</p> +<p> + "Glory, glory on high for ever to him who is best in heaven, and + truest in truth on earth!" +</p> +</div> +<p> +Zoroaster's grand voice rang out, and all the priests sang melodiously +together; and upon the place which had been the scene of such frenzy and +fury and drunkenness, there descended a peace as holy and calm as the +quiet flame that burned without fuel upon the black stone in the midst. +One by one, the priests came and fell at Zoroaster's feet; the chief +priest first of all. +</p> +<p> +"Thou art the prophet and priest of the Lord," each said, one after +another. "I acknowledge thee to be the chief priest, and I swear to be a +true priest with thee." +</p> +<p> +And last of all, the king, who had stood silently by, came and would +have kneeled before Zoroaster. But Zoroaster took his hands, and they +embraced. +</p> +<p> +"Forgive me the wrong I did thee, Zoroaster," said Darius. "For thou art +a holy man, and I will honour thee as thou wast not honoured before." +</p> +<p> +"Thou hast done me no wrong," answered Zoroaster. "Thou hast sent for +me, and I am come to be thy faithful friend, as I swore to thee, long +ago, in the tent at Shushan." +</p> +<p> +Then they took Zoroaster's torn clothes, and they clad him in white +robes and set a spotless mitre upon his head; and the king, for the +second time, took his golden chain from his own neck, and put it about +Zoroaster's shoulders. And they led him away into the palace. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0027" id="h2HCH0027"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER XVI. +</h2> +<p> +When it was known that Zoroaster had returned, there was some stir in +the palace. The news that he was made high priest soon reached +Nehushta's ears, and she wondered what change had come over him in three +years that could have made a priest of such a man. She remembered him +young and marvellously fair, a warrior at all points, though at the same +time an accomplished courtier. She could not imagine him invested with +the robes of priesthood, leading a chorus of singers in the chanting of +the hymns. +</p> +<p> +But it was not only as a chief priest that Darius had reinstalled +Zoroaster in the palace. The king needed a counsellor and adviser, and +the learned priest seemed a person fitted for the post. +</p> +<p> +On the following day, Nehushta, as was her wont, went out, in the cool +of the evening, to walk in the gardens, attended by her maidens, her +fan-girls and the slaves who bore her carpet and cushions in case she +wished to sit down. She walked languidly, as though she hardly cared to +lift her delicate slippered feet from the smooth walk, and often she +paused and plucked a flower, and all her train of serving-women stopped +behind her, not daring even to whisper among themselves, for the young +queen was in no gentle humour of mind. Her face was pale and her eyes +were heavy, for she knew the man she had so loved in other days was +near, and though he had so bitterly deceived her, the sound of his sweet +promises was yet in her ears; and sometimes, in her dreams, she felt the +gentle breath of his mouth upon her sleeping lips, and woke with a start +of joy that was but the forerunner of a new sadness. +</p> +<p> +Slowly she paced the walks of the rose-gardens, thinking of another +place in the far north, where there had been roses, and myrtles too, +upon a terrace where the moonlight was very fair. +</p> +<p> +As she turned a sharp corner where the overhanging shrubbery darkened +the declining light to a dusky shade, she found herself face to face +with the man of whom she was thinking. His tall thin figure, clad in +spotless white robes, seemed like a shadow in the gloom, and his snowy +beard and hair made a strange halo about his young face, that was so +thin and worn. He walked slowly, his hands folded together, and his eyes +upon the ground; while a few paces behind him two young priests followed +with measured steps, conversing in low tones, as though fearing to +disturb the meditations of their master. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta started a little and would have passed on, although she +recognised the face of him she had loved. But Zoroaster lifted his eyes, +and looked on her with so strange an expression that she stopped short +in the way. The deep, calm light in his eyes awed her, and there was +something in his majestic presence that seemed of another world. +</p> +<p> +"Hail, Nehushta!" said the high priest quietly. +</p> +<p> +But, at the sound of his voice, the spell was broken. The Hebrew woman +lifted her head proudly, and her black eyes flashed again. +</p> +<p> +"Greet me not," she answered, "for the greeting of a liar is like the +sting of the serpent that striketh unawares in the dark." +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster's face never changed, only his luminous eyes gazed on hers +intently, and she paused again, as though riveted to the spot. +</p> +<p> +"I lie not, nor have lied to thee ever," he answered calmly. "Go thou +hence, ask her whom thou hatest, whether I have deceived thee. +Farewell." +</p> +<p> +He turned his gaze from her and passed slowly on, looking down to the +ground, his hands folded before him. He left her standing in the way, +greatly troubled and not understanding his saying. +</p> +<p> +Had she not seen with her eyes how he held Atossa in his arms on that +evil morning in Shushan? Had she not seen how, when he was sent away, he +had written a letter to Atossa and no word to herself? Could these +things which she had seen and known, be untrue? The thought was +horrible—that her whole life had perhaps been wrecked and ruined by a +mistake. And yet there was not any mistake, she repeated to herself. She +had seen; one must believe what one sees. She had heard Atossa's +passionate words of love, and had seen Zoroaster's arms go round her +drooping body; one must believe what one sees and hears and knows! +</p> +<p> +But there was a ringing truth in his voice just now when he said: "I lie +not, nor have lied to thee ever." A lie—no, not spoken, but done; and +the lie of an action is greater than the lie of a word. And yet, his +voice sounded true just now in the dusk, and there was something in it, +something like the ring of a far regret. "Ask her whom thou hatest," he +had said. That was Atossa. There was no other woman whom she hated—no +man save him. +</p> +<p> +She had many times asked herself whether or no she loved the king. She +felt something for him that she had not felt for Zoroaster. The +passionate enthusiasm of the strong, dark warrior sometimes carried her +away and raised her with it; she loved his manliness, his honesty, his +unchanging constancy of purpose. And yet Zoroaster had had all these, +and more also, though they had shown themselves in a different way. She +looked back and remembered how calm he had always been, how utterly +superior in his wisdom. He seemed scarcely mortal, until he had one day +fallen—and fallen so desperately low in her view, that she loathed the +memory of that feigned calmness and wisdom and parity. For it must have +been feigned. How else could he have put his arms about Atossa, and +taken her head upon his breast, while she sobbed out words of love? +</p> +<p> +But if he loved Atossa, she loved him as well. She said so, cried it +aloud upon the terrace where any one might have heard it. Why then had +he left the court, and hidden himself so long in the wilderness? Why, +before going out on his wanderings, had he disguised himself, and gone +and stood where the procession passed, and hissed out a bitter insult as +Nehushta went by? For her sake he had abandoned his brilliant life these +three years, to dwell in the desert, to grow so thin and miserable of +aspect that he looked like an old man. And his hair and beard were +white—she had heard that a man might turn white from sorrow in a day. +Was it grief that had so changed him? Grief to see her wedded to the +king before his eyes? His voice rang so true: "Ask her whom thou +hatest," he had said. In truth she would ask. It was all too +inexplicable, and the sudden thought that she had perhaps wronged him +three long years ago—even the possibility of the thought that seemed so +little possible to her yesterday—wrought strangely in her breast, and +terrified her. She would ask Atossa to her face whether Zoroaster had +loved her. She would tell how she had seen them together upon the +balcony, and heard Atossa's quick, hot words. She would threaten to tell +the king; and if the elder queen refused to answer truth, she would +indeed tell him and put her rival to a bitter shame. +</p> +<p> +She walked more quickly upon the smooth path, and her hands wrung each +other, and once she felt the haft of that wicked Indian knife she ever +wore. When she turned back and went up the broad steps of the palace, +the moon was rising above the far misty hills to eastward, and there +were lights beneath the columned portico. She paused and looked back +across the peaceful valley, and far down below, a solitary nightingale +called out a few melancholy notes, and then burst forth into glorious +song. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta turned again to go in, and there were tears in her dark eyes, +that had not stood there for many a long day. But she clasped her hands +together, and went forward between the crouching slaves, straight to +Atossa's apartment. It was not usual for any one to gain access to the +eider queen's inner chambers without first obtaining permission, from +Atossa herself, and Nehushta had never been there. They met rarely in +public, and spoke little, though each maintained the appearances of +courtesy; but Atossa's smile was the sweeter of the two. In private they +never saw each other; and the queen's slaves would perhaps have tried +to prevent Nehushta from entering, but her black eyes flashed upon them +in such dire wrath as she saw them before her, that they crouched away +and let her pass on unmolested. +</p> +<p> +Atossa sat, as ever at that hour in her toilet-chamber, surrounded by +her tirewomen. The room was larger than the one at Shushan, for she had +caused it to be built after her own plans; but her table was the same as +ever, and upon it stood the broad silver mirror, which she never allowed +to be left behind when she travelled. +</p> +<p> +Her magnificent beauty had neither changed nor faded in three years. +Such strength as hers was not to be broken, nor worn out, by the mere +petty annoyances of palace life. She could sustain the constant little +warfare she waged against the king, without even so much as looking +careworn and pale for a moment, though the king himself often looked +dark and weary, and his eyes were heavy with sleeplessness for the +trouble she gave him. Yet he could new determine to rid himself of her, +even when he began to understand the profound badness of her character. +She exercised a certain fascination over him, as a man grows fond of +some beautiful, wicked beast he has half-tamed, though it turn and show +its teeth at him sometimes, and be altogether more of a care than a +pastime. She was so fair and evil that he could not hurt her; it would +have seemed a crime to destroy anything so wondrously made. Moreover, +she could amuse him and make many an hour pass pleasantly when she was +so disposed. +</p> +<p> +She was fully attired for the banquet that was to take place late in +the evening, but her women were still about her, and she looked at +herself critically in the mirror, and would have changed the pinning of +her tiara, so that her fair hair should fall forward upon one side, +instead of backwards over her shoulder. She tried the effect of the +change upon her face, and peered into the mirror beneath the bright +light of the tall lamps; when, on a sudden, as she looked, she met the +reflection of two angry dark eyes, and she knew that Nehushta was behind +her. +</p> +<p> +She rose to her feet, turning quickly, and the sweep of her long robe +overthrew the light carved chair upon the marble floor. She faced +Nehushta with a cold smile that betrayed surprise at being thus +interrupted in her toilet rather than any dread of the interview. Her +delicate eyebrows arched themselves in something of scorn, but her voice +came low and sweet as ever. +</p> +<p> +"It is rarely indeed that the queen Nehushta deigns to visit her +servant," she said. "Had she sent warning of her coming, she would have +been more fittingly received." +</p> +<p> +Nehushta stood still before her. She hated that cool, still voice that +choked her like a tightening bow-string about her neck. +</p> +<p> +"We have small need of court formalities," answered the Hebrew woman, +shortly. "I desire to speak with you alone upon a matter of importance." +</p> +<p> +"I am alone," returned Atossa, seating herself upon the carved chair, +which one of the slaves had instantly set up again, and motioning to +Nehushta to be seated. But Nehushta glanced at the serving-women and +remained standing. +</p> +<p> +"You are not alone," she said briefly. +</p> +<p> +"They are not women—they are slaves," answered Atossa, with a smile. +</p> +<p> +"Will you not send them away?" +</p> +<p> +"Why should I?" +</p> +<p> +"You need not—I will," returned Nehushta. "Begone, and quickly!" she +added, turning to the little group of women and slave-girls who stood +together, looking on in wonder. At Nehushta's imperious command, they +hurried through the door, and the curtains fell behind them. They knew +Nehushta's power in the palace too well to hesitate to obey her, even in +the presence of their own mistress. +</p> +<p> +"Strange ways you have!" exclaimed Atossa, in a low voice. She was +fiercely angry, but there was no change in her face. She dangled a +little chain upon her finger, and tapped the ground with her foot as she +sat. That was all. +</p> +<p> +"I am not come here to wrangle with you about your slaves. They will +obey me without wrangling. I met Zoroaster in the gardens an hour +since." +</p> +<p> +"By a previous arrangement, of course?" suggested Atossa, with a sneer. +But her clear blue eyes fixed themselves upon Nehushta with a strange +and deadly look. +</p> +<p> +"Hold your peace and listen to me," said Nehushta in a fierce, low +voice, and her slender hand stole to the haft of the knife by her side. +</p> +<p> +Atossa was a brave woman, false though she was; but she saw that the +Hebrew princess had her in her power—she saw the knife and she saw the +gleam in those black eyes. They were riveted on her face, and she grew +grave and remained silent. +</p> +<p> +"Tell me the truth," pursued Nehushta hurriedly. "Did Zoroaster love you +three years ago—when I saw you in his arms upon the terrace the morning +when he came back from Ecbatana?" +</p> +<p> +But she little knew the woman with whom she had to deal. Atossa had +found time in that brief moment to calculate her chances of safety. A +weaker woman would have lied; but the fair queen saw that the moment had +come wherein she could reap a rich harvest of vengeance upon her rival, +and she trusted to her coolness and strength to deliver her if Nehushta +actually drew the knife she wore. +</p> +<p> +"I loved him," she said slowly. "I love him yet, and I hate you more +than I love him. Do you understand?" +</p> +<p> +"Speak—go on!" cried Nehushta, half breathless with anger. +</p> +<p> +"I loved him, and I hated you. I hate you still," repeated the queen +slowly and gravely. "The letter I had from him was written to you—but +it was brought to me. Nay—be not so angry, it was very long ago. Of +course you can murder me, if you please—you have me in your power, and +you are but a cowardly Jew, like twenty of my slave-women. I fear you +not. Perhaps you would like to hear the end?" +</p> +<p> +Nehushta had come nearer and stood looking down at the beautiful woman, +her arms folded before her. Atossa never stirred as Nehushta approached, +but kept her eye steadily fixed on hers. Nehushta's arms were folded, +and the knife hung below her girdle in its loose sheath. +</p> +<p> +Atossa's white arm went suddenly out and laid hold of the haft, and the +keen blue steel flashed out of its scabbard with a sheen like dark +lightning on a summer's evening. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta started back as she saw the sharp weapon in her enemy's hand. +But Atossa laughed a low sweet laugh of triumph. +</p> +<p> +"You shall hear the end now," she said, holding the knife firmly in her +hand. "You shall not escape hearing the end now, and you shall not +murder me with your Indian poisoner here." She laughed again as she +glanced at the ugly curve of the dagger. "I was talking with Zoroaster," +she continued, "when I saw you upon the stairs, and then—oh, it was so +sweet! I cried out that he should never leave me again, and I threw my +arms about his neck—his lordly neck that you so loved!—and I fell, so +that he had to hold me up. And you saw him. Oh, it was sweet! It was the +sweetest moment of my life when I heard you groan and hurry away and +leave us! It was to hurt you that I did it—that I humbled my +queenliness before him; but I loved him, though—and he, he your lover, +whom you despised then and cast away for this black-faced king of +ours—he thrust me from him, and pushed me off, and drove me weeping to +my chamber, and he said he loved me not, nor wished my love. Ay, that +was bitter, for I was ashamed—I who never was shamed of man or woman. +But there was more sweetness in your torment than bitterness in my +shame. He never knew you were there. He screamed out to you from the +crowd in the procession his parting curse on your unfaithfulness and +went out—but he nearly killed those two strong spearmen who tried to +seize him. How strong he was then, how brave! What a noble lover for any +woman! So tall and delicate and fair with all his strength! He never +knew why you left him—he thought it was to wear the king's purple, to +thrust a bit of gold in your hair! He must have suffered—you have +suffered too—such delicious torture, I have often soothed myself to +sleep with the thought of it. It is very sweet for me to see you lying +there with my wound in your heart. It will rankle long; you cannot get +it out—you are married to the king now, and Zoroaster has turned priest +for love of you. I think even the king would hardly love you if he could +see you now—you look so pale. I will send for the Chaldean +physician—you might die. I should be sorry if you died, you could not +suffer any more then. I could not give up the pleasure of hurting +you—you have no idea how delicious it is. Oh, how I hate you!" +</p> +<p> +Atossa rose suddenly to her feet, with flashing eyes. Nehushta, in sheer +horror of such hideous cruelty, had fallen back against the door-post, +and stood grasping the curtain with one hand while the other was pressed +to her heart, as though to control the desperate agony she suffered. Her +face was paler than the dead, and her long, black hair fell forward over +her ghastly cheeks. +</p> +<p> +"Shall I tell you more?" Atossa began again. "Should you like to hear +more of the truth? I could tell you how the king——" +</p> +<p> +But as she spoke, Nehushta threw up her hands and pressed them to her +throbbing temples; and with a low wail, she turned and fled through the +doorway between the thick curtains, that parted with her weight and fell +together again when she had passed. +</p> +<p> +"She will tell the king," said Atossa aloud, when she was gone. "I care +not—but I will keep the knife," she added, laying the keen blade upon +the table, amid the little instruments of her toilet. +</p> +<p> +But Nehushta ran fast through the corridors and halls till she came to +her slaves who had waited for her at the entrance to the queen's +apartment. Then she seemed to recollect herself, and slackened her pace, +and went on to her own chambers. But, her women saw her pale face, and +whispered together as they cautiously followed her. +</p> +<p> +She was wretched beyond all words. In a moment, her doubts and her fears +had all been realised, and the stain of unfaithfulness had been washed +from the memory of her lover. But it was too late to repent her +hastiness. She had been married to Darius now for nearly three years, +and Zoroaster was a man so changed that she would hardly have recognised +him that evening, had she not known that he was in the palace. He looked +more like the aged Daniel whom he had buried at Ecbatana than like the +lordly warrior of three years ago. She wondered, as she thought of the +sound of his voice in the, garden, how she could ever have doubted him, +and the remembrance of his clear eyes was both bitter and sweet to her. +</p> +<p> +She lay upon her silken pillows and wept hot tears for him she had loved +long ago, for him and for herself—most of all for the pain she had +made him suffer, for that bitter agony that had turned his young, fair +locks to snowy white; she wept the tears for him that she could fancy he +must have shed in those long years for her. She buried her face and +sobbed aloud, so that even the black fan-girl who stood waving the long +palm-leaf over her in the dim light of the bedchamber—even the poor +black creature from the farther desert, whom her mistress did not half +believe human, felt pity for the royal sorrow she saw, and took one hand +from the fan to brush the tears from her small red eyes. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta's heart was broken, and from that day none saw her smile. In +one hour the whole misery of all possible miseries came upon her, and +bowed her to the ground, and crushed out the life and the light of her +nature. As she lay there, she longed to die, as she had never longed for +anything while she lived, and she would have had small hesitation in +killing the heart that beat with such agonising pain in her breast—saving +that one thought prevented her. She cared not for revenge +any more. What was the life of that cold, cruel thing, the queen, worth, +that by taking it, she could gain comfort? But she felt and knew that, +before she died, she must see Zoroaster once more, and tell him that she +knew all the truth—that she knew he had not deceived her, and that she +implored his forgiveness for the wrong she had done him. He would let +her rest her head upon his breast and weep out her heartful of piteous +sorrow once before she died. And then—the quiet stream of the Araxes +flowed softly, cold and clear, among the rose-gardens below the palace. +The kindly water would take her to its bosom, beneath the summer's moon, +and the nightingales she loved would sing her a gentle +good-night—good-night for ever, while the cool wave flowed over her +weary breast and aching head. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0028" id="h2HCH0028"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER XVII. +</h2> +<p> +On the next day, in the cool of the evening, Nehushta walked again in +the garden. But Zoroaster was not there. And for several days Nehushta +came at that hour, and at other hours in the day, but found him not. She +saw him indeed from time to time in public, but she had no opportunity +of speaking with him as she desired. At last, she determined to send for +him, and to see whether he would come, or not. +</p> +<p> +She went out, attended only by two slaves; the one bearing a fan and the +other a small carpet and a cushion—black women from the southern parts +of Syria, towards Egypt, who would not understand the high Persian she +would be likely to speak with Zoroaster, though her own Hebrew tongue +was intelligible to them. When she reached a quiet spot, where one of +the walks ended suddenly in a little circle among the rose-trees, far +down from the palace, she had her carpet spread, and her cushion was +placed upon it, and she wearily sat down. The fan-girl began to ply her +palm-leaf, as much to cool the heated summer air as to drive away the +swarms of tiny gnats which abounded in the garden. Nehushta rested upon +one elbow, her feet drawn together upon the carpet of dark soft colours +and waited a few minutes as though in thought. At last she seemed to +have decided, and turned to the slave who had brought her cushion, as +she stood at a little distance, motionless, her hands folded and hidden +under the thickness of the broad sash that girded her tunic at the +waist. +</p> +<p> +"Go thou," said the queen, "and seek out the high priest Zoroaster, and +bring him hither quickly." +</p> +<p> +The black woman turned and ran like a deer down the narrow path, +disappearing in a moment amongst the shrubbery. +</p> +<p> +The breeze of the swinging fan blew softly on Nehushta's pale face and +stirred the locks of heavy hair that fell from her tiara about her +shoulders. Her eyes were half closed as she leaned back, and her lips +were parted in a weary look of weakness that was new to her. Nearly an +hour passed and the sun sank low, but Nehushta hardly stirred from her +position. +</p> +<p> +It seemed very long before she heard steps upon the walk—the quick soft +step of the slave-woman running before, barefooted and fleet, and +presently the heavier tread of a man's leather shoe. The slave stopped +at the entrance to the little circle of rose-trees, and a moment later, +Zoroaster strode forward, and stood still and made a deep obeisance, a +few steps from Nehushta. +</p> +<p> +"Forgive me that I sent for thee, Zoroaster," said the queen in quiet +tones. But, as she spoke, a slight blush overspread her face, and +relieved her deadly pallor. "Forgive me—I have somewhat to say which +thou must hear." +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster remained standing before her as she spoke, and his luminous +eyes rested upon her quietly. +</p> +<p> +"I wronged thee three years ago, Zoroaster," said the queen in a low +voice, but looking up at him. "I pray thee, forgive me—I knew not what +I did." +</p> +<p> +"I forgave thee long ago," answered the high priest. +</p> +<p> +"I did thee a bitter wrong—but the wrong I did myself was even greater. +I never knew till I went and asked—her!" At the thought of Atossa, the +Hebrew woman's eyes flashed fire, and her small fingers clenched upon +her palm. But, in an instant, her sad, weary look returned. +</p> +<p> +"That is all—if you forgive me," she said, and turned her head away. It +seemed to her that there was nothing more to be said. He did not love +her—he was far beyond love. +</p> +<p> +"Now, by Ahura Mazda, I have indeed forgiven thee. The blessing of the +All-Wise be upon thee!" Zoroaster bent again, as though to take his +leave, and he would have gone from her. +</p> +<p> +But when she heard his first footsteps, Nehushta raised herself a little +and turned quickly towards him. It seemed as though the only light she +knew were departing from her day. +</p> +<p> +"You loved me once," she said, and stopped, with an appealing look on +her pale face. It was very, weak of her; but oh! she was far spent with +sorrow and grief. Zoroaster paused, and looked back upon her, very +calmly, very gently. +</p> +<p> +"Ay—I loved you once—but not now. There is no more love in the earth +for me. But I bless you for the love you gave me." +</p> +<p> +"I loved you so well," said Nehushta. "I love you still," she added, +suddenly raising herself and gazing on him with a wild look in her eyes. +"Oh, I love you still!" she cried passionately. "I thought I had put you +away—forgotten you—trodden out your memory that I so hated I could not +bear to hear your name! Ah! why did I do it, miserable woman that I am! +I love you now—I love you—I love you with my whole heart—and it is +too late!" She fell back upon her cushion, and covered her face with +her hands, and her breast heaved with passionate, tearless sobbing. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster stood still, and a deep melancholy came over his beautiful, +ethereal face. No regret stirred his breast, no touch of the love that +had been waked his heart that slept for ever in the peace of the higher +life. He would not have changed from himself to the young lover of three +years ago, if he had been able. But he stood calm and sorrowful, as an +angel from heaven gazing on the grief of the world—his thoughts full +of sympathy for the pains of men, his soul still breathing the painless +peace of the outer firmament whence he had come and whither he would +return. +</p> +<p> +"Nehushta," he said at last, seeing that her sobbing did not cease, "it +is not meet that you should thus weep for anything that is past. Be +comforted; the years of life are few, and you are one of the great ones +of the earth. It is needful that all should suffer. Forget not that +although your heart be heavy, you are a queen, and must bear yourself as +a queen. Take your life strongly in your hands and live it. The end is +not far and your peace is at hand." +</p> +<p> +Nehushta looked up suddenly and grew very grave as he spoke. Her heavy +eyes rested on his, and she sighed—but the sigh was still broken, by +the trembling of her past sobs. +</p> +<p> +"You, who are a priest and a prophet," she said,—"you, who read the +heaven as it were a book—tell me, Zoroaster, is it not far? Shall we +meet beyond the stars, as you used to tell me—so long ago?" +</p> +<p> +"It is not far," he answered, and a gentle smile illuminated his pale +face. "Take courage—for truly it is not far." +</p> +<p> +He gazed into her eyes for a moment, and it seemed as though some of +that steadfast light penetrated into her soul, for as he turned and went +his way among the roses, a look of peace descended on her tired face, +and she fell back upon her cushion and closed her eyes, and let the +breeze of the palm-fan play over her wan cheeks and through her heavy +hair. +</p> +<p> +But Zoroaster returned into the palace, and he was very thoughtful. He +had many duties to perform, besides the daily evening sacrifice in the +temple, for Darius consulted him constantly upon many matters connected +with the state; and on every occasion Zoroaster's keen foresight and +knowledge of men found constant exercise in the development of the laws +and statutes Darius was forming for his consolidated kingdom. First of +all, the question of religion seemed to him of paramount importance; and +here Zoroaster displayed all his great powers of organisation, as well +as the true and just ideas he held upon the subject. Himself an ascetic +mystic, he foresaw the danger to others of attempting to pursue the same +course, or even of founding a system of mystical study. The object of +mankind must be the welfare of mankind, and a set of priests who should +shut themselves off from their fellow-men to pursue esoteric studies and +to acquire knowledge beyond the reach of common humanity, must +necessarily forget humanity itself in their effort to escape from it. +The only possible scheme upon which a religion for the world could be +based—especially for such a world as the empire of Darius—must be one +where the broad principle of common good living stood foremost, and +where the good of all humanity should be the good of each man's soul. +</p> +<p> +The vast influence of Zoroaster's name grew day by day, as from the +palace of Stakhar he sent forth priests to the various provinces, full +of his own ideas, bearing with them a simple form of worship and a rigid +rule of life, which the iron laws of Darius began at once to enforce to +the letter. The vast body of existing hymns, of which many were by no +means distinctly Mazdayashnian, were reduced to a limited number +containing the best and purest; and the multifarious mass of conflicting +caste practices, partly imported from India, and partly inherited by the +pure Persians from the Aryan home in Sogdiana, was simplified and +reduced to a plain rule. The endless rules of purification were cut down +to simple measures of health; the varying practices in regard to the +disposal of the dead were all done away with by a great royal edict +commanding the building of Dakhmas, or towers of death, all over the +kingdom; within which the dead were laid by persons appointed for the +purpose, and which were cleansed by them, at stated intervals. Severe +measures were taken to prevent the destruction of cattle, for there were +evident signs of the decrease of the beasts of the field in consequence +of the many internal wars that had waged of late; and special laws were +provided for the safety of dogs, which were regarded, for all reasons, +as the most valuable companions of men in those times, as a means of +protection to the flocks in the wilderness, and as the scavengers and +cleansers of the great cities. Human life was protected by the most +rigorous laws, and the utmost attention was given to providing for the +treatment of women of all classes. It would have been impossible to +conceive a system better fitted to develop the resources of a +semi-pastoral country, to preserve peace and to provide for the +increasing wants and the public health of a multiplying people. +</p> +<p> +As for the religious rites, they assumed a form and a character which +made them seem like simplicity itself by the side of the former systems; +and which, although somewhat complicated by the additions and +alterations of a later and more superstitious, generation, have still +maintained the noble and honourable characteristics imparted to them by +the great reformer and compiler of the Mazdayashnian religion. +</p> +<p> +The days flew quickly by, and Zoroaster's power grew apace. It was as +though the whole court and kingdom had been but waiting for him to come +and be the representative of wisdom and justice beside the conquering +king, who had in so short a time reduced so many revolutions and fought +so many fields in the consolidation of his empire. Zoroaster laid hold +of all the existing difficulties with a master-hand. His years of +retirement seemed to have given him the accumulated force of many men, +and the effect of his wise measures was quickly felt in every quarter of +the provinces; while his words went forth like fire in the mouths of the +priests he sent from Stakhar. He had that strange and rare gift, whereby +a man inspires in his followers the profoundest confidence and the +greatest energy to the performance of his will. He would have overthrown +a world had he found himself resisted and oppressed, but every one of +his statutes and utterances was backed by the royal arms and enforced by +decrees against which there was no appeal. In a few months his name was +spoken wherever the Persian rule was felt, and spoken everywhere with a +high reverence; in which there was no fear mixed, such as people felt +when they mentioned the Great King, and added quickly: "May he live for +ever!" +</p> +<p> +In a few months the reform was complete, and the half-clad ascetic had +risen by his own wisdom and by the power of circumstances into the +chiefest position in all Persia. Loaded with dignities, treated as the +next to the Great King in all things, wearing the royal chain of office +over his white priest's robes, and sitting at the right hand of Darius +at the feast, Zoroaster nevertheless excited no envy among the +courtiers, nor encroached in any way upon their privileges. The few men +whom Darius trusted were indeed rarely at Stakhar,—the princes who had +conspired against Smerdis, and Hydarnes and a few of the chief officers +of the army,—they were mostly in the various provinces, in command of +troops and fortresses, actively employed in enforcing the measures the +king was framing with Zoroaster, and which were to work such great +changes in the destinies of the empire. But when any of the princes or +generals were summoned to the court by the king and learned to know what +manner of man this Zoroaster was, they began to love him and to honour +him also, as all those did who were near him. And they went away, saying +that never king had so wise and just a counsellor as he was, nor one so +worthy of trust in the smallest as in the greatest things. +</p> +<p> +But the two queens watched him, and watched his growing power, with +different feelings. Nehushta scarcely ever spoke to him, but gazed at +him from her sad eyes when none saw her; pondering over his prophecy +that foretold the end so near at hand. She had a pride in seeing her old +lover the strongest in the whole land, holding the destinies of the +kingdom as in a balance; and it was a secret consolation to her to know +that he had been faithful to her after all, and that it was for her sake +that he had withdrawn into the desert and given himself to those +meditations from which he had only issued to enjoy the highest power. +And as she looked at him, she saw how he was much changed, and it hardly +seemed as though in his body he were the same man she had so loved. Only +when he spoke, and she heard the even, musical tones of his commanding +voice, she sometimes felt the blood rise to her cheeks with the longing +to hear once more some word of tender love, such as he had been used to +speak to her. But though he often looked at her and greeted her ever +kindly, his quiet, luminous eyes changed not when they gazed on her, nor +was there any warmer touch of colour in the waxen whiteness of his face. +His youth was utterly gone, as the golden light had faded from his hair. +He was not like an old man—he was hardly like a man at all; but rather +like some beautiful, strange angel from another world, who moved among +men and spoke with them, but was not of them. She seemed to look upon a +memory, to love the shadow cast on earth by a being that was gone. But +she loved the memory and the shadow well, and month by month, as she +gazed, she grew more wan and weary. +</p> +<p> +It would not have been like Darius to take any notice of a trouble that +did not present itself palpably before him and demand his attention. +Nehushta scarcely ever spoke of Zoroaster, and when the king mentioned +him to her, it was always in connection with affairs of state. She +seemed cold and indifferent, and the hot-blooded soldier monarch no +longer looked on Zoroaster as a possible rival. He had white hair—he +was therefore an old man, out of all questions of love. But Darius was +glad that the Hebrew queen never referred to former times, nor ever +seemed to regret her old lover. Had he known of that night meeting in +Atossa's toilet chamber, and of what Atossa had said then, his fury +would probably have had no bounds. But he never knew. Nehushta was too +utterly broken-hearted by the blow she had received to desire vengeance, +and though she quietly scorned all intercourse with the woman who had +injured her, she cared not to tell the king of the injury. It was too +late. Had she known of the cruel deception that had been practised on +her, one hour before she had married Darius, Atossa would have been in +her grave these three years, and Nehushta would not have been queen. But +the king knew none of these things, and rejoiced daily in the wisdom of +his chief counsellor and in the favour Auramazda had shown in sending +him such a man in his need. +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile, Atossa's hatred grew apace. She saw with anger that her power +of tormenting Nehushta was gone from her, that the spirit she had loved +to torture was broken beyond all sensibility, and that the man who had +scorned her love was grown greater than she. Against his wisdom and the +king's activity, she could do little, and her strength seemed to spend +itself in vain. Darius laughed mercilessly at her cunning objections to +Zoroaster's reforms; and Zoroaster himself eyed hear coldly, and passed +her by in silence when they met. +</p> +<p> +She bethought herself of some scheme whereby to destroy Zoroaster's +power by a sudden and violent shock; and for a time, she affected at +more than usual serenity of manner, and her smile was sweeter than ever. +If it were possible, she thought, to attract the king's attention and +forces to some distant point, it would not be a difficult matter to +produce a sudden rising or disturbance in Stakhar, situated as the place +was upon the very extreme border of the kingdom, within a few hours' +march across the hills from the uncivilised desert country, which was +infested at that time with hostile and turbulent tribes. She had a +certain number of faithful retainers at her command still, whom she +could employ as emissaries in both directions, and in spite of the scene +that had taken place at Shushan when Phraortes was brought to her by the +king, she knew she could still command his services for a revolution. +He was a Magian at heart, and hated the existing monarchy. He was rich +and powerful, and unboundedly vain—he could easily be prevailed upon to +accept the principality of Media as a reward for helping to destroy the +Persian kingdom; and indeed the matter had been discussed between him +and the queen long ago. +</p> +<p> +Atossa revolved her scheme in her mind most carefully for two whole +months, and at last she resolved to act. Eluding all vigilance of the +king, and laughing to herself at the folly of Darius and Zoroaster in +allowing her such liberty, she succeeded without much trouble in +despatching a letter to Phraortes, inquiring whether her affairs were +now in such a prosperous condition as to admit of their being extended. +</p> +<p> +On the other hand, she sent a black slave she owned, with gifts, into +the country of the barbarian tribes beyond the hills, to discover +whether they could be easily tempted. This man she bribed with the +promise of freedom and rich possessions, to undertake the dangerous +mission. She knew him to be faithful, and able to perform the part he +was to play. +</p> +<p> +In less than two months Phraortes sent a reply, wherein he stated that +the queen's affairs were so prosperous that they might with safety be +extended as she desired, and that he was ready to undertake any +improvements provided she sent him the necessary directions and +instructions. +</p> +<p> +The slave returned from the land of the dwellers in tents, with the +information that they were numerous as the sands of the sea, riding like +the whirlwinds across the desert, keen as a race of eagles for prey, +devouring as locusts spreading over a field of corn, and greedy as +jackals upon the track of a wounded antelope. Nothing but the terror of +the Great King's name restrained them within their boundaries; which +they would leave at a moment's notice, as allies of any one who would +pay them. They dwelt mostly beyond the desert to eastward in the low +hill country; and they shaved their beards and slept with their horses +in their tents. They were more horrible to look upon than the devils of +the mountains, and fiercer than wolves upon the mountain paths. +</p> +<p> +Allowing for the imagery of her slave's account, Atossa comprehended +that the people described could be easily excited to make a hostile +descent upon the southern part of the kingdom, and notably upon the +unprotected region about Stakhar, where the fortress could afford +shelter to a handful of troops and fugitives, but could in no wise +defend the whole of the fertile district from a hostile incursion. +</p> +<p> +Atossa spent much time in calculating the distance from the palace to +the fortress, and she came to the conclusion that a body of persons +moving with some encumbrance might easily reach the stronghold in half a +day. Her plan was a simple one, and easy of execution; though there was +no limit to the evil results its success might have upon the kingdom. +</p> +<p> +She intended that a revolution should break out in Media, not under the +leadership of Phraortes, lest she herself should perish, having been +already suspected of complicity with him. But a man could be found—some +tool of her powerful agent, who could be readily induced to set himself +up as a pretender to the principality of the province, and he could +easily be crushed at a later period by Phraortes, who would naturally +furnish the money and supplies for the insurrection. +</p> +<p> +As soon as the news reached Stakhar, Darius would, in all probability, +set out for Media in haste to arrive at the scene of the disturbance. He +would probably leave Zoroaster behind to manage the affairs of state, +which had centred in Stakhar during the last year and more. If, however, +he took him with him, and left the court to follow on as far as Shushan, +Atossa could easily cause an incursion of the barbarous tribes from the +desert. The people of the south would find themselves abandoned by the +king, and would rise against him, and Atossa could easily seize the +power. If Zoroaster remained behind, the best plan would be to let the +barbarians take their own course and destroy him. Separated from any +armed force of magnitude sufficient to cope with a sudden invasion, he +would surely fall in the struggle, or take refuge in an ignominious +flight. With the boldness of her nature, Atossa trusted to circumstances +to provide her with an easy escape for herself; and in the last +instance, she trusted, as she had ever done, to her marvellous beauty to +save her from harm. To her beauty alone she owed her escape from many a +fit of murderous anger in the time of Cambyses, and to her beauty she +owed her salvation when Darius found her at Shushan, the wife and +accomplice of the impostor Smerdis. She might again save herself by that +means, if by no other, should she, by any mischance, fall into the hands +of the barbarians. But she was determined to overthrow Zoroaster, even +if she had to destroy her husband's kingdom in the effort. It was a bold +and simple plan, and she doubted not of being successful. +</p> +<p> +During the months while she was planning these things, she was very calm +and placid; her eyes met Zoroaster's with a frank and friendly glance +that would have disarmed one less completely convinced of her badness; +and her smile never failed the king when he looked for it. She bore his +jests with unfailing equanimity and gentleness, for she felt that she +should not have to bear them long. Even to Nehushta she gave an +occasional glance as though of hurt sympathy—a look that seemed to say +to the world that she regretted the Hebrew queen's sullen temper and +moody ways, so different from her own, but regarded them all the while +as the outward manifestation of some sickness, for which she was to be +pitied rather than blamed. +</p> +<p> +But, as the time sped, her heart grew more and more glad, for the end +was at hand, and there was a smell of death in the air of the sweet +rose-valley. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0029" id="h2HCH0029"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. +</h2> +<p> +Once more the spring months had come, and the fields grew green and the +trees put forth their leaves. Four years had passed since Daniel had +died in Ecbatana, leaving his legacy of wisdom to Zoroaster; and almost +a year had gone by since Zoroaster had returned to the court at +Stakhar. The time had sped very swiftly, except for Nehushta, whose life +was heavy with a great weariness and her eyes hollow with suffering +sleeplessness. She was not always the same, saving that she was always +unhappy. There were days when she was resigned to her lot and merely +hoped that it would soon be over; and she wondered how it was that she +did not slip out of the gardens at evening, and go and sink her care and +her great sorrow in the cool waves of the Araxes, far down below. But +then the thought came over her that she must see his face once more; and +it was always once more, so that the last time never came. And again, +there were days when she hoped all things, madly, indiscriminately, +without sequence—the king might die, Zoroaster might again love her, +all might be well. But the mood of a hope that is senseless is very +fleet, and despair follows close in its footsteps. Nehushta grew each +time more sad, as she grew more certain that for her there was no hope. +</p> +<p> +At least it seemed as though Atossa had given up loving Zoroaster and +thought no more of him than of another. Indeed Atossa seemed more +anxious to please the king than formerly, in proportion as Darius seemed +less easily pleased by her. But over all, Zoroaster's supremacy was felt +in the palace, and though he was never known to be angry with any one, +he was more feared than the fierce king himself, for his calm clear eyes +were hard to meet and the words that fell from his lips had in them the +ring of fate. Moreover, he was known and his power was dreaded from one +end of the kingdom to the other, and his name was like the king's +signet, which sealed all things, and there was no appeal. +</p> +<p> +Upon a fair morning in the spring-time, when the sun was shining outside +upon the roses still wet with dew, the king sat in an inner hall, half +lying upon a broad couch, on which the warm rays of the sun fell through +an upper window. He was watching with absorbed attention the tricks of +an Indian juggler who had lately arrived at the court, and whom he had +summoned that morning to amuse a leisure hour, for when the king was not +actively engaged in business, or fighting, he loved some amusement, +being of a restless temper and mind that needed constant occupation. +</p> +<p> +Atossa sat near him, upon a carved chair, turning over and over in her +fingers a string of pearls as she gazed at the performances of the +juggler. Two spearmen, clad in blue and scarlet and gold, stood +motionless by the door, and Darius and Atossa watched the sleight-handed +Indian alone. +</p> +<p> +The man tossed a knife into the air and caught it, then two, then three, +increasing the number in rapid succession till a score of bright blades +made a shining circle in the air as he quickly tossed them up and passed +them from hand to hand and tossed them again. Darius laughed at the +man's skill, and looked up at the queen. +</p> +<p> +"You remind me of that fellow," said Darius. +</p> +<p> +"The king is very gracious to his handmaiden," answered Atossa, smiling, +"I think I am less skilful, but more fair." +</p> +<p> +"You are fairer, it is true," returned the king; "but as for your skill, +I know not. You seem always to be playing with knives, but you never +wound yourself any more than he does." +</p> +<p> +The queen looked keenly at Darius, but her lips smiled gently. The +thought crossed her mind that the king perhaps knew something of what +had passed between her and Nehushta nearly a year before, with regard to +a certain Indian dagger. The knives the juggler tossed in the air +reminded her of it by their shape. But the king laughed gaily and she +answered without hesitation: +</p> +<p> +"I would it were true, for then I could be not only the king's wife, but +the king's juggler!" +</p> +<p> +"I meant not so," laughed Darius. "The two would hardly suit one +another." +</p> +<p> +"And yet, I need more skill than this Indian fellow, to be the king's +wife," answered the queen slowly. +</p> +<p> +"Said I not so?" +</p> +<p> +"Nay—but you meant not so," replied Atossa, looking down. +</p> +<p> +"What I say, I mean," he returned. "You need all the fairness of your +face to conceal the evil in your heart, as this man needs all his skill +in handling those sharp knives, that would cut off his fingers if, +unawares, he touched the wrong edge of them." +</p> +<p> +"I conceal nothing," said the queen, with a light laugh. "The king has +a thousand eyes—how should I conceal anything from him?" +</p> +<p> +"That is a question which I constantly ask myself," answered Darius. +"And yet, I often think I know your thoughts less well than those of the +black girl who fans you when you are hot, and whose attention is +honestly concentrated upon keeping the flies from your face—or of +yonder stolid spearmen at the door, who watch us, and honestly wish they +were kings and queens, to lie all day upon a silken couch, and watch the +tricks of a paid conjurer." +</p> +<p> +As Darius spoke, the guards he glanced at turned suddenly and faced each +other, standing on each side of the doorway, and brought their heavy +spears to the ground with a ringing noise. In a moment the tall, thin +figure of Zoroaster, in his white robes, appeared between them. He +stopped respectfully at the threshold, waiting for the king to notice +him, for, in spite of his power and high rank, he chose to maintain +rigidly the formalities of the court. +</p> +<p> +Darius made a sign and the juggler caught his whirling knives, one after +the other, and thrust them into his bag, and withdrew. +</p> +<p> +"Hail, Zoroaster!" said the king. "Come near and sit beside me, and tell +me your business." +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster came forward and made a salutation, but he remained standing, +as though the matter on which he came were urgent. +</p> +<p> +"Hail, king, and live for ever!" he said. "I am a bearer of evil news. A +rider has come speeding from Ecbatana, escaped from the confusion. Media +has revolted, and the king's guards are besieged within the fortress of +Ecbatana." +</p> +<p> +Darius sat upright upon the edge of his couch; the knotted veins upon +his temples swelled with sudden anger and his brow flushed darkly. +</p> +<p> +"Doubtless it is Phraortes who has set himself up as king," he said. +Then, suddenly and fiercely, he turned upon Atossa. "Now is your hour +come," he cried in uncontrollable anger. "You shall surely die this day, +for you have done this, and the powers of evil shall have your soul, +which is of them, and of none other." +</p> +<p> +Atossa, for the first time in her whole life, turned pale to the lips +and trembled, for she already seemed to taste death in the air. But even +then, her boldness did not desert her, and she rose to her feet with a +stateliness and a calmness that almost awed the king's anger to silence. +</p> +<p> +"Slay me if thou wilt," she said in a low voice, but firmly. "I am +innocent of this deed." The great lie fell from her lips with a calmness +that a martyr might have envied. But Zoroaster stepped between her and +the king. As he passed her, his clear, calm eyes met hers for a moment. +He read in her face the fear of death, and he pitied her. +</p> +<p> +"Let the king hear me," he said. "It is not Phraortes who has headed the +revolt, and it is told me that Phraortes has fled from Ecbatana. Let the +king send forth his armies and subdue the rebels, and let this woman go; +for the fear of death is upon her and it may be that she has not sinned +in this matter. And if she have indeed sinned, will the king make war +upon women, or redden his hands with the blood of his own wife?" +</p> +<p> +"You speak as a priest—I feel as a man," returned the king, savagely. +"This woman has deserved death many times—let her die. So shall we be +free of her." +</p> +<p> +"It is not lawful to do this thing," returned Zoroaster coldly, and his +glance rested upon the angry face of Darius, as he spoke, and seemed to +subdue his furious wrath. "The king cannot know whether she have +deserved death or not, until he have the rebels of Ecbatana before him. +Moreover, the blood of a woman is a perpetual shame to the man who has +shed it." +</p> +<p> +The king seemed to waver, and Atossa, who watched him keenly, understood +that the moment had come in which she might herself make an appeal to +him. In the suddenness of the situation she had time to ask herself why +Zoroaster, whom she had so bitterly injured, should intercede for her. +She could not understand his nobility of soul, and she feared some trap, +into which she should fall by and by. But, meanwhile, she chose to +appeal to the king's mercy herself, lest she should feel that she owed +her preservation wholly to Zoroaster. It was a bold thought, worthy of a +woman of her strength, in a moment of supreme danger. +</p> +<p> +With a quick movement she tore the tiara from her head and let it fall +upon the floor. The mass of her silken hair fell all about her like a +vesture of gold, and she threw herself at the king's feet, embracing his +knees with a passionate gesture of appeal. Her face was very pale, and +the beauty of it seemed to grow by the unnatural lack of colour, while +her soft blue eyes looked up into the king's face with such an +expression of imploring supplication that he was fain to acknowledge to +himself that she moved his heart, for she had never looked so fair +before. She spoke no word, but held his knees, and as she gazed, two +beautiful great tears rolled slowly from under her eyelids, and trembled +upon her pale, soft cheeks, and her warm, quick breath went up to his +face. +</p> +<p> +Darius tried to push her from him, but she would not go, and he was +forced to look at her, and his anger melted, and he smiled somewhat +grimly, though his brows were bent. +</p> +<p> +"Go to," he said, "I jested. It is impossible for a man to slay anything +so beautiful as you." +</p> +<p> +Atossa's colour returned to her cheeks, and bending down, she kissed the +king's knees and his hands, and her golden hair fell all about her and +upon the king's lap. But Darius rose impatiently, and left her kneeling +by the couch. He was already angry with himself for having forgiven her, +and he hated his own weakness bitterly. +</p> +<p> +"I will myself go hence at once with the guards, and I will take half +the force from the fortress of Stakhar and go to Shushan, and thence, +with the army that is there, I will be in Ecbatana in a few days. And I +will utterly crush out these rebels who speak lies and do not +acknowledge me. Remain here, Zoroaster, and govern this province until I +return in triumph." +</p> +<p> +Darius glanced once more at Atossa, who lay by the couch, half upon it +and half upon the floor, seemingly dazed at what had occurred; and then +he turned upon his heel and strode out of the room between the two +spearmen of the guard, who raised their weapons as he passed, and +followed him with a quick, rhythmical tread down the broad corridor +outside. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster was left alone with the queen. +</p> +<p> +As soon as Darius was gone, Atossa rose to her feet, and with all +possible calmness proceeded to rearrange her disordered hair and to +place her head-dress upon her head. Zoroaster stood and watched her; her +hand trembled a little, but she seemed otherwise unmoved by what had +occurred. She glanced up at him from under her eyelids as she stood with +her head bent down and her hands raised, to arrange her hair. +</p> +<p> +"Why did you beg the king to spare my life?" she asked. "You, of all +men, must wish me dead." +</p> +<p> +"I do not wish you dead," he answered coldly. "You have yet much evil to +do in the world, but it will not be all evil. Neither did I need to +intercede for you. Your time is not come, and though the king's hand +were raised to strike you, it would not fall upon you, for you are fated +to accomplish many things." +</p> +<p> +"Do you not hate me, Zoroaster?" +</p> +<p> +It was one of the queen's chief characteristics that she never attempted +concealment when it could be of no use, and in such cases affected an +almost brutal frankness. She almost laughed as she asked the +question—it seemed so foolish, and yet she asked it. +</p> +<p> +"I do not hate you," answered the priest. "You are beneath hatred." +</p> +<p> +"And I presume you are far above it?" she said very scornfully, and eyed +him in silence for a moment. "You are a poor creature," she pursued, +presently. "I heartily despise you. You suffered yourself to be deceived +by a mere trick; you let the woman you loved go from you without an +effort to keep her. You might have been a queen's lover, and you +despised her. And now, when you could have the woman who did you a +mortal injury be led forth to death before your eyes, you interceded for +her and saved her life. You are a fool. I despise you." +</p> +<p> +"I rejoice that you do," returned Zoroaster coldly. "I would not have +your admiration, if I might be paid for receiving it with the whole +world and the wisdom thereof." +</p> +<p> +"Not even if you might have for your wife the woman you loved in your +poor, insipid way—but you loved her nevertheless? She is pale and +sorrowful, poor creature; she haunts the gardens like the shadow of +death; she wearies the king with her wan face. She is eating her heart +out for you—the king took her from you, you could take her from him +to-morrow, if you pleased. The greater your folly, because you do not. +As for her, her foolishness is such that she would follow you to the +ends of the earth—poor girl! she little knows what a pale, wretched, +sapless thing you have in your breast for a heart." +</p> +<p> +But Zoroaster gazed calmly at the queen in quiet scorn at her scoffing. +</p> +<p> +"Think you that the sun is obscured, because you can draw yonder curtain +before your window and keep out his rays?" he asked. "Think you that the +children of light feel pain because the children of darkness say in +their ignorance that there is no light?" +</p> +<p> +"You speak in parables—having nothing plain to say," returned the +queen, thrusting a golden pin through her hair at the back and through +the folds of her linen tiara. But she felt Zoroaster's eyes upon her, +and looking up, she was fascinated by the strange light in them. She +strove to look away from him, but could not. Suddenly her heart sank +within her. She had heard of Indian charmers and of Chaldean +necromancers and wise men, who could perform wonders and slay their +enemies with a glance. She struggled to take her eyes from his, but it +was of no use. The subtle power of the universal agent had got hold upon +her, and she was riveted to the spot so long as he kept his eyes upon +her. He spoke again, and his voice seemed to come to her with a +deafening metallic force, as though it vibrated to her very brain. +</p> +<p> +"You may scoff at me; shield yourself from me, if you can," said +Zoroaster. "Lift one hand, if you are able—make one step from me, if +you have the strength. You cannot; you are altogether in my power. If I +would, I could kill you as you stand, and there would be no mark of +violence upon you, that a man should be able to say you were slain. You +boast of your strength and power. See, you follow the motion of my hand, +as a dog would. See, you kneel before me, and prostrate yourself in the +dust at my feet, at my bidding. Lie there, and think well whether you +are able to scoff any more. You kneeled to the king of your own will; +you kneel to me at mine, and though you had the strength of a hundred +men, you must kneel there till I bid you rise." +</p> +<p> +The queen was wholly under the influence of the terrible power +Zoroaster possessed. She was no more able to resist his will than a +drowning man can resist the swift torrent that bears him down to his +death. She lay at the priest's feet, helpless and nerveless. He gazed at +her for a moment as she crouched before him. +</p> +<p> +"Rise," he said, "go your way, and remember me." +</p> +<p> +Relieved from the force of the subtle influence he projected, Atossa +sprang to her feet and staggered back a few paces, till she fell upon +the couch. +</p> +<p> +"What manner of man art thou?" she said, staring wildly before her, as +though recovering from some heavy blow that had stunned her. +</p> +<p> +But she saw Zoroaster's white robes disappear through the door, even +while the words were on her lips, and she sank back in stupefaction upon +the cushions of the couch. +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile the trumpets sounded in the courts of the palace and the +guards were marshalled out at the king's command. Messengers mounted and +rode furiously up the valley to the fortress, to warn the troops there +to make ready for the march; and before the sun reached the meridian, +Darius was on horseback, in his armour, at the foot of the great +staircase. The blazing noonday light shone upon his polished helmet and +on the golden wings that stood out on either side of it, and the hot +rays were sent flashing back from his gilded harness, and from the broad +scales of his horse's armour. +</p> +<p> +The slaves of the palace stood in long ranks before the columns of the +portico and upon the broad stairs on each side, and Zoroaster stood on +the lowest step, attended by a score of his priests, to receive the +king's last instructions. +</p> +<p> +"I go forth, and in two months I will return in triumph," said Darius. +"Meanwhile keep thou the government in thy hand, and let not the laws be +relaxed because the king is not here. Let the sacrifice be performed +daily in the temple, and let all things proceed as though I myself were +present. I will not that petty strifes arise because I am away. There +shall be peace—peace—peace forever throughout my kingdom, though I +shed much blood to obtain it. And all the people who are evildoers and +makers of strife and sedition shall tremble at the name of Darius, the +king of kings, and of Zoroaster, the high priest of the All-Wise. In +peace I leave you, to cause peace whither I go; and in peace I will come +again to you. Farewell, Zoroaster, truest friend and wisest counsellor; +in thy keeping I leave all things. Take thou the signet and bear it +wisely till I come." +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster received the royal ring and bowed a low obeisance. Then Darius +pressed his knees to his horse's sides and the noble steed sprang +forward upon the straight, broad road, like an arrow from a bow. The +mounted guards grasped their spears and gathered their bridles in their +hands and followed swiftly, four and four, shoulder to shoulder, and +knee to knee, their bronze cuirasses and polished helmets blazing in the +noonday sun and dashing as they galloped on; and in a moment there was +nothing seen of the royal guard but a tossing wave of light far up the +valley; and the white dust, that had risen, as they plunged forward, +settled slowly in the still, hot air upon the roses and shrubs that hung +over the enclosure of the garden at the foot of the broad staircase. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster gazed for a moment on the track of the swift warriors; then +went up the steps, followed by his priests, and entered the palace. +</p> +<p> +Atossa and Nehushta had watched the departure of the king from their +upper windows, at the opposite ends of the building, from behind the +gilded lattices. Atossa had recovered somewhat from the astonishment and +fear that had taken possession of her when she had found herself under +Zoroaster's strange influence, and as she saw Darius ride away, while +Zoroaster remained standing upon the steps, her courage rose. She +resolved that nothing should induce her again to expose herself to the +chief priest's unearthly power, and she laughed to herself as she +thought that she might yet destroy him, and free herself from him for +ever. She wondered how she could ever have given a thought of love to +such a man, and she summoned her black slave, and sent him upon his last +errand, by which he was to obtain his freedom. +</p> +<p> +But Nehushta gazed sadly after the galloping guards, and her eye strove +to distinguish the king's crest before the others, till all was mingled +in the distance, in an indiscriminate reflection of moving light, and +then lost to view altogether in the rising dust. Whether she loved him +truly, or loved him not, he had been true and kind to her, and had +rested his dark head upon her shoulder that very morning before he went, +and had told her that, of all living women, he loved her best. But she +had felt a quick sting of pain in her heart, because she knew that she +would give her life to lie for one short hour on Zoroaster's breast and +sob out all her sorrow and die. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0030" id="h2HCH0030"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER XIX. +</h2> +<p> +Four days after the king's departure, Nehushta was wandering in the +gardens as the sun was going down, according to her daily custom. There +was a place she loved well—a spot where the path widened to a circle, +round which the roses grew, thick and fragrant with the breath of the +coming summer, and soft green shrubs and climbing things that twisted +their tender arms about the myrtle trees. The hedge was so high that it +cut off all view of the gardens beyond, and only the black north-western +hills could just be seen above the mass of shrubbery; beyond the +mountains and all over the sky, the glow of the setting sun spread like +a rosy veil; and the light tinged the crests of the dark hills and +turned the myrtle leaves to a strange colour, and gilded the highest +roses to a deep red gold. +</p> +<p> +The birds were all singing their evening song in loud, happy chorus, as +only Eastern birds can sing; the air was warm and still, and the tiny +gnats chased each other with lightning quickness in hazy swarms +overhead, in the reflected glow. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta loved the little open space, for it was there that, a year ago, +she had sent for Zoroaster to come to her that she might tell him she +knew the truth at last. She stood still and listened to the singing of +the birds, gazing upwards at the glowing sky, where the red was fast +turning to purple; she breathed in the warm air and sighed softly; +wishing, as she wished every night, that the sunset might fade to +darkness, and there might be no morning for her any more. +</p> +<p> +She had lived almost entirely alone since Darius had gone to Shushan; +she avoided Atossa, and she made no effort to see Zoroaster, who was +entirely absorbed by the management of the affairs of the state. In the +king's absence there were no banquets, as there used to be when he was +in the palace, and the two queens were free to lead whatever life seemed +best to them, independently of each other and of the courtiers. Atossa +had chosen to shut herself up in the seclusion of her own apartments, +and Nehushta rarely left her own part of the palace until the evening. +But when the sun was low, she loved to linger among the roses in the +garden, till the bright shield of the moon was high in the east, or till +the faint stars burned in their full splendour, and the nightingales +began to call and trill their melancholy song from end to end of the +sweet valley. +</p> +<p> +So she stood on this evening, looking up into the sky, and her slaves +waited her pleasure at a little distance. But while she gazed, she heard +quick steps along the walk, and the slave-women sprang aside to let some +one pass. Nehushta turned and found herself face to face with Atossa, +who stood before her, wrapped in a dark mantle, a white veil of Indian +gauze wound about her head, and half-concealing her face. It was a year +since they had met in private, and Nehushta drew herself suddenly to her +height, and the old look of scorn came over her dark features. She would +have asked haughtily what brought Atossa there, but the fair queen was +first in her speech. There was hardly even the affectation of +friendliness in her tones, as she stood there alone and unattended, +facing her enemy. +</p> +<p> +"I came to ask if you wished to go with me," said Atossa. +</p> +<p> +"Where? Why should I go with you?" +</p> +<p> +"I am weary of the palace. I think I will go to Shushan to be nearer the +king. To-night I will rest at the fortress." +</p> +<p> +Nehushta stared coldly at the fair woman, muffled in her cloak and veil. +</p> +<p> +"What is it to me whether you go to the ends of the earth, or whether +you remain here?" she asked. +</p> +<p> +"I wished to know whether you desired to accompany me, else I should not +have asked you the question. I feared that you might be lonely here in +Stakhar—will you not come?" +</p> +<p> +"Again I say, why do you ask me? What have I to do with you?" returned +Nehushta, drawing her mantle about her as though to leave Atossa. +</p> +<p> +"If the king were here, he would bid you go," said Atossa, looking +intently upon her enemy. +</p> +<p> +"It is for me to judge what the king would wish me to do—not for you. +Leave me in peace. Go your way if you will—it is nothing to me." +</p> +<p> +"You will not come?" Atossa's voice softened and she smiled serenely. +Nehushta turned fiercely upon her. +</p> +<p> +"No! If you are going—go! I want you not!" +</p> +<p> +"You are glad I am going, are you not?" asked Atossa, gently. +</p> +<p> +"I am glad—with a gladness only you can know. I would you were already +gone!" +</p> +<p> +"You rejoice that I leave you alone with your lover. It is very +natural——" +</p> +<p> +"My lover!" cried Nehushta, her wrath rising and blazing in her eyes. +</p> +<p> +"Ay, your lover! the thin, white-haired priest, that once was +Zoroaster—your old lover—your poor old lover!" +</p> +<p> +Nehushta steadied herself for a moment. She felt as though she must tear +this woman in pieces. But she controlled her anger by a great effort, +though she was nearly choking as she drew herself up and answered. +</p> +<p> +"I would that the powers of evil, of whom you are, might strangle the +thrice-accursed lie in your false throat!" she said, in low fierce +tones, and turned away. +</p> +<p> +Still Atossa stood there, smiling as ever. Nehushta looked back as she +reached the opposite end of the little plot. +</p> +<p> +"Are you not yet gone? Shall I bid my slaves take you by the throat and +force you from me?" But, as she spoke, she looked beyond Atossa, and saw +that a body of dark men and women stood in the path. Atossa had not come +unprotected. +</p> +<p> +"I see you are the same foolish woman you ever were," answered the older +queen. Just then, a strange sound echoed far off among the hills above, +strange and far as the scream of a distant vulture sailing its mate to +the carrion feast—an unearthly cry that rang high in the air from side +to side of the valley, and struck the dark crags and doubled in the +echo, and died away in short, faint pulsations of sound upon the +startled air. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta started slightly. It might have been the cry of a wolf, or of +some wild beast prowling upon the heights, but she had never heard such +a sound before. But Atossa showed no surprise, and her smile returned +to her lips more sweetly than ever—those lips that had kissed three +kings, and that had never spoken truly a kind or a merciful word to +living man, or child, or woman. +</p> +<p> +"Farewell, Nehushta," she said, "if you will not come, I will leave you +to yourself—and to your lover. I daresay he can protect you from harm. +Heard you that sound? It is the cry of your fate. Farewell, foolish +girl, and may every undreamed-of quality of evil attend you to your +dying day——" +</p> +<p> +"Go!" cried Nehushta, turning and pointing to the path with a gesture of +terrible anger. Atossa moved back a little. +</p> +<p> +"It is no wonder I linger awhile—I thought you were past suffering. If +I had time, I might yet find some way of tormenting you—you are very +foolish——" +</p> +<p> +Nehushta walked rapidly forward upon her, as though to do her some +violence with her own hands. But Atossa, as she gave way before the +angry Hebrew woman, drew from beneath her mantle the Indian knife she +had once taken from her. Nehushta stopped short, as she saw the bright +blade thrust out against her bosom. But Atossa held it up one moment, +and then threw it down upon the grass at her feet. +</p> +<p> +"Take it!" she cried, and in her voice, that had been so sweet and +gentle a moment before, there suddenly rang out a strange defiance and a +bitter wrath. "Take what is yours—I loathe it, for it smells of +you—and you, and all that is yours, I loathe and hate and scorn!" +</p> +<p> +She turned with a quick movement and disappeared amongst her slaves, +who closed in their ranks behind her, and followed her rapidly down the +path. Nehushta remained standing upon the grass, peering after her +retreating enemy through the gloom; for the glow had faded from the +western sky while they had been speaking, and it was now dusk. +</p> +<p> +Suddenly, as she stood, almost transfixed with the horror of her fearful +anger, that strange cry rang again through the lofty crags and crests of +the mountains, and echoed and died away. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta's slave-women, who had hung back in fear and trembling during +the altercation between the two queens, came forward and gathered about +her. +</p> +<p> +"What is it?" asked the queen in a low voice, for her own heart beat +with the anticipation of a sudden danger. "It is the cry of your fate," +Atossa had said—verily it sounded like the scream of a coming death. +</p> +<p> +"It is the Druksh of the mountains!" said one. +</p> +<p> +"It is the howling of wolves," said another, a Median woman from the +Zagros mountains. +</p> +<p> +"The war-cry of the children of Anak is like that," said a little Syrian +maid, and her teeth chattered with fear. +</p> +<p> +As they listened, crouching and pressing about their royal mistress in +their terror, they heard below in the road, the sound of horses and men +moving quickly past the foot of the gardens. It was Atossa and her +train, hurrying along the highway in the direction of the fortress. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta suddenly pushed the slaves aside, and fled down the path +towards the palace, and the dark women hurried after. One of them +stooped and picked up the Indian knife and hid it in her bosom as she +ran. +</p> +<p> +The whole truth had flashed across Nehushta's mind in an instant. Some +armed force was collecting upon the hills to descend in a body upon the +palace, to accomplish her destruction. Atossa had fled to a place of +safety, after enjoying the pleasure of tormenting her doomed enemy to +the last moment, well knowing that no power would induce Nehushta to +accompany her. But one thought filled Nehushta's mind in her +instantaneous comprehension of the truth; she must find Zoroaster, and +warn him of the danger. They would have time to fly together, yet. +Atossa must have known how to time her flight, since the plot was hers, +and she had not yet been many minutes upon the road. +</p> +<p> +Through the garden she ran, and up the broad steps to the portico. +Slaves were moving about under the colonnade, leisurely lighting the +great torches that burned there all night. They had not heard the +strange cries from the hills; or, hearing only a faint echo, had paid no +attention to the sound. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta paused, breathless with running. As she realised the quiet that +reigned in the palace, where the slaves went about their duties as +though nothing had occurred, or were likely to occur, it seemed to her +as though she must have been dreaming. It was impossible that if there +were any real danger, it should not have become known at least to some +one of the hundreds of slaves who thronged the outer halls and +corridors. Moreover there were numerous scribes and officers connected +with the government; some few nobles whom Darius had left behind when he +went to Shushan; there were their wives and families residing in various +parts, of the palace and in the buildings below it, and there was a +strong detachment of Persian guards. If there were danger, some one must +have known it. +</p> +<p> +She did not know that at that moment the inhabitants of the lower palace +were already alarmed, while some were flying, leaving everything behind, +in their haste to reach the fortress higher up the valley. Everything +seemed quiet where she was, and she determined to go alone in search of +Zoroaster, without raising any alarm. Just as she entered the doorway of +the great hall, she heard the cry again echoing behind her through the +valley. It was as much as she could do to control the terror that again +took hold of her at the dreaded sound, as she passed the files of bowing +slaves, and went in between the two tall spearmen who guarded the inner +entrance, and grounded their spears with military precision as she went +by. +</p> +<p> +She had one slave whom she trusted more than the rest. It was the little +Syrian maid, who was half a Hebrew. +</p> +<p> +"Go," she said quickly, in her own tongue. "Go in one direction and I +will go in another, and search out Zoroaster, the high priest, and bring +him to my chamber. I also will search, but if I find him not, I will +wait for thee there." +</p> +<p> +The dark girl turned and ran through the halls, swift as a startled +fawn, to fulfil her errand, and Nehushta went another way upon her +search. She was ashamed to ask for Zoroaster. The words of her enemy +were still ringing in her ears—"alone with your lover;" it might be the +common talk of the court for all she knew. She went silently on her way. +She knew where Zoroaster dwelt. The curtain of his simple chamber was +thrown aside and a faint light burned in the room. It was empty; a +scroll lay open upon the floor beside a purple cushion, as he had left +it, and his long white mantle lay tossed upon the couch which served him +for a bed. +</p> +<p> +She gazed lovingly for one moment into the open chamber, and then went +on through the broad corridor, dimly lighted everywhere with small oil +lamps. She looked into the council chamber and it was deserted. The long +rows of double seats were empty, and gleamed faintly in the light. High +upon the dais at the end, a lamp burned above the carved chair of ivory +and gold, whereon the king sat when the council was assembled. There was +no one there. Farther on, the low entrance to the treasury was guarded +by four spearmen, whose arms clanged upon the floor as the queen passed. +But she saw that the massive bolts and the huge square locks upon them +were in their places. There was no one within. In the colonnade beyond, +a few nobles stood talking carelessly together, waiting for their +evening meal to be served them in a brightly illuminated hall, of which +the doors stood wide open to admit the cool air of the coming night. The +magnificently-arrayed courtiers made a low obeisance and then stood in +astonishment as the queen went by. She held up her head and nodded to +them, trying to look as though nothing disturbed her. +</p> +<p> +On and on she went through the whole wing, till she came to her own +apartment. Not so much as one white-robed priest had she seen upon all +her long search. Zoroaster was certainly not in the portion of the +palace through, which she had come. Entering her own chambers, she +looked round for the little Syrian maid, but she had not returned. +</p> +<p> +Unable to bear the suspense any longer, she hastily despatched a second +slave in search of the chief priest—a Median woman, who had been with +her in Ecbatana. +</p> +<p> +It seemed as though the minutes were lengthened to hours. Nehushta sat +with her hands pressed to her temples, that throbbed as though the fever +would burst her brain, and the black fan-girl plied the palm-leaf with +all her might, thinking that her mistress suffered from the heat. The +other women she dismissed; and she sat waiting beneath the soft light of +the perfumed lamp, the very figure and incarnation of anxiety. +</p> +<p> +Something within her told her that she was in great and imminent danger, +and the calm she had seen in the palace could not allay in her mind the +terror of that unearthly cry she had heard three times from the hills. +As she thought of it, she shuddered, and the icy fear seemed to run +through all her limbs, chilling the marrow in her bones, and freezing +her blood suddenly in its mad course. +</p> +<p> +"Left alone with your lover"—"it is the cry of your fate"—Atossa's +words kept ringing in her ears like a knell—the knell of a shameful +death; and as she went over the bitter taunts of her enemy, her chilled +pulses beat again more feverishly than before. She could not bear to sit +still, but rose and paced the room in intense agitation. Would they +never come back, those dallying slave-women? +</p> +<p> +The fan-girl tried to follow her mistress, and her small red eyes +watched cautiously every one of Nehushta's movements. But the queen +waved her off and the slave went and stood beside the chair where she +had sat, her fan hanging idly in her hand. At that moment, the Median +woman entered the chamber. +</p> +<p> +"Where is he?" asked Nehushta, turning suddenly upon her. +</p> +<p> +The woman made a low obeisance and answered in trembling tones: +</p> +<p> +"They say that the high priest left the palace two hours ago, with the +queen Atossa. They say——" +</p> +<p> +"Thou liest!" cried Nehushta vehemently, and her face turned white, as +she stamped her foot upon the black marble pavement. The woman sprang +back with a cry of terror, and ran towards the door. She had never seen +her mistress so angry. But Nehushta called her back. +</p> +<p> +"Come hither—what else do they say?" she asked, controlling herself as +best she could. +</p> +<p> +"They say that the wild riders of the eastern desert are descending from +the hills," answered the slave hurriedly and almost under her breath. +"Every one is flying—everything is in confusion—I hear them even now, +hurrying to and fro in the courts, the soldiers——" +</p> +<p> +But, even as she spoke, an echo of distant voices and discordant cries +came through the curtains of the door from without, the rapid, uneven +tread of people running hither and thither in confusion, the loud voices +of startled men and the screams of frightened women—all blending +together in a wild roar that grew every moment louder. +</p> +<p> +Just then, the little Syrian maid came running in, almost tearing the +curtains from their brazen rods as she thrust the hangings aside. She +came and fell breathless at Nehushta's feet and clasped her knees. +</p> +<p> +"Fly, fly, beloved mistress," she cried, "the devils of the mountains +are upon us—they cover the hills—they are closing every entrance—the +people in the lower palace are all slain——" +</p> +<p> +"Where is Zoroaster?" In the moment of supreme danger, Nehushta grew +calm, and her senses were restored to her again. +</p> +<p> +"He is in the temple with the priests—by this time he is surely +slain—he could know of nothing that is going on—fly, fly!" cried the +poor Syrian girl in an agony of terror. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta laid her hand kindly upon the head of the little maid, and +turning in the pride of her courage, now that she knew the worst, she +spoke calmly to the other slaves who thronged in from the outer hall, +some breathless with fear, others screaming in an agony of acute dread. +</p> +<p> +"On which side are they coming?" she asked. +</p> +<p> +"Prom the hills, from the hills they are descending in thousands," cried +half a dozen of the frightened women at once, the rest huddled together +like sheep, moaning in their fear. +</p> +<p> +"Go you all to the farther window," cried Nehushta, in commanding tones. +"Leap down upon the balcony—it is scarce a man's height—follow it to +the end and past the corner where it joins the main wall of the garden. +Run along upon the wall till you find a place where you can descend. +Through the gardens you can easily reach the road by the northern gate. +Fly and save yourselves in the darkness. You will reach the fortress +before dawn if you hasten. You will hasten," she added with something of +disdain in her voice, for before she had half uttered her directions, +the last of the slave-women, mad with terror, disappeared through the +open window, and she could hear them drop, one after the other, in quick +succession upon the marble balcony below. She was alone. +</p> +<p> +But, looking down, she saw at her feet the little Syrian maid, looking +with imploring eyes to her face. +</p> +<p> +"Why do you not go with the rest?" asked Nehushta, stooping down and +laying one hand upon the girl's shoulder. +</p> +<p> +"I have eaten thy bread—shall I leave thee in the hour of death?" asked +the little slave, humbly. +</p> +<p> +"Go, child," replied Nehushta, very kindly. "I have seen thy devotion +and truth—thou must not perish." +</p> +<p> +But the Syrian leaped to her feet, and there was pride in her small +face, as she answered: +</p> +<p> +"I am a bondwoman, but I am a daughter of Israel, even as thou art. +Though all the others leave thee, I will not. It may be I can help +thee." +</p> +<p> +"Thou art a brave child," said Nehushta; and she drew the girl to her +and pressed her kindly. "I must go to Zoroaster—stay thou here, hide +thyself among the curtains—escape by the window, if any come to harm +thee." She turned and went rapidly out between the curtains, as calm and +as pale as death. +</p> +<p> +The din in the palace had partially subsided, and new and strange cries +re-echoed through the vast halls and corridors. An occasional wild +scream—a momentary distant crash as of a door breaking down and +thundering upon the marble pavement; and then again, the long, strange +cries, mingled with a dull, low sound as of a great moaning—all came up +together, and seemed to meet Nehushta as she lifted the curtains and +went out. +</p> +<p> +But the little Syrian maid grasped the Indian knife in her girdle, and +stole stealthily upon her mistress's steps. +</p> +<a name="h2HCH0031" id="h2HCH0031"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> + + + +<h2> + CHAPTER XX. +</h2> +<p> +Nehushta glided like a ghost along the corridors and dimly-lighted +halls. As yet, the confusion seemed to be all in the lower story of the +palace, but the roaring din rose louder every moment—the shrieks of +wounded women with the moaning of wounded men, the clash of swords and +arms, and, occasionally, a quick, loud rattle, as half a dozen arrows +that had missed their mark struck the wall together. +</p> +<p> +Onward she flew, not pausing to listen, lest in a moment more the tide +of fight should be forced up the stairs and overtake her. She shuddered +as she passed the head of the great staircase and heard, as though but a +few steps from her, a wild shriek that died suddenly into a gurgling +death hiss. +</p> +<p> +She passed the treasury, whence the guards had fled, and in a moment +more she was above the staircase that led down to the temple behind the +palace. There was no one there as yet, as far as she could see in the +starlight. The doors were shut, and the massive square building frowned +through the gloom, blacker than its own black shadow. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta paused as she reached the door, and listened. Very faintly +through the thick walls she could hear the sound of the evening chant. +The priests were all within with Zoroaster, unconscious of their danger +and of all that was going on in the palace, singing the hymns of the +sacrifice before the sacred fire,—chanting, as it were, a dirge for +themselves. Nehushta tried the door. The great bronze gates were locked +together, and though she pushed, with her whole strength, they would not +move a hair's breadth. +</p> +<p> +"Press the nail nearest the middle," said a small voice behind her. +Nehushta started and looked round. It was the little Syrian slave, who +had followed her out of the palace, and stood watching her in the dark. +Nehushta put her hand upon the round head of the nail and pressed, as +the slave told her to do. The door opened, turning slowly and +noiselessly upon its hinges. Both women entered; the Syrian girl looked +cautiously back and pushed the heavy bronze back to its place. The +Egyptian artisan who had made the lock, had told one of the queen's +women whom he loved the secret by which it was opened, and the Syrian +had heard it repeated and remembered it. +</p> +<p> +Once inside, Nehushta ran quickly through the corridor between the walls +and rushing into the inner temple, found herself behind the screen and +in a moment more she stood before all the priests and before Zoroaster +himself. But even as she entered, the Syrian slave, who had lingered to +close the gates, heard the rushing of many feet outside, and the yelling +of hoarse voices, mixed with the clang of arms. +</p> +<p> +Solemnly the chant rose around the sacred fire that seemed to burn by +unearthly means upon the black stone altar. Zoroaster stood before it, +his hands lifted in prayer, and his waxen face and snow-white beard +illuminated by the dazzling effulgence. +</p> +<p> +The seventy priests, in even rank, stood around the walls, their hands +raised in like manner as their chief priest's; their voices going up in +a rich chorus, strong and tuneful, in the grand plain-chant. But +Nehushta broke upon their melody, with a sudden cry, as she rushed +before them. +</p> +<p> +"Zoroaster—fly—there is yet time. The enemy are come in +thousands—they are in the palace. There is barely time!" As she cried +to him and to them all, she rushed forward and laid one hand upon his +shoulder. +</p> +<p> +But the high priest turned calmly upon her, his face unmoved, although +all the priests ceased their chanting and gathered about their chief in +sudden fear. As their voices ceased, a low roar was heard from without, +as though the ocean were beating at the gates. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster gently took Nehushta's hand from his shoulder. +</p> +<p> +"Go thou, and save thyself," he said kindly. "I will not go. If it be +the will of the All-Wise that I perish, I will perish before this altar. +Go thou quickly, and save thyself while there is yet time." +</p> +<p> +But Nehushta took his hand in hers, that trembled with the great +emotion, and gazed into his calm eyes as he spoke—her look was very +loving and very sad. +</p> +<p> +"Knowest thou not, Zoroaster, that I would rather die with thee than +live with any other? I swear to thee, by the God of my fathers, I will +not leave thee." Her soft voice trembled—for she was uttering her own +sentence of death. +</p> +<p> +"There is no more time!" cried the voice of the little Syrian maid, as +she came running into the temple. "There is no more time! Ye are all +dead men! Behold, they are breaking down the doors!" +</p> +<p> +As she spoke, the noise of some heavy mass striking against the bronze +gates echoed like thunder through the temple, and at each blow a chorus +of hideous yells rose, wild and long-drawn-out, as though the fiends of +hell were screaming in joy over the souls of the lost. +</p> +<p> +The priests drew together, trembling with fear, brave and devoted though +they were. Some of them would have run towards the door, but the Syrian +maid stood before them. +</p> +<p> +"Ye are dead men and there is no salvation—ye must die like men," said +the little maid, quietly. "Let me go to my mistress." And she pushed +through the crowd of white-robed men, who surged together in their +sudden fear, like a white-crested wave heaved up from the deep by a +fierce wind. +</p> +<p> +Nehushta still held Zoroaster's hand and stared wildly upon the helpless +priests. Her one thought was to save the man she loved, but she saw well +enough that it was too late. Nevertheless she appealed to the priests. +</p> +<p> +"Can none of you save him?" she cried. +</p> +<p> +Foremost in the little crowd was a stern, dark man—the same who had +been the high priest before Zoroaster came, the same who had first +hurled defiance at the intruder, and then had given him his whole +allegiance. He spoke out loudly: +</p> +<p> +"We will save him and thee if we are able," he cried in brave enthusiasm +for his chief. "We will take you between us and open the doors, and it +may be that we can fight our way out—though we are all slain, he may be +saved." He would have laid hold on Zoroaster, and there was not one of +the priests who would not have laid down his life in the gallant +attempt. But Zoroaster gently put him back. +</p> +<p> +"Ye cannot save me, for my hour is come," he said, and a radiance of +unearthly glory stole upon his features, so that he seemed transfigured +and changed before them all. "The foe are as a thousand men against one. +Here we must die like men, and like priests of the Lord before His +altar." +</p> +<p> +The thundering at the doors continued to echo through the whole temple, +almost drowning every other sound as it came; and the yells of the +infuriated besiegers rose louder and louder between. +</p> +<p> +Zoroaster's voice rang out clear and strong and the band of priests +gathered more and more closely about him. Nehushta still held his hand +tightly between her own, and, pale as death, she looked up to him as he +spoke. The little Syrian girl stood, beside her mistress, very quite and +grave. +</p> +<p> +"Hear me, ye priests of the Lord," said Zoroaster. "We are doomed men +and must surely die, though we know not by whose hand we perish. Now, +therefore, I beseech you to think not of this death which we must suffer +in our mortal bodies, but to open your eyes to the things which are not +mortal and which perish not eternally. For man is but a frail and +changing creature as regards his mortality, seeing that his life is not +longer than the lives of other created things, and he is delicate and +sickly and exposed to manifold dangers from his birth. But the soul of +man dieth not, neither is there any taint of death in it, but it liveth +for ever and is made glorious above the stars. For the stars, also, +shall have an end, and the earth—even as our bodies must end here this +night; but our soul shall see the glory of God, the All-Wise, and shall +live." +</p> +<p> +"The sun riseth and the earth is made glad, and it is day; and again he +setteth and it is night, and the whole earth is sorrowful. But though +our sun is gone down and we shall see him rise no more, yet shall we see +a sun which setteth not for ever, and of whose gladness there is no end. +The morning cometh, after which there shall be no evening. The Lord +Ahura Mazda, who made all things, made also these our bodies, and put us +in them to live and move and have being for a space on earth. And now he +demands them again; for he gave them and they are his. Let us give them +readily as a sacrifice, for he who knoweth all things, knoweth also why +it is meet that we should die. And he who hath created all things which +we see and which perish quickly, hath created also the things which we +have not seen, but shall see hereafter;—and the time is at hand when +our eyes shall be opened to the world which endureth, though they be +closed in death upon the things which perish. Raise then a hymn of +thanks with me to the All-Wise God, who is pleased to take us from time +into eternity, from darkness into light, from change to immortality, +from death by death to life undying." +</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Praise we the All-Wise God, who hath made and + created the years and the ages;</p> +<p>Praise him who in the heavens hath sown and hath + scattered the seed of the stars;</p> +<p>Praise him who moves between the three ages that are, + and that have been, and shall be;</p> +<p>Praise him who rides on death, in whose hand are + all power and honour and glory;</p> +<p>Praise him who made what seemeth, the image of + living, the shadow of life;</p> +<p>Praise him who made what is, and hath made it + eternal for ever and ever,</p> +<p>Who made the days and nights, and created the darkness + to follow the light,</p> +<p>Who made the day of life, that should rise up and + lighten the shadow of death."</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> +Zoroaster raised one hand to heaven as he chanted the hymn, and all the +priests sang with him in calm and holy melody, as though death were not +even then with them. But Nehushta still held his other hand fast, and +her own were icy cold. +</p> +<p> +With a crash, as though the elements of the earth were dissolving into +primeval confusion, the great bronze doors gave way, and fell clanging +in—and the yells of the besiegers came to the ears of the priests, as +though the cover had been taken from the caldron of hell, suffering the +din of the damned and their devils to burst forth in demoniac discord. +</p> +<p> +In an instant the temple was filled with a swarm of hideous men, whose +eyes were red with the lust of blood and their hands with slaughter. +Their crooked swords gleamed aloft as they pressed forward in the rush, +and their yells rent the very roof. +</p> +<p> +They had hoped for treasure,—they saw but a handful of white-robed +unarmed men, standing around one taller than the rest; and in the +throng they saw two women. Their rage knew no bounds, and their screams +rose more piercing than ever, as they surrounded the doomed band, and +overwhelmed them, and dyed their misshapen blades in the crimson blood +that flowed so red and strong over the fair white vestures. +</p> +<p> +The priests struggled like brave men to the last. They grasped their +hideous foes by arm and limb and neck, and tossed some of them back upon +their fellows; fighting desperately with their bare hands against the +armed murderers. But the foe were a hundred to one, and the priests fell +in heaps upon each other while the blood flowed out between the feet of +the wild, surging throng, who yelled and slew, and yelled again, as each +priest tottered back and fell, with the death-wound in his breast. +</p> +<p> +At last, one tall wretch, with bloodied eyes and distorted features, +leaped across a heap of slain and laid hold of Nehushta by the hair with +his reeking hand, and strove to drag her out. But Zoroaster's thin arms +went round her like lightning and clasped her to his breast. Then the +little Syrian maid raised her Indian knife, with both hands, high above +her head, and smote the villain with all her might beneath the fifth +rib, that he died in the very act; but ere he had fallen, a sharp blade +fell swiftly, like a crooked flash of light, and severed the small hands +at the wrist; and the brave, true-hearted little maid fell shrieking to +the floor. One shriek—and that was all; for the same sword smote her +again as she lay, and so she died. +</p> +<p> +But Nehushta's head fell forward on the high priest's breast, and her +arms clasped him wildly as his clasped her. +</p> +<p> +"Oh, Zoroaster, my beloved, my beloved! Say not any more that I am +unfaithful, for I have been faithful even unto death, and I shall be +with you beyond the stars for ever!" +</p> +<p> +He pressed her closer still, and in that awful moment, his white face +blazed with the radiant light of the new life that comes by death alone. +</p> +<p> +"Beyond the stars and for ever!" he cried. "In the light of the glory of +God most high!" +</p> +<p> +The keen sword flashed out once more and severed Nehushta's neck, and +found its sheath in her lover's heart; and they fell down dead together, +and the slaughter was done. +</p> +<p> +But on the third day, Darius the king returned; for a messenger met him, +bringing news that his soldiers had slain the rebels in Echatana, though +they were ten to one. And when he saw what things had been done in +Stakhar, and looked upon the body of the wife he had loved, lying +clasped in the arms of his most faithful and beloved servant, he wept +most bitterly. And he rode forth and destroyed utterly the wild riders +of the eastern hills, and left not one child to weep for its father that +was dead. But two thousand of them he brought to Stakhar, and crucified +them all upon the roadside, that their blood might avenge the blood of +those he had loved so well. +</p> +<p> +And he took the bodies of Zoroaster the high priest, and of Nehushta the +queen, and of the little Syrian maid, and he buried them with spices +and fine linen, and in plates of pure gold, together in a tomb over +against the palace, hewn in the rock of the mountain. +</p> + +<h2>THE END. +</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h3>FOOTNOTES</h3> + +<div class="foot"> + + <p><a name="note-1"></a><a href="#noteref-1">1</a> Josephus, <i>Antiquities of the Jews</i>, book x. chap. + xi. 7.</p> + <p><a name="note-2"></a><a href="#noteref-2">2</a> "Thou art to me as the beam of the east rising in + a strange land."—<i>Ossian</i>.</p> + <p><a name="note-3"></a><a href="#noteref-3">3</a> Between five and six hundred English miles. South + American postilions at the present day ride six hundred miles a + week for a bare living.</p> + <p><a name="note-4"></a><a href="#noteref-4">4</a> Herodotus, book iii. chap. lxxii.</p> + <p><a name="note-5"></a><a href="#noteref-5">5</a> The Mazdayashnian Dakhma, or place of death. This + figure represents the ground-plan of the modern Parsi Tower of + Silence.</p> + <p><a name="note-6"></a><a href="#noteref-6">6</a> The term "universal agent" has been used in the + mysticism of ages, to designate that subtle and all-pervading + fluid, of which the phenomena of light, heat, electricity and + vitality are considered to be but the grosser and more palpable + manifestations.</p> + <p><a name="note-7"></a><a href="#noteref-7">7</a> Hermes Trismegistus, <i>Poemandres</i> xi. 2.</p> + <p><a name="note-8"></a><a href="#noteref-8">8</a> Istakhar, called since the conquest of Alexander, + Persepolis.</p> + <p><a name="note-9"></a><a href="#noteref-9">9</a> Probably the oldest hymns in the Avesta language.</p> + <p><a name="note-10"></a><a href="#noteref-10">10</a> Ahura, Jupiter. Tistrya, Sirius.</p> + <p><a name="note-11"></a><a href="#noteref-11">11</a> Partly a translation, partly a close imitation in + a condensed form of Yashna I.</p> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" noshade="noshade" size="4" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARZIO'S CRUCIFIX AND ZOROASTER***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 16720-h.txt or 16720-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/2/16720">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/7/2/16720</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Marion +Crawford + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Marzio's Crucifix and Zoroaster + + +Author: F. Marion Crawford + + + +Release Date: September 18, 2005 [eBook #16720] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARZIO'S CRUCIFIX AND ZOROASTER*** + + +E-text prepared by John Hagerson, Kevin Handy, Graeme Mackreth, and the +Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team +(https://www.pgdp.net/) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 16720-h.htm or 16720-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/2/16720/16720-h/16720-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/2/16720/16720-h.zip) + + + + + +The Novels of F. Marion Crawford +In Twenty-five Volumes, Authorized Edition + +MARZIO'S CRUCIFIX + +and + +ZOROASTER + +by + +F. MARION CRAWFORD + +With Frontispiece + +P.F. Collier & Son +New York + +1887 + + + + + + + +[Illustration: HE MOVED NOT THROUGH THE LONG HOURS OF DAY. +--_Zoroaster_.] + + + +[Illustration] + + + + + +MARZIO'S CRUCIFIX + + + +CHAPTER I + + +"The whole of this modern fabric of existence is a living lie!" cried +Marzio Pandolfi, striking his little hammer upon the heavy table with an +impatient rap. Then he dropped it and turning on his stool rested one +elbow upon the board while he clasped his long, nervous fingers together +and stared hard at his handsome apprentice. Gianbattista Bordogni looked +up from his work without relinquishing his tools, nodded gravely, stared +up at the high window, and then went on hammering gently upon his little +chisel, guiding the point carefully among the delicate arabesques traced +upon the silver. + +"Yes," he said quietly, after a few seconds, "it is all a lie. But what +do you expect, Maestro Marzio? You might as well talk to a stone wall as +preach liberty to these cowards." + +"Nevertheless, there are some--there are half a dozen--" muttered +Marzio, relapsing into sullen discontent and slowly turning the body of +the chalice beneath the cord stretched by the pedal on which he pressed +his foot. Having brought under his hand a round boss which was to become +the head of a cherub under his chisel, he rubbed his fingers over the +smooth silver, mechanically, while he contemplated the red wax model +before him. Then there was silence for a space, broken only by the +quick, irregular striking of the two little hammers upon the heads of +the chisels. + +Maestro Marzio Pandolfi was a skilled workman and an artist. He was one +of the last of those workers in metals who once sent their masterpieces +from Rome to the great cathedrals of the world; one of the last of the +artistic descendants of Caradosso, of Benvenuto Cellini, of Claude +Ballin, and of all their successors; one of those men of rare talent who +unite the imagination of the artist with the executive skill of the +practised workman. They are hard to find nowadays. Of all the twenty +chisellers of various ages who hammered from morning till night in the +rooms outside, one only--Gianbattista Bordogni--had been thought worthy +by his master to share the privacy of the inner studio. The lad had +talent, said Maestro Marzio, and, what was more, the lad had +ideas--ideas about life, about the future of Italy, about the future of +the world's society. Marzio found in him a pupil, an artist and a +follower of his own political creed. + +It was a small room in which they worked together. Plain wooden shelves +lined two of the walls from the floor to the ceiling. The third was +occupied by tables and a door, and in the fourth high grated windows +were situated, from which the clear light fell upon the long bench +before which the two men sat upon high stools. Upon the shelves were +numerous models in red wax, of chalices, monstrances, marvellous ewers +and embossed basins for the ablution of the priests' hands, crucifixes, +crowns, palm and olive branches--in a word, models of all those things +which pertain to the service and decoration of the church, and upon +which it has been the privilege of the silversmith to expend his art and +labour from time immemorial until the present day. There were some few +casts in plaster, but almost all were of that deep red, strong-smelling +wax which is the most fit medium for the temporary expression and study +of very fine and intricate designs. There is something in the very +colour which, to one acquainted with the art, suggests beautiful +fancies. It is the red of the Pompeian walls, and the rich tint seems to +call up the matchless traceries of the ancients. Old chisellers say that +no one can model anything wholly bad in red wax, and there is truth in +the saying. The material is old--the older the better; it has passed +under the hand of the artist again and again; it has taken form, served +for the model of a lasting work, been kneaded together in a lump, been +worked over and over by the boxwood tool. The workman feels that it has +absorbed some of the qualities of the master's genius, and touches it +with the certainty that its stiff substance will yield new forms of +beauty in his fingers, rendering up some of its latent capacity of shape +at each pressure and twist of the deftly-handled instrument. + +At the extremities of the long bench huge iron vices were fixed by +staples that ran into the ground. In one of these was fastened the long +curved tool which serves to beat out the bosses of hollow and +small-necked vessels. Each of the workmen had a pedal beneath his foot +from which a soft cord ascended, passed through the table, and pressed +the round object on which he was working upon a thick leather cushion, +enabling him to hold it tightly in its place, or by lifting his foot to +turn it to a new position. In pots full of sand were stuck hundreds of +tiny chisels, so that the workmen could select at a glance the exact +form of tool needful for the moment. Two or three half balls of heavy +stone stood in leathern collars, their flat surfaces upwards and covered +with a brown composition of pitch and beeswax an inch thick, in which +small pieces of silver were firmly embedded in position to be chiselled. + +The workshop was pervaded by a smell of wax and pitch, mingled with the +curious indefinable odour exhaled from steel tools in constant use, and +supplemented by the fumes of Marzio's pipe. The red bricks in the +portion of the floor where the two men sat were rubbed into hollows, but +the dust had been allowed to accumulate freely in the rest of the room, +and the dark corners were full of cobwebs which had all the air of being +inhabited by spiders of formidable dimensions. + +Marzio Pandolfi, who bent over his work and busily plied his little +hammer during the interval of silence which followed his apprentice's +last remark, was the sole owner and master of the establishment. He was +forty years of age, thin and dark. His black hair was turning grey at +the temples, and though not long, hung forward over his knitted eyebrows +in disorderly locks. He had a strange face. His head, broad enough at +the level of the eyes, rose to a high prominence towards the back, while +his forehead, which projected forward at the heavy brows, sloped +backwards in the direction of the summit. The large black eyes were deep +and hollow, and there were broad rings of dark colour around them, so +that they seemed strangely thrown into relief above the sunken, +colourless cheeks. Marzio's nose was long and pointed, very straight, +and descending so suddenly from the forehead as to make an angle with +the latter the reverse of the one most common in human faces. Seen in +profile, the brows formed the most prominent point, and the line of the +head ran back above, while the line of the nose fell inward from the +perpendicular down to the small curved nostrils. The short black +moustache was thick enough to hide the lips, though deep furrows +surrounded the mouth and terminated in a very prominent but pointed +chin. The whole face expressed unusual qualities and defects; the gifts +of the artist, the tenacity of the workman and the small astuteness of +the plebeian were mingled with an appearance of something which was not +precisely ideality, but which might easily be fanaticism. + +Marzio was tall and very thin. His limbs seemed to move rather by the +impulse of a nervous current within than by any development of normal +force in the muscles, and his long and slender fingers, naturally yellow +and discoloured by the use of tools and the handling of cements, might +have been parts of a machine, for they had none of that look of humanity +which one seeks in the hand, and by which one instinctively judges the +character. He was dressed in a woollen blouse, which hung in odd folds +about his emaciated frame, but which betrayed the roundness of his +shoulders, and the extreme length of his arms. His apprentice, +Gianbattista Bordogni, wore the same costume; but beyond his clothing he +bore no trace of any resemblance to his master. He was not a bad type +of the young Roman of his class at five-and-twenty years of age. His +thick black hair curled all over his head, from his low forehead to the +back of his neck, and his head was of a good shape, full and round, +broad over the brows and high above the orifice of the ear. His eyes +were brown and not over large, but well set, and his nose was slightly +aquiline, while his delicate black moustache showed the pleasant curve +of his even lips. There was colour in his cheeks, too--that rich colour +which dark men sometimes have in their youth. He was of middle height, +strong and compactly built, with large, well-made hands that seemed to +have more power in them, if less subtle skill, than those of Maestro +Marzio. + +"Remember what I told you about the second indentation of the acanthus," +said the elder workman, without looking round; "a light, light hand--no +holes in this work!" + +Gianbattista murmured a sort of assent, which showed that the warning +was not wanted. He was intent upon the delicate operation he was +performing. Again the hammers beat irregularly. + +"The more I think of it," said Marzio after the pause, "the more I am +beside myself. To think that you and I should be nailed to our stools +here, weekdays and feast-days, to finish a piece of work for a +scoundrelly priest--" + +"A cardinal," suggested Gianbattista. + +"Well! What difference is there? He is a priest, I suppose--a creature +who dresses himself up like a pulcinella before his altar--to--" + +"Softly!" ejaculated the young man, looking round to see whether the +door was closed. + +"Why softly?" asked the other angrily, though his annoyance did not seem +to communicate itself to the chisel he held in his hand, and which +continued its work as delicately as though its master were humming a +pastoral. "Why softly? An apoplexy on your softness! The papers speak as +loudly as they please--why should I hold my tongue? A dog-butcher of a +priest!" + +"Well," answered Gianbattista in a meditative tone, as he selected +another chisel, "he has the money to pay for what he orders. If he had +not, we would not work for him, I suppose." + +"If we had the money, you mean," retorted Marzio. "Why the devil should +he have money rather than we? Why don't you answer? Why should he wear +silk stockings--red silk stockings, the animal? Why should he want a +silver ewer and basin to wash his hands at his mass? Why would not an +earthen one do as well, such as I use? Why don't you answer? Eh?" + +"Why should Prince Borghese live in a palace and keep scores of +horses?" inquired the young man calmly. + +"Ay--why should he? Is there any known reason why he should? Am I not a +man as well as he? Are you not a man--you young donkey? I hate to think +that we, who are artists, who can work when we are put to it, have to +slave for such fellows as that--mumbling priests, bloated princes, a +pack of fools who are incapable of an idea! An idea! What am I saying? +Who have not the common intelligence of a cabbage-seller in the street! +And look at the work we give them--the creation of our minds, the labour +of our hands--" + +"They give us their money in return," observed Gianbattista. "The +ancients, whom you are so fond of talking about, used to get their work +done by slaves chained to the bench--" + +"Yes! And it has taken us two thousand years to get to the point we have +reached! Two thousand years--and what is it? Are we any better than +slaves, except that we work better?" + +"I doubt whether we work better." + +"What is the matter with you this morning?" cried Marzio. "Have you been +sneaking into some church on your way here? Pah! You smell of the +sacristy! Has Paolo been here? Oh, to think that a brother of mine +should be a priest! It is not to be believed!" + +"It is the irony of fate. Moreover, he gets you plenty of orders." + +"Yes, and no doubt he takes his percentage on the price. He had a new +cloak last month, and he asked me to make him a pair of silver buckles +for his shoes. Pretty, that--an artist's brother with silver buckles! I +told him to go to the devil, his father, for his ornaments. Why does he +not steal an old pair from the cardinal, his bondmaster? Not good +enough, I suppose--beast!" + +Marzio laid aside his hammer and chisel, and lit the earthen pipe with +the rough wooden stem that lay beside him. Then he examined the +beautiful head of the angel he had been making upon the body of the +ewer. He touched it lovingly, loosed the cord, and lifted the piece from +the pad, turning it towards the light and searching critically for any +defect in the modelling of the little face. He replaced it on the table, +and selecting a very fine-pointed punch, laid down his pipe for a moment +and set about putting the tiny pupils into the eyes. Two touches were +enough. He began smoking again, and contemplated what he had done. It +was the body of a large silver ewer of which Gianbattista was +ornamenting the neck and mouth, which were of a separate piece. Amongst +the intricate arabesques little angels'-heads were embossed, and on one +side a group of cherubs was bearing a "monstrance" with the sacred Host +through silver clouds. A hackneyed subject on church vessels, but which +had taken wonderful beauty under the skilled fingers of the artist, who +sat cursing the priest who was to use it, while expending his best +talents on its perfections. + +"It is not bad," he said rather doubtfully. "Come and look at it, +Tista," he added. The young man left his place and came and bent over +his master's shoulder, examining the piece with admiration. It was +characteristic of Marzio that he asked his apprentice's opinion. He was +an artist, and had the chief peculiarities of artists--namely, +diffidence concerning what he had done, and impatience of the criticism +of others, together with a strong desire to show his work as soon as it +was presentable. + +"It is a masterpiece!" exclaimed Gianbattista. "What detail! I shall +never be able to finish anything like that cherub's face!" + +"Do you think it is as good as the one I made last year, Tista?" + +"Better," returned the young man confidently. "It is the best you have +ever made. I am quite sure of it. You should always work when you are in +a bad humour; you are so successful!" + +"Bad humour! I am always in a bad humour," grumbled Marzio, rising and +walking about the brick floor, while he puffed clouds of acrid smoke +from his coarse pipe. "There is enough in this world to keep a man in a +bad humour all his life." + +"I might say that," answered Gianbattista, turning round on his stool +and watching his master's angular movements as he rapidly paced the +room. "I might abuse fate--but you! You are rich, married, a father, a +great artist!" + +"What stuff!" interrupted Marzio, standing still with his long legs +apart, and folding his arms as he spoke through his teeth, between which +he still held his pipe. "Rich? Yes--able to have a good coat for +feast-days, meat when I want it, and my brother's company when I don't +want it--for a luxury, you know! Able to take my wife to Frascati on the +last Thursday of October as a great holiday. My wife, too! A creature of +beads and saints and little books with crosses on them--who would leer +at a friar through the grating of a confessional, and who makes the +house hideous with her howling if I choose to eat a bit of pork on a +Friday! A good wife indeed! A jewel of a wife, and an apoplexy on all +such jewels! A nice wife, who has a face like a head from a tombstone in +the Campo Varano for her husband, and who has brought up her daughter to +believe that her father is condemned to everlasting flames because he +hates cod-fish--salt cod-fish soaked in water! A wife who sticks images +in the lining of my hat to convert me, and sprinkles holy water on me +Then she thinks I am asleep, but I caught her at that the other night--" + +"Indeed, they say the devil does not like holy water," remarked +Gianbattista, laughing. + +"And you want to many my daughter, you young fool," continued Marzio, +not heeding the interruption. "You do. I will tell you what she is like. +My daughter--yes!--she has fine eyes, but she has the tongue of the--" + +"Of her father," suggested Gianbattista, suddenly frowning. + +"Yes--of her father, without her father's sense," cried Marzio angrily. +"With her eyes, those fine eyes!--those eyes!--you want to marry her. If +you wish to take her away, you may, and good riddance. I want no +daughter; there are too many women in the world already. They and the +priests do all the harm between them, because the priests know how to +think too well, and women never think at all. I wish you good luck of +your marriage and of your wife. If you were my son you would never have +thought of getting married. The mere idea of it made you send your +chisel through a cherub's eye last week and cost an hoax's time for +repairing. Is that the way to look at the great question of humanity? +Ah! if I were only a deputy in the Chambers, I would teach you the +philosophy of all that rubbish!" + +"I thought you said the other day that you would not have any deputies +at all," observed the apprentice, playing with his hammer. + +"Such as these are--no! A few of them I would put into the acid bath, as +I would a casting, to clean them before chiselling them down. They might +be good for something then. You must begin by knocking down, boy, if you +want to build up. You must knock down everything, raze the existing +system to the ground, and upon the place where it stood shall rise the +mighty temple of immortal liberty." + +"And who will buy your chalices and monstrances under the new order of +things?" inquired Gianbattista coldly. + +"The foreign market," returned Marzio. "Italy shall be herself again, as +she was in the days of Michael Angelo; of Leonardo, who died in the arms +of a king; of Cellini, who shot a prince from the walls of Saint Angelo. +Italy shall be great, shall monopolise the trade, the art, the greatness +of all creation!" + +"A lucrative monopoly!" exclaimed the young man. + +"Monopolies! There shall be no monopolies! The free artisan shall sell +what he can make and buy what he pleases. The priests shall be turned +out in chain gangs and build roads for our convenience, and the +superfluous females shall all be deported to the glorious colony of +Massowah! If I could but be absolute master of this country for a week I +could do much." + +"I have no doubt of it," answered Gianbattista, with a quiet smile. + +"I should think not," assented Marzio proudly; then catching sight of +the expression on the young man's face, he turned sharply upon him. "You +are mocking me, you good-for-nothing!" he cried angrily. "You are +laughing at me, at your master, you villain you wretch, you sickly +hound, you priest-ridden worm! It is intolerable! It is the first time +you have ever dared; do you think I am going to allow you to think for +yourself after all the pains I have taken to educate you, to teach you +my art, you ungrateful reptile?" + +"If you were not such a great artist I would have left you long ago," +answered the apprentice. "Besides, I believe in your principles. It is +your expression of them that makes me laugh now and then; I think you go +too far sometimes!" + +"As if any one had ever gone far enough" exclaimed Marzio, somewhat +pacified, for his moods were very quick. "Since there are still men who +are richer than others, it is a sign that we have not gone to the +end--to the great end in which we believe. I am sure you believe in it +too, Tista, don't you?" + +"Oh yes--in the end--certainly. Do not let us quarrel about the means, +Maestro Marzio. I must do another leaf before dinner." + +"I will get in another cherub's nose," said his master, preparing to +relight his pipe for a whiff before going to work again. "Body of a dog, +these priests!" he grumbled, as he attacked the next angel on the ewer +with matchless dexterity and steadiness. A long pause followed the +animated discourse of the chiseller. Both men were intent upon their +work, alternately holding their breath for the delicate strokes, and +breathing more freely as the chisel reached the end of each tiny curve. + +"I think you said a little while ago that I might marry Lucia," observed +Gianbattista, without looking up, "that is, if I would take her away!" + +"And if you take her away," retorted the other, "where will you get +bread?" + +"Where I get it now. I could live somewhere else and come here to work; +it seems simple enough." + +"It seems simple, but it is not," replied Marzio. "Perhaps you could try +and get Paolo's commissions away from me, and then set up a studio for +yourself; but I doubt whether you could succeed. I am not old yet, nor +blind, nor shaky, thank God!" + +"I did not catch the last words," said Gianbattista, hiding his smile +over his work. + +"I said I was not old, nor broken down yet, thanks to my strength," +growled the chiseller; "you will not steal my commissions yet awhile. +What is the matter with you to-day? You find fault with half I say, and +the other half you do not hear at all. You seem to have lost your head, +Tista. Be steady over those acanthus leaves; everybody thinks an +acanthus leaf is the easiest thing in the world, whereas it is one of +the most difficult before you get to figures. Most chisellers seem to +copy their acanthus leaves from the cabbage in their soup. They work as +though they had never seen the plant growing. When the Greeks began to +carve Corinthian capitals, they must have worked from real leaves, as I +taught you to model when you were a boy. Few things are harder than a +good acanthus leaf." + +"I should think women could do the delicate part of our work very well," +said the apprentice, returning to the subject from which Marzio was +evidently trying to lead him. "Lucia has such very clever fingers." + +"Idiot!" muttered Marzio between his teeth, not deigning to make any +further answer. + +The distant boom of a gun broke upon the silence that followed, and +immediately the bells of all the neighbouring churches rang out in quick +succession. It was midday. + +"I did not expect to finish that nose," said Marzio, rising from his +stool. He was a punctual man, who exacted punctuality in others, and in +spite of his thin frame and nervous ways, he loved his dinner. In five +minutes all the men had left the workshop, and Marzio and his apprentice +stood in the street, the former locking the heavy door with a lettered +padlock, while the younger man sniffed the fresh spring air that blew +from the west out of the square of San Carlo a Catenari down the Via dei +Falegnami in which the establishment of the silver-chiseller was +situated. + +As Marzio fumbled with the fastenings of the door, two women came up and +stopped. Marzio had his back turned, and Gianbattista touched his hat in +silence. The younger of the two was a stout, black-haired woman of +eight-and-thirty years, dressed in a costume of dark green cloth, which +fitted very closely to her exuberantly-developed bust, and was somewhat +too elaborately trimmed with imitation of jet and black ribands. A high +bonnet, decorated with a bunch of purple glass grapes and dark green +leaves, surmounted the lady's massive head, and though carefully put on +and neatly tied, seemed too small for the wearer. Her ears were adorned +by long gold earrings, in each of which were three large garnets, and +these trinkets dangled outside and over the riband of the bonnet, which +passed under her chin. In her large hands, covered with tight black +gloves, she carried a dark red parasol and a somewhat shabby little +black leather bag with steel fastenings. The stout lady's face was of +the type common among the Roman women of the lower class--very broad and +heavy, of a creamy white complexion, the upper lip shaded by a dark +fringe of down, and the deep sleepy eyes surmounted by heavy straight +eyebrows. Her hair, brought forward from under her bonnet, made smooth +waves upon her low forehead and reappeared in thick coils at the back of +her neck. Her nose was relatively small, but too thick and broad at the +nostrils, although it departed but little from the straight line of the +classic model. Altogether the Signora Pandolfi, christened Maria Luisa, +and wife to Marzio the silver-chiseller, was a portly and +pompous-looking person, who wore an air of knowing her position, and of +being sure to maintain it. Nevertheless, there was a kindly expression +in her fat face, and if her eyes looked sleepy they did not look +dishonest. + +Signora Pandolfi's companion was her old maid-of-all-work, Assunta, +commonly called Suntarella, without whom she rarely stirred abroad--a +little old woman, in neat but dingy-coloured garments, with a grey +woollen shawl drawn over her head like a cowl, instead of a bonnet. + +Marzio finished fastening the door, and then turned round. On seeing his +wife he remained silent for a moment, looking at her with an expression +of dissatisfied inquiry. He had not expected her. + +"Well?" he ejaculated at last. + +"It is dinner time," remarked the stout lady. + +"Yes, I heard the gun," answered Marzio drily. "It is the same as if you +had told me," he added ironically, as he turned and led the way across +the street. + +"A pretty answer!" exclaimed Maria Luisa, tossing her large head as she +followed her lord and master to the door of their house. Meanwhile +Assunta, the old servant, glanced at Gianbattista, rolled up her eyes +with an air of resignation, and spread out her withered hands for a +moment with a gesture of despair, instantly drawing them in again +beneath the folds of her grey woollen shawl. + +"Gadding!" muttered Marzio, as he entered the narrow door from which the +dark steps led abruptly upwards. "Gadding--always gadding! And who minds +the soup-kettle when you are gadding, I should like to know? The cat, I +suppose! Oh, these women and their priests! These priests and these +women!" + +"Lucia is minding the soup-kettle," gasped Maria Luisa, as she puffed up +stairs behind her thin and active husband. + +"Lucia!" cried Marzio angrily, a flight of steps higher. "I suppose you +will bring her up to be woman of all work? Well, she could earn her +living then, which is more than you do! After all, it is better to mind +a soup-kettle than to thump a piano and to squeal so that I can hear her +in the shop opposite, and it is better than hanging about the church all +the morning, or listening to Paolo's drivelling talk. By all means keep +her in the kitchen." + +It was hard to say whether Signora Pandolfi was puffing or sighing as +she paused for breath upon the landing, but there was probably something +of both in the labour of her lungs. She was used to Marzio. She had +lived with him for twenty years, and she knew his moods and his ways, +and detected the coming storm from afar. Unfortunately, or perhaps +fortunately, for her, there was little variety in the sequence of his +ideas. She was accustomed to his beginning at the grumbling stage before +dinner, and proceeding by a crescendo movement to the pitch of rage, +which was rarely reached until he had finished his meal, when he +generally seized his hat and dragged Gianbattista away with him, +declaring loudly that women were not fit for human society. The daily +excitement of this comedy had long lost its power to elicit anything +more than a sigh from the stout Maria Luisa, who generally bore Marzio's +unreasonable anger with considerable equanimity, waiting for his +departure to eat her boiled beef and salad in peace with Lucia, while +old Assunta sat by the table with the cat in her lap, putting in a word +of commiseration alternately with a word of gossip about the lodgers on +the other side of the landing. The latter were a young and happy pair: +the husband, a chorus singer at the Apollo, who worked at glove cleaning +during the day time; his wife, a sempstress, who did repairs upon the +costumes of the theatre. Their apartments consisted of two rooms and a +kitchen, while Marzio and his family occupied the rest of the floor, and +entered their lodging by the opposite door. + +Maria Luisa envied the couple in her sleepy fashion. Her husband was +indeed comparatively rich, and though economical in his domestic +arrangements, he had money in the bank enough to keep him comfortably +for the rest of his days. His violence did not extend beyond words and +black looks, and he was not miserly about a few francs for dress, or a +dinner at the Falcone two or three times a year. But in the matter of +domestic peace his conduct left much to be desired. He was a sober man, +but his hours were irregular, for he attended the meetings of a certain +club which Maria Luisa held in abhorrence, and brought back opinions +which made her cross herself with her fat fingers, shuddering at the +things he said. As for Gianbattista Bordogni, who lived with them, and +consequently received most of his wages in the shape of board and +lodging, he loved Lucia Pandolfi, his master's daughter, and though he +shared Marzio's opinions, he held his tongue in the house. He understood +how necessary to him the mother's sympathy must be, and, with subtle +intelligence, he knew how to create a contrast between himself and his +master by being reticent at the right moment. + +Lucia opened the door in answer to the bell her father had rung, and +stood aside in the narrow way to let members of the household pass by, +one by one. Lucia was seventeen years old, and probably resembled her +mother as the latter had looked at the same age. She was slight, and +tall, and dark, with a quantity of glossy black hair coiled behind her +head. Her black eyes had not yet acquired that sleepy look which +advancing life and stoutness had put into her mother's, as a sort of +sign of the difficulty of quick motion. Her figure was lithe, though she +was not a very active girl, and one might have predicted that at forty +she, too, would pay her debt to time in pounds of flesh. There are thin +people who look as though they could never grow stout, and there are +others whose leisurely motion and deliberate step foretells increase of +weight. But Gianbattista had not studied these matters of physiological +horoscopy. It sufficed him that Lucia Pandolfi was at present a very +pretty girl, even beautiful, according to some standards. Her thick +hair, low forehead, straight classic features, and severe mouth +fascinated the handsome apprentice, and the intimacy which had developed +between the two during the years of his residence under Marzio's roof, +from the time when Lucia was a little girl to the present day, had +rendered the transition from friendship to love almost imperceptible to +them both. Gianbattista was the last of the party to enter the lodging, +and as he paused to shut the door, Lucia was still lingering at the +threshold. + +"Hist! They will see!" she protested under her breath. + +"What do I care!" whispered the apprentice, as he kissed her cheek in +the dusky passage. Then they followed the rest. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +That evening Marzio finished the last cherub's head on the ewer before +he left the shop. He had sent Gianbattista home, and had dismissed the +men who were working at a huge gilded grating ordered by a Roman prince +for a church he was decorating. Marzio worked on by the light of a +strong lamp until the features were all finished and he had indicated +the pupils of the eyes with the fine-pointed punch. Then he sat some +time at his bench with the beautiful piece of workmanship under his +fingers, looking hard at it and straining his eyes to find imperfections +that did not exist. At last he laid it down tenderly upon the stuffed +leather pad and stared at the green shade of the lamp, deep in thought. + +The man's nature was in eternal conflict with itself, and he felt as +though he were the battle-ground of forces he could neither understand +nor control. A true artist in feeling, in the profound cultivation of +his tastes, in the laborious patience with which he executed his +designs, there was an element in his character and mind which was in +direct contradiction with the essence of what art is. If art can be said +to depend upon anything except itself, that something is religion. The +arts began in religious surroundings, in treating religious subjects, +and the history of the world from the time of the early Egyptians has +shown that where genius has lost faith in the supernatural, its efforts +to produce great works of lasting beauty in the sensual and material +atmosphere of another century have produced comparatively insignificant +results. The science of silver-chiselling began, so far as this age is +concerned, in the church. The tastes of Francis the First directed the +attention of the masters of the art to the making of ornaments for his +mistresses, and for a time the men who had made chalices for the Vatican +succeeded in making jewelry for Madame de Chateaubriand, Madame +d'Etampes, and Diane de Poitiers. But the art itself remained in the +church, and the marvels of _repousse_ gold and silver to be seen in the +church of Notre Dame des Victoires, the masterpieces of Ossani of Rome, +could not have been produced by any goldsmith who made jewelry for a +living. + +Marzio Pandolfi knew all this better than any one, and he could no more +have separated himself from his passion for making chalices and +crucifixes than he could have changed the height of his stature or the +colour of his eyes. But at the same time he hated the church, the +priests, and every one who was to use the beautiful things over which he +spent so much time and labour. Had he been indifferent, a careless, +good-natured sceptic, he would have been a bad artist. As it was, the +very violence of his hatred lent spirit and vigour to his eye and hand. +He was willing to work upon the figure, perfecting every detail of +expression, until he fancied he could feel and see the silver limbs of +the dead Christ suffering upon the cross under the diabolical skill of +his long fingers. The monstrous horror of the thought made him work +marvels, and the fancied realisation of an idea that would startle even +a hardened unbeliever, lent a feverish impulse to this strange man's +genius. + +As for the angels on the chalices, he did not hate them; on the +contrary, he saw in them the reflection of those vague images of +loveliness and innocence which haunt every artist's soul at times, and +the mere manual skill necessary to produce expression in things so +minute, fascinated a mind accustomed to cope with difficulties, and so +inured to them as almost to love them. + +Nevertheless, when a man is constantly a prey to strong emotions, his +nature cannot long remain unchanged. The conviction had been growing in +Marzio's mind that it was his duty, for the sake of consistency, to +abandon his trade. The thought saddened him, but the conclusion seemed +inevitable. It was absurd, he repeated to himself, that one who hated +the priests should work for them. Marzio was a fanatic in his theories, +but he had something of the artist's simplicity in his idea of the way +they should be carried out. He would have thought it no harm to kill a +priest, but it seemed to him contemptible to receive a priest's money +for providing the church with vessels which were to serve in a worship +he despised. + +Moreover, he was not poor. Indeed, he was richer than any one knew, and +the large sums paid for his matchless work went straight from the +workshop to the bank, while Marzio continued to live in the simple +lodgings to which he had first brought home his wife, eighteen years +before, when he was but a young partner in the establishment he now +owned. As he sat at the bench, looking from his silver ewer to the green +lampshade, he was asking himself whether he should not give up this life +of working for people he hated and launch into that larger work of +political agitation, for which he fancied himself so well fitted. He +looked forward into an imaginary future, and saw himself declaiming in +the Chambers against all that existed, rousing the passions of a +multitude to acts of destruction--of justice, as he called it in his +thoughts--and leading a vast army of angry men up the steps of the +Capitol to proclaim himself the champion of the rights of man against +the rights of kings. His eyelids contracted and the concentrated light +of his eyes was reduced to two tiny bright specks in the midst of the +pupils; his nervous hand went out and the fingers clutched the jaws of +the iron vice beside him as he would have wished to grapple with the +jaws of the beast oppression, which in his dreams seemed ever tormenting +the poor world in which he lived. + +There was something lacking in his face, even in that moment of secret +rage as he sat alone in his workroom before the lamp. There was the +frenzy of the fanatic, the exaltation of the dreamer, clearly expressed +upon his features, but there was something wanting. There was everything +there except the force to accomplish, the initiative which oversteps the +bank of words, threats, and angry thoughts, and plunges boldly into the +stream, ready to sacrifice itself to lead others. The look of power, of +stern determination, which is never absent from the faces of men who +change their times, was not visible in the thin dark countenance of the +silver-chiseller. Marzio was destined never to rise above the common +howling mob which he aspired to lead. + +This fact asserted itself outwardly as he sat there. After a few minutes +the features relaxed, a smile that was almost weak--the smile that shows +that a man lacks absolute confidence--passed quickly over his face, the +light in his eyes went out, and he rose from his stool with a short, +dissatisfied sigh, which was repeated once or twice as he put away his +work and arranged his tools. He made the rounds of the workshop, looked +to the fastenings of the windows, lighted a taper, and then extinguished +the lamp. He threw a loose overcoat over his shoulders without passing +his arms through the sleeves, and went out into the street. Glancing up +at the windows of his house opposite, he saw that the lights were +burning brightly, and he guessed that his wife and daughter were waiting +for him before sitting down to supper. + +"Let them wait," he muttered with a surly grin, as he put out the taper +and went down the street in the opposite direction. + +He turned the street corner by the dark Palazzo Antici Mattei, and +threaded the narrow streets towards the Pantheon and the Piazza Sant' +Eustachio. The weather had changed, and the damp south-east wind was +blowing fiercely behind him. The pavement was wet and slippery with the +strange thin coating of greasy mud which sometimes appears suddenly in +Rome even when it has not rained. The insufficient gas lamps flickered +in the wind as though they would go out, and the few pedestrians who +hurried along clung closely to the wall as though it offered them some +protection from the moist scirocco. The great doors of the palaces were +most of them closed, but here and there a little red light announced a +wine-shop, and as Marzio passed by he could see through the dirty panes +of glass dark figures sitting in a murky atmosphere over bottles of +coarse wine. The streets were foul with the nauseous smell of decaying +vegetables and damp walls which the south-east wind brings out of the +older parts of Rome, and while few voices were heard in the thick air, +the clatter of horses' hoofs on the wet stones rattled loudly from the +thoroughfares which lead to the theatres. It was a dismal night, but +Marzio Pandolfi felt that his temper was in tune with the weather as he +tramped along towards the Pantheon. + +The streets widened as he neared his destination, and he drew his +overcoat more closely about his neck. Presently he reached a small door +close to Sant' Eustachio, one of the several entrances to the ancient +Falcone, an inn which has existed for centuries upon the same spot, in +the same house, and which affords a rather singular variety of +accommodation. Down stairs, upon the square, is a modern restaurant with +plate-glass windows, marble floor, Vienna cane chairs, and a general +appearance of luxury. A flight of steps leads to an upper story, where +there are numerous rooms of every shape and dimension, furnished with +old-fashioned Italian simplicity, though with considerable cleanliness. +Thither resort the large companies of regular guests who have eaten +their meals there during most of their lives. But there is much more +room in the house than appears. The vast kitchen on the ground floor +terminates in a large space, heavily vaulted and lighted by oil lamps, +where rougher tables are set and spread, and where you may see the +well-to-do wine-carter eating his supper after his journey across the +Campagna, in company with some of his city acquaintances of a similar +class. In dark corners huge wine-casks present their round dusty faces +to the doubtful light, the smell of the kitchen pervades everything, +tempered by the smell of wine from the neighbouring cellars; the floor +is of rough stone worn by generations of cooks, potboys, and guests. +Beyond this again a short flight of steps leads to a narrow doorway, +passing through which one enters the last and most retired chamber of +the huge inn. Here there is barely room for a dozen persons, and when +all the places are full the bottles and dishes are passed from the door +by the guests themselves over each other's heads, for there is no room +to move about in the narrow space. The walls are whitewashed and the +tables are as plain as the chairs, but the food and drink that are +consumed there are the best that the house affords, and the society, +from the point of view of Marzio Pandolfi and his friends, is of the +most agreeable. + +The chiseller took his favourite seat in the corner furthest from the +window. Two or three men of widely different types were already at the +table, and Marzio exchanged a friendly nod with each. One was a florid +man of large proportions, dressed in the height of the fashion and with +scrupulous neatness. He was a jeweller. Another, a lawyer with a keen +and anxious face, wore a tightly-buttoned frock coat and a black tie. +Immense starched cuffs covered his bony hands and part of his fingers. +He was supping on a salad, into which he from time to time poured an +additional dose of vinegar. A third man, with a round hat on one side of +his head, and who wore a very light-coloured overcoat, displaying a +purple scarf with a showy pin at the neck, held a newspaper in one hand +and a fork in the other, with which he slowly ate mouthfuls of a ragout +of wild boar. He was a journalist on the staff of an advanced radical +paper. + +"Halloa, Sor Marzio!" cried this last guest, suddenly looking up from +the sheet he was reading, "here is news of your brother." + +"What?" asked Marzio briefly, but as though the matter were utterly +indifferent to him. "Has he killed anybody, the assassin?" The +journalist laughed hoarsely at the jest. + +"Not so bad as that," he answered. "He is getting advancement. They are +going to make him a canon of Santa Maria Maggiore. It is in the +_Osservatore Romano_ of this evening." + +"He is good for nothing else," growled Marzio. "It is just like him not +to have told me anything about it." + +"With the sympathy which exists between you, I am surprised," said the +journalist. "After all, you might convert him, and then he would be +useful. He will be an archdeacon next, and then a bishop--who +knows?--perhaps a cardinal!" + +"You might as well talk of converting the horses on Monte Cavallo as of +making Paolo change his mind," replied Pandolfi, beginning to sip the +white wine he had ordered. "You don't know him--he is an angel, my +brother! Oh, quite an angel! I wish somebody would send him to heaven, +where he is so anxious to be!" + +"Look out, Marzio!" exclaimed the lawyer, glancing from the vinegar +cruet towards the door and then at his friend. + +"No such luck," returned the chiseller. "Nothing ever happens to those +black-birds. When we get as far as hanging them, my dear brother will +happen to be in Paris instead of in Rome. You might as well try to catch +a street cat by calling to it _micio, micio_! as try and catch a priest. +You may as well expect to kill a mule by kicking it as one of those +animals, Burn the Vatican over their heads and think you have destroyed +them like a wasps' nest, they will write you a letter from Berlin the +next day saying that they are alive and well, and that Prince Bismarck +protests against your proceedings." + +"Bravo, Sor Marzio!" cried the journalist. "I will put that in the paper +to-morrow--it is a fine fulmination. You always refresh my ideas--why +will you not write an article for us in that strain? I will publish it +as coming from a priest who has given up his orders, married, and opened +a wine-shop in Naples. What an effect! Magnificent! Do go on!" + +Marzio did not need a second invitation to proceed upon his favourite +topic. He was soon launched, and as the little room filled, his pale and +sunken cheeks grew red with excitement, his tongue was unloosed, and he +poured out a continuous stream of blasphemous ribaldry such as would +have shocked the ears of a revolutionist of the year '89 or of a +_petroleuse_ of the nineteenth century. It seemed as though the spring +once opened would never dry. His eyes flashed, his fingers writhed +convulsively on the table, and his voice rang out, ironical and cutting, +with strange intonations that roused strange feelings in his hearers. It +was the old subject, but he found something new to say upon it at each +meeting with his friends, and they wondered where he got the imagination +to construct his telling phrases and specious, virulent arguments. + +We have all wondered at such men. They are the outcome of this age and +of no previous time, as it is also to be hoped that their like may not +arise hereafter. They are found everywhere, these agitators, with their +excited faces, their nervous utterances, and their furious hatred of all +that is. They find their way into the parliaments of the world, into the +dining-rooms of the rich, into the wine-shops of the working men, into +the press even, and some of their works are published by great houses +and read by great ladies, if not by great men. Suddenly, when we least +expect it, a flaming advertisement announces a fiery tirade against all +that the great mass of mankind hold in honour, if not in reverence. +Curiosity drives thousands to read what is an insult to humanity, and +even though the many are disgusted, some few are found to admire a +rhetoric which exalts their own ignorance to the right of judging God. +And still the few increase and grow to be a root and send out shoots and +creepers like an evil plant, so that grave men say among themselves that +if there is to be a universal war in our times or hereafter it will be +fought by Christians of all denominations defending themselves against +those who are not Christians. + +Marzio sat long at his table, and his modest pint of wine was enough to +moisten his throat throughout the time during which he held forth. When +the liquor was finished he rose, took down his overcoat from the peg on +which it hung, pushed his soft hat over his eyes, and with a sort of +triumphant wave of the hand, saluted his friends and left the room. He +was a perfectly sober man, and no power would have induced him to +overstep the narrow limit he allowed to his taste. Indeed, he did not +care for wine itself, and still less for any excitement it produced in +his brain. He ordered his half-litre as a matter of respect for the +house, as he called it, and it served to wet his throat while he was +talking. Water would have done as well. Consumed by the intensity of his +hatred for the things he attacked, he needed no stimulant to increase +his exaltation. + +When he was gone, there was silence in the room for some few minutes. +Then the journalist burst into a loud laugh. + +"If we only had half a dozen fellows like that in the Chambers, all +talking at once!" he cried. + +"They would be kicked into the middle of Montecitorio in a quarter of an +hour," answered the thin voice of the lawyer. "Our friend Marzio is +slightly mad, but he is a good fellow in theory. In practice that sort +of thing must be dropped into public life a little at a time, as one +drops vinegar into a salad, on each leaf. If you don't, all the vinegar +goes to the bottom together, and smells horribly sour." + +While Marzio was holding forth to his friends, the family circle in the +Via dei Falegnami was enjoying a very pleasant evening in his absence. +The Signora Pandolfi presided at supper in a costume which lacked +elegance, but ensured comfort--the traditional skirt and white cotton +jacket of the Italian housewife. Lucia wore the same kind of dress, but +with less direful effects upon her appearance. Gianbattista, as usual +after working hours, was arrayed in clothes of fashionable cut, aiming +at a distant imitation of the imaginary but traditional English tourist. +A murderous collar supported his round young chin, and a very +stiffly-constructed pasteboard-lined tie was adorned by an exquisite +silver pin of his own workmanship--the only artistic thing about him. + +Besides these members of the family, there was a fourth person at +supper, the person whom, of all others, Marzio detested, Paolo Pandolfi, +his brother the priest, commonly called Don Paolo. He deserves a word of +description, for there was in his face a fleeting resemblance to Marzio, +which might easily have led a stranger to believe that there was a +similarity between their characters. Tall, like his brother, the priest +was a little less thin, and evidently far less nervous. The expression +of his face was thoughtful, and the deep, heavily-ringed eyes were like +Marzio's, but the forehead was broader, and the breadth ascended higher +in the skull, which was clearly defined by the short, closely-cropped +hair and the smooth tonsure at the back. The nose was larger and of more +noble shape, and Paolo's complexion was less yellow than his brother's; +the features were not surrounded by furrows or lines, and the leanness +of the priest's face threw them into relief. The clean shaven upper lip +showed a kind and quiet mouth, which smiled easily and betrayed a sense +of humour, but was entirely free from any suggestion of cruelty. Don +Paolo was scrupulous of his appearance, and his cassock and mantle were +carefully brushed, and his white collar was immaculately clean. His +hands were of the student type--white, square at the tips, lean, and +somewhat knotty. + +Marzio, in his ill-humour, had no doubt flattered himself that his +family would wait for him for supper. But his family had studied him and +knew his ways. When he was not punctual, he seldom came at all, and a +quarter of an hour was considered sufficient to decide the matter. + +"What are we waiting to do?" exclaimed Maria Luisa, in the odd Italian +idiom. "Marzio is in his humours--he must have gone to his friends. Ah! +those friends of his!" she sighed. "Let us sit down to supper," she +added; and, from her tone, the idea of supper seemed to console her for +her husband's absence. + +"Perhaps he guessed that I was coming," remarked Don Paolo, with a +smile. "In that case he will be a little nervous with me when he comes +back. With your leave, Maria Luisa," he added, by way of announcing that +he would say grace. He gave the short Latin benediction, during which +Gianbattista never looked away from Lucia's face. The boy fancied she +was never so beautiful as when she stood with her hands folded and her +eyes cast down. + +"Marzio does not know what I have come for," began Don Paolo again, as +they all sat down to the square table in the little room. "If he knew, +perhaps he might have been here--though perhaps he would not care very +much after all. You all ask what it is? Yes; I will tell you. His +Eminence has obtained for me the canonry that was vacant at Santa Maria +Maggiore--" + +At this announcement everybody sprang up and embraced Don Paolo, and +overwhelmed him with congratulations, reproaching him at the same time +for having kept the news so long to himself. + +"Of course, I shall continue to work with the Cardinal," said the +priest, when the family gave him time to speak. "But it is a great +honour. I have other news for Marzio--" + +"I imagine that you did not count upon the canonry as a means of +pleasing him," remarked the Signora, Pandolfi, with a smile. + +"No, indeed," laughed Lucia. "Poor papa--he would rather see you sent to +be a curate in Civita Lavinia!" + +"Dear me! I fear so," answered Don Paolo, with a shade of sadness. "But +I have a commission for him. The Cardinal has ordered another crucifix, +which he desires should be Marzio's masterpiece--silver, of course, and +large. It must be altogether the finest thing he has ever made, when it +is finished." + +"I daresay he will be very much pleased," said Maria Luisa, smiling +comfortably. + +"I wish he could make the figure solid, cast and chiselled, instead of +_repousse_," remarked Gianbattista, whose powerful hands craved heavy +work by instinct. + +"It would be a pity to waste so much silver; and besides, the effects +are never so light," said Lucia, who, like most artists' daughters, knew +something of her father's work. + +"What is a little silver, more or less, to the Cardinal?" asked +Gianbattista, with a little scorn; but as he met the priest's eye his +expression instantly became grave. + +The apprentice was very young; he was not beyond that age at which, to +certain natures, it seems a fine thing to be numbered among such men as +Marzio's friends. But at the same time he was not old enough, nor +independent enough, to exhibit his feelings on all occasions. Don Paolo +exercised a dominant influence in the Pandolfi household. He had the +advantage of being calm, grave, and thoroughly in earnest, not easily +ruffled nor roused to anger, any more than he was easily hurt. By +character sensitive, he bore all small attacks upon himself with the +equanimity of a man who believes his cause to be above the need of +defence against little enemies. The result was that he dominated his +brother's family, and even Marzio himself was not free from a certain +subjection which he felt, and which was one of the most bitter elements +in his existence. Don Paolo imposed respect by his quiet dignity, while +Marzio asserted himself by speaking loudly and working himself +voluntarily into a state of half-assumed anger. In the contest between +quiet force and noisy self-assertion the issue is never doubtful. Marzio +lacked real power, and he felt it. He could command attention among the +circle of his associates who already sympathised with his views, but in +the presence of Paolo he was conscious of struggling against a superior +and incomprehensible obstacle, against the cool and unresentful +disapprobation of a man stronger than himself. It was many years since +he had ventured to talk before his brother as he talked when he was +alone with Gianbattista, and the latter saw the change that came over +his master's manner before the priest, and guessed that Marzio was +morally afraid. The somewhat scornful allusion to the Cardinal's +supposed wealth certainly did not constitute an attack upon Don Paolo, +but Gianbattista nevertheless felt that he had said something rather +foolish, and made haste to ignore his words. The influence could not be +escaped. + +It was this subtle power that Marzio resented, for he saw that it was +exerted continually, both upon himself and the members of his household. +The chiseller acknowledged to himself that in a great emergency his +wife, his daughter, and even Gianbattista Bordogni, would most likely +follow the advice of Don Paolo, in spite of his own protests and +arguments to the contrary. He fancied that he himself alone was a free +agent. He doubted Gianbattista, and began to think that the boy's +character would turn out a failure. This was the reason why he no longer +encouraged the idea of a marriage between his daughter and his +apprentice, a scheme which, somewhat earlier, had been freely discussed. +It had seemed an admirable arrangement. The young man promised to turn +out a freethinker after Marzio's own heart, and showed a talent for his +profession which left nothing to be desired. Some one must be ready to +take Marzio's place in the direction of the establishment, and no one +could be better fitted to undertake the task than Gianbattista. Lucia +would inherit her father's money as the capital for the business, and +her husband should inherit the workshop with all the stock-in-trade. +Latterly, however, Marzio had changed his mind, and the idea no longer +seemed so satisfactory to him as at first. Gianbattista was evidently +falling under the influence of Don Paolo, and that was a sufficient +reason for breaking off the match. Marzio hardly realised that as far as +his outward deportment in the presence of the priest was concerned, the +apprentice was only following his master's example. + +Marzio had been looking about him for another husband for his daughter, +and he had actually selected one from among his most intimate friends. +His choice had fallen upon the thin lawyer--by name Gasparo +Carnesecchi--who, according to the chiseller's views, was in all +respects a most excellent match. A true freethinker, a practising lawyer +with a considerable acquaintance in the world of politics, a discreet +man not far from forty years of age, it seemed as though nothing more +were required to make a model husband. Marzio knew very well that +Lucia's dowry would alone have sufficed to decide the lawyer to marry +her, and an interview with Carnesecchi had almost decided the matter. Of +course, he had not been able to allude to the affair this evening at the +inn, when so many others were present, but the preliminaries were +nearly settled, and Marzio had made up his mind to announce his +intention to his family at once. He knew well enough what a storm he +would raise, and, like many men who are always trying to seem stronger +than they really are, he had determined to choose a moment for making +the disclosure when he should be in a thoroughly bad humour. As he +walked homewards from the old inn he felt that this moment had arrived. +The slimy pavement, the moist wind driving through the streets and round +every corner, penetrating to the very joints, contributed to make him +feel thoroughly vicious and disagreeable; and the tirade in which he had +been indulging before his audience of friends had loosed his tongue, +until he was conscious of being able to face any domestic disturbance or +opposition. + +The little party had adjourned from supper, and had been sitting for +some time in the small room which served as a place of meeting. +Gianbattista was smoking a cigarette, which he judged to be more in +keeping with his appearance than a pipe when he was dressed in civilised +garments, and he was drawing an elaborate ornament of arabesques upon a +broad sheet of paper fixed on a board. Lucia seated at the table was +watching the work, while Don Paolo sat in a straight-backed chair, his +white hands folded on his knee, from time to time addressing a remark +to Maria Luisa. The latter, being too stout to recline in the deep +easy-chair near the empty fireplace, sat bolt upright, with her feet +upon the edge of a footstool, which was covered by a tapestry of +worsted-work, displaying an impossible nosegay upon a vivid green +ground. + +They had discussed the priest's canonry, and the order for the crucifix. +They had talked about the weather. They had made some remarks upon +Marzio's probable disposition of mind when he should come home, and the +conversation was exhausted so far as the two older members were +concerned. Gianbattista and Lucia conversed in a low tone, in short, +enigmatic phrases. + +"Do you know?" said the apprentice. + +"What?" inquired Lucia. + +"I have spoken of it to-day." Both glanced at the Signora Pandolfi. She +was sitting up as straight as ever, but her heavy head was slowly +bending forward. + +"Well?" asked the young girl + +"He was in a diabolical humour. He said I might take you away." +Gianbattista smiled as he spoke, and looked into Lucia's eyes. She +returned his gaze rather sadly, and only shook her head and shrugged her +shoulders for a reply. + +"If we took him at his word," suggested Gianbattista. + +"Just so--it would be a fine affair!" exclaimed Lucia ironically. + +"After all, he said so," argued the young man. "What does it matter +whether he meant it?" + +"Things are going badly for us," sighed his companion. "It was different +a year ago. You must have done something to displease him, Tista. I wish +I knew!" Her dark eyes suddenly assumed an angry expression, and she +drew in her red lips. + +"Wish you knew what?" inquired the apprentice, in a colder tone. + +"Why he does not think about it as he used to. He never made any +objections until lately. It was almost settled." + +Gianbattista glanced significantly at Don Paolo, shrugged his shoulders, +and went on drawing. + +"What has that to do with it?" asked Lucia impatiently. + +"It is enough for your father that it would please his brother. He would +hate a dog that Don Paolo liked." + +"What nonsense!" exclaimed the girl. "It is something else. Papa sees +something--something that I do not see. He knows his own affairs, and +perhaps he knows yours too, Tista. I have not forgotten the other +evening." + +"I!" ejaculated the young man, looking up angrily. + +"You know very well where I was--at the Circolo Artistico. How do you +dare to think--" + +"Why are you so angry if there is no one else in the case?" asked Lucia, +with a sudden sweetness, which belied the jealous glitter in her eyes. + +"It seems to me that I have a right to be angry. That you should suspect +me after all these years! How many times have I sworn to you that I went +nowhere else?" + +"What is the use of your swearing? You do not believe in anything--why +should you swear? Why should I believe you?" + +"Oh--if you talk like that, I have finished!" answered Gianbattista. +"But there--you are only teasing me. You believe me, just as I believe +you. Besides, as for swearing and believing in something besides +you--who knows? I love you--is not that enough?" + +Lucia's eyes softened as they rested on the young man's face. She knew +he loved her. She only wanted to be told so once more. + +"There is Marzio," said Don Paolo, as a key rattled in the latch of the +outer door. + +"At this hour!" exclaimed the Signora Pandolfi, suddenly waking up and +rubbing her eyes with her fat fingers. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Marzio, having divested himself of his heavy coat and hat, appeared at +the door of the sitting-room. + +Everybody looked at him, as though to discern the signs of his temper, +and no one was perceptibly reassured by the sight of his white face and +frowning forehead. + +"Well, most reverend canon," he began, addressing Don Paolo, "I am in +time to congratulate you, it seems. It was natural that I should be the +last to hear of your advancement, through the papers." + +"Thank you," answered Don Paolo quietly. "I came to tell you the news." + +"You are very considerate," returned Marzio. "I have news also; for you +all." He paused a moment, as though to give greater effect to the +statement he was about to make. "I refer," he continued very slowly, "to +the question of Lucia's marriage." + +"Indeed!" exclaimed the priest. "I am glad if it is to be arranged at +last." + +The other persons in the room held their breath. The young girl blushed +deeply under her white skin, and Gianbattista grew pale as he laid aside +his pencil and shaded his eyes with his hands. The Signora Pandolfi +panted with excitement and trembled visibly as she looked at her +husband. His dark figure stood out strongly from the background of the +shabby blue wall paper, and the petroleum lamp cast deep shadows in the +hollows of his face. + +"Yes," he continued, "I talked yesterday with Gasparo Carnesecchi--you +know, he is the lawyer I always consult. He is a clever fellow and +understands these matters. We talked of the contract; I thought it +better to consult him, you see, and he thinks the affair can be arranged +in a couple of weeks. He is so intelligent. A marvel of astuteness; we +discussed the whole matter, I say, and it is to be concluded as soon as +possible. So now, my children--" + +Gianbattista and Lucia, seated side by side at the table, were looking +into each other's eyes, and as Marzio fixed his gaze upon them, their +hands joined upon the drawing-board, and an expression of happy surprise +overspread their faces. Marzio smiled too, as he paused before +completing the sentence. + +"So that now, my children," he continued, speaking very slowly, "you may +as well leave each other's hands and have done with all this nonsense." + +The lovers looked up suddenly with a puzzled air, supposing that Marzio +was jesting. + +"I am in earnest," he went on. "You see, Tista, that it will not be +proper for you to sit and hold Lucia's hand when she is called Signora +Carnesecchi, so you may as well get used to it." + +For a moment there was a dead silence in the room. Then Lucia and +Gianbattista both sprang to their feet. + +"What!" screamed the young girl in an agony of terror. "Carnesecchi! +what do you mean?" + +"_Infame!_ Wretch!" shouted Gianbattista, beside himself with rage as he +sprang forward to grasp Marzio in his hands. + +But the priest had risen too, and placed himself between the young man +and Marzio to prevent any struggle. "No violence!" he cried in a tone +that dominated the angry voices and the hysterical weeping of Maria +Luisa, who sat rocking herself in her chair. Gianbattista stepped back +and leaned against the wall, choking with anger. Lucia fell back into +her seat and covered her face with her hands. + +"Violence? Who wants violence?" asked Marzio in contemptuous tones. "Do +you suppose I am afraid of Tista? Let him alone, Paolo; let us see +whether he will strike me." + +The priest now turned his back on the apprentice, and confronted Marzio. +He was not pale like the rest, for he was not afraid of the chiseller, +and the generous flush of a righteous indignation mounted to his calm +face. + +"You are mad," he said, meeting his brother's gaze fearlessly. + +"Not in the least," returned Marzio. "Lucia shall marry Gasparo +Carnesecchi at once, or she shall not marry any one; what am I saying? +She shall have no choice. She must and she shall marry the man I have +chosen. What have you to do with it? Have you come here to put yourself +between me and my family? I advise you to be careful. The law protects +me from such interference, and fellows of your cloth are not very +popular at present." + +"The law," answered the priest, controlling his wrath, "protects +children against their parents. The law which you invoke provides that a +father shall not force his daughter to marry against her will, and I +believe that considerable penalties are incurred in such cases." + +"What do you know of law, except how to elude it?" inquired Marzio +defiantly. + +Not half an hour had elapsed since he had been haranguing the admiring +company of his friends, and his words came easily. Moreover, it was a +long time since he had broken through the constraint he felt in Don +Paolo's presence, and the opportunity having presented itself was not to +be lost. + +"Who are you that should teach me?" he repeated, raising his voice to a +strained key and gesticulating fiercely. "You, your very existence is a +lie, and you are the server of lies, and you and your fellow liars would +have created them if they didn't already exist, you love them so. You +live by a fraud, and you want to drag everybody into the comedy you play +every day in your churches, everybody who is fool enough to drop a coin +into your greedy palm! What right have you to talk to men? Do you work? +Do you buy? Do you sell? You are worse than those fine gentlemen who do +nothing because their fathers stole our money, for you live by stealing +it yourselves! And you set yourselves up as judges over an honest man to +tell him what he is to do with his daughter? You fool, you thing in +petticoats, you deceiver of women, you charlatan, you mountebank, go! Go +and perform your antics before your altars, and leave hardworking men +like me to manage their families as they can, and to marry their +daughters to whom they will!" + +Marzio had rolled off his string of invective in such a tone, and so +rapidly, that it had been impossible to interrupt him. The two women +were sobbing bitterly. Gianbattista, pale and breathing hard, looked as +though he would throttle Marzio if he could reach him, and Don Paolo +faced the angry artist, with reddening forehead, folding his arms and +straining his muscles to control himself. When Marzio paused for breath, +the priest answered him with an effort. + +"You may insult me if it pleases you," he said, "it is nothing to me. I +cannot prevent your uttering your senseless blasphemies. I speak to you +of the matter in hand. I tell you simply that in treating these two, who +love each other, as you are treating them, you are doing a thing +unworthy of a man. Moreover, the law protects your daughter, and I will +see that the law does its duty." + +"Oh, to think that I should have such a monster for a husband," groaned +the fat Signora Pandolfi, still rocking herself in her chair, and hardly +able to speak through her sobs. + +"You will do a bad day's work for yourself and your art when you try to +separate us," said Gianbattista between his teeth. + +Marzio laughed hoarsely, and turned his back on the rest, beginning to +fill his pipe at the chimney-piece. Don Paolo heard the apprentice's +words, and understood their meaning. He went and laid his hand on the +young man's shoulder. + +"Do not let us have any threats, Tista," he said quietly. "Sor Marzio +will never do this thing--believe me, he cannot if he would." + +"Go on," cried Marzio, striking a match. "Go on--sow the seeds of +discord, teach them all to disobey me. I am listening, my dear Paolo." + +"All the better, if you are," answered the priest, "for I assure you I +am in earnest. You will have time to consider this thing. I have a +matter of business with you, Marzio. That is what I came for this +evening. If you have done, we will speak of it." + +"Business?" exclaimed Marzio in loud ironical tones. "This is a good +time for talking of business--as good as any other! What is it?" + +"The Cardinal wants another piece of work done, a very fine piece of +work." + +"The Cardinal? I will not make any more chalices for your cardinals. I +am sick of chalices, and monstrances, and such stuff." + +"It is none of those," answered Don Paolo quietly. "The Cardinal wants a +magnificent silver crucifix. Will you undertake it? It must be your +greatest work, if you do it at all." + +"A crucifix?" repeated Marzio, in a changed tone. The angry gleam faded +from his eyes, and a dreamy look came into them as he let the heavy lids +droop a little, and remained silent, apparently lost in thought. The +women ceased sobbing, and watched his altered face, while Gianbattista +sank down into a chair and absently fingered the pencil that had fallen +across the drawing-board. + +"Will you do it?" asked Don Paolo, at last. + +"A crucifix," mused the artist. "Yes, I will make a crucifix. I have +made many, but I have never made one to my mind. Yes, tell the Cardinal +that I will make it for him, if he will give me time." + +"I do not think he will need it in less than three or four months," +answered Don Paolo. + +"Four months--that is not a long time for such a work. But I will try." + +Thereupon Marzio, whose manner had completely changed, puffed at his +pipe until it burned freely, and then approached the table, glancing at +Gianbattista and Lucia as though nothing had happened. He drew the +drawing-board which the apprentice had been using towards him, and, +taking the pencil from the hand of the young man, began sketching heads +on one corner of the paper. + +Don Paolo looked at him gravely. After the words Marzio had spoken, it +had gone against the priest's nature to communicate to him the +commission for the sacred object. He had hesitated a moment, asking +himself whether it was right that such a man should be allowed to do +such work. Then the urgency of the situation, and his knowledge of his +brother's character, had told him that the diversion might avert some +worse catastrophe, and he had quickly made up his mind. Even now he +asked himself whether he had done right. It was a question of theology, +which it would have taken long to analyse, and Don Paolo had other +matters to think of in the present, so he dismissed it from his mind. He +wanted to be gone, and he only stayed a few minutes to see whether +Marzio's mind would change again. He knew his brother well, and he was +sure that no violence was to be feared from him, except in his speech. +Such scenes as he had just witnessed were not uncommon in the Pandolfi +household, and Don Paolo did not believe that any consequence was to be +expected after he had left the house. He only felt that Marzio had been +more than usually unreasonable, and that the artist could not possibly +mean seriously what he had proposed that evening. + +The priest did not indeed think that Gianbattista was altogether good +enough for Lucia. The boy was occasionally a little wild in his speech, +and though he was too much in awe of Don Paolo to repeat before him any +of the opinions he had learned from his master, his manner showed +occasionally that he was inclined to take the side of the latter in most +questions that arose. But the habit of controlling his feelings in order +not to offend the man of the church, and especially in order not to hurt +Lucia's sensitive nature, had begun gradually to change and modify the +young man's character. From having been a devoted admirer of Marzio's +political creed and extreme free thought, Gianbattista had fallen, into +the way of asking questions of the chiseller, to see how he would answer +them; and the answers had not always satisfied him. Side by side with +his increasing skill in his art, which led him to compare himself with +his teacher, there had grown up in the apprentice the habit of comparing +himself with Marzio from the intellectual point of view as well as from +the artistic. The comparison did not appear to him advantageous to the +elder man, as he discovered, in his way of thinking, a lack of logic on +the one hand, and a love of frantic exaggeration on the other, which +tended to throw a doubt upon the whole system of ideas which had +produced these defects. The result was that the young man's mental +position was unbalanced, and he was inclined to return to a more normal +condition of thought. Don Paolo did not know all this, but he saw that +Gianbattista had grown more quiet during the last year, and he hoped +that his marriage with Lucia would complete the change. To see her +thrown into the arms of a man like Gasparo Carnesecchi was more than the +priest's affection for his niece could bear. He hardly believed that +Marzio would seriously think again of the scheme, and he entertained a +hope that the subject would not even be broached for some time to come. + +Marzio continued to draw in silence, and after a few minutes, Don Paolo +rose to take his leave. The chiseller did not look up from his pencil. + +"Good-night, Marzio--let it be a good piece of work," said Paolo. + +"Good-night," growled the artist, his eyes still fixed on the paper. His +brother saluted the rest and left the room to go home to his lonely +lodgings at the top of an old palace, in the first floor of which dwelt +the Cardinal, whom he served as secretary. When he was gone, Lucia rose +silently and went to her room, leaving her father and mother with +Gianbattista. The Signora Pandolfi hesitated as to whether she should +follow her daughter or stay with the two men. Her woman's nature feared +further trouble, and visions of drawn knives rose before her swollen +eyes, so that, after making as though she would rise twice, she finally +remained in her seat, her fat hands resting idly upon her knees, staring +at her husband and Gianbattista. The latter sat gloomily watching the +paper on which his master was drawing. + +"Marzio, you do not mean it?" said Maria Luisa, after a long interval of +silence. The good woman did not possess the gift of tact. + +"Do you not see that I have an idea?" asked her husband crossly, by way +of an answer, as he bent his head over his work. + +"I beg your pardon," said the Signora Pandolfi, in a humble tone, +looking piteously at Gianbattista. The apprentice shook his head, as +though he meant that nothing could be done for the present. Then she +rose slowly, and with a word of good-night as she turned to the door, +she left the room. The two men were alone. + +"Now that nobody hears us, Sor Marzio, what do you mean to do?" asked +Gianbattista in a low voice. Marzio shrugged his shoulders. + +"What I told you," he answered, after a few seconds. "Do you suppose +that rascally priest of a brother has made me change my mind?" + +"No, I did not expect that, but I am not a priest; nor am I a boy to be +turned round your fingers and put off in this way--sent to the wash like +dirty linen. You must answer to me for what you said this evening." + +"Oh, I will answer as much as you please," replied the artist, with an +evil smile. + +"Very well. Why do you want to turn me out, after promising for years +that I should marry Lucia with your full consent when she was old +enough?" + +"Why? because you have turned yourself out, to begin with. Secondly, +because Carnesecchi is a better match for my daughter than a beggarly +chiseller. Thirdly, because I please; and fourthly, because I do not +care a fig whether you like it or not. Are those reasons sufficient or +not?" + +"They may satisfy you," answered Gianbattista. "They leave something to +be desired in the way of logic, in my humble opinion." + +"Since I have told you that I do not care for your opinion--" + +"I will probably find means to make you care for it," retorted the young +man. "Don Paolo is quite right, in the first place, when he tells you +that the thing is simply impossible. Fathers do not compel their +daughters to marry in this century. Will you do me the favour to explain +your first remark a little more clearly? You said I had turned myself +out--how?" + +"You have changed, Tista," said Marzio, leaning back to sharpen his +pencil, and staring at the wall. "You change every day. You are not at +all what you used to be, and you know it. You are going back to the +priests. You fawn on my brother like a dog." + +"You are joking," answered the apprentice. "Of course I would not want +to make trouble in your house by quarrelling with Don Paolo, even if I +disliked him. I do not dislike him. This evening he showed that he is a +much better man than you." + +"Dear Gianbattista," returned Marzio in sour tones, "every word you say +convinces me that I have done right. Besides, I am busy--you see--you +disturb my ideas. If you do not like my house, you can leave it. I will +not keep you. I daresay I can educate another artist before I die. You +are really only fit to swing a censer behind Paolo, or at the heels of +some such animal." + +"Perhaps it would be better to do that than to serve the mass you sing +over your work-bench every day," said Gianbattista. "You are going too +far, Sor Marzio. One may trifle with women and their feelings. You had +better not attempt it with men." + +"Such as you and Paolo? There was once a mule in the Pescheria Vecchia; +when he got half-way through he did not like the smell of the fish, and +he said to his leader, 'I will turn back.' The driver pulled him along. +Then said the mule, 'Do not trifle with me. I will turn round and kick +you.' But there is not room for a mule to turn round in the Pescheria +Vecchia. The mule found it out, and followed the man through the fish +market after all. I hope that is clear? It means that you are a fool." + +"What is the use of bandying words?" cried the apprentice angrily. "I +will offer you a bargain, Sor Marzio. I will give you your choice. +Either I will leave the house, and in that case I will carry off Lucia +and marry her in spite of you. Or else I will stay here--but if Lucia +marries any one else, I will cut your throat. Is that a fair bargain?" + +"Perfectly fair, though I cannot see wherein the bargain consists," +answered Marzio, with a rough laugh. "I prefer that you should stay +here. I will run the risk of being murdered by you, any day, and you may +ran the risk of being sent to the galleys for life, if you choose. You +will be well cared for there, and you can try your chisel on +paving-stones for a change from silver chalices." + +"Never mind what becomes of me afterwards, in that case," said the young +man. "If Lucia is married to some one else, I do not care what happens. +So you have got your warning!" + +"Thank you. If you had remained what you used to be, you might have +married her without further difficulty. But to have you and Lucia and +Maria Luisa and Paolo all conspiring against me from morning till night +is more than I can bear. Good-night, and the devil be with you, you +fool!" + +"_Et cum spiritu tuo_," answered Gianbattista as he left the room. + +When Marzio was alone he returned to the head he was drawing--a head of +wonderful beauty, inclined downwards and towards one side, bearing a +crown of thorns, the eyelids drooped and shaded in death. He glanced at +it with a bitter smile and threw aside the pencil without making another +stroke upon the paper. + +He leaned back, lighted another pipe, and began to reflect upon the +events of the evening. He was glad it was over, for a strange weakness +in his violent nature made it hard for him to face such scenes unless he +were thoroughly roused. Now, however, he was satisfied. For a long time +he had seen with growing distrust the change in Gianbattista's manner, +and in the last words he had spoken to the apprentice he had uttered +what was really in his heart. He was afraid of being altogether +overwhelmed by the majority against him in his own house. He hated Paolo +with his whole soul, and he had hated him all his life. This calm, +obliging brother of his stood between him and all peace of mind. It was +not the least of his grievances that he received most of his commissions +through the priest who was constantly in relation with the cardinal and +rich prelates who were the patrons of his art. The sense of obligation +which he felt was often almost unbearable, and he longed to throw it +off. The man whom he hated for his own sake and despised for his +connection with the church, was daily in his house; at every turn he met +with Paolo's tacit disapprobation or outspoken resistance. For a long +time Paolo had doubted whether the marriage between the two young people +would turn out well, and while he expressed his doubts Marzio had +remained stubborn in his determination. Latterly, and doubtless owing to +the change in Gianbattista's character, Paolo had always spoken of the +marriage with favour. This sufficed at first to rouse Marzio's +suspicions, and ultimately led to his opposing with all his might what +he had so long and so vigorously defended; he resolved to be done with +what he considered a sort of slavery, and at one stroke to free himself +from his brother's influence, and to assure Lucia's future. During +several weeks he had planned the scene which had taken place that +evening, waiting for his opportunity, trying to make sure of being +strong enough to make it effective, and revolving the probable answers +he might expect from the different persons concerned. It had come, and +he was satisfied with the result. + +Marzio Pandolfi's intelligence lacked logic. In its place he possessed +furious enthusiasm, an exaggerated estimate of the value of his social +doctrines, and a whole vocabulary of terms by which to describe the +ideal state after which he hankered. But though he did not possess a +logic of his own, his life was itself the logical result of the +circumstances he had created. As, in the diagram called the +parallelogram of forces, various conflicting powers are seen to act at a +point, producing an inevitable resultant in a fixed line, so in the plan +of Marzio's life, a number of different tendencies all acted at a +centre, in his overstrained intelligence, and continued to push him in a +direction he had not expected to follow, and of which even now he was +far from suspecting the ultimate termination. + +He had never loved his brother, but he had loved his wife with all his +heart. He had begun to love Lucia when she was a child. He had felt a +sort of admiring fondness for Gianbattista Bordogni, and a decided pride +in the progress and the talent of the apprentice. By degrees, as the +prime mover, his hatred for Paolo, gained force, it had absorbed his +affection for Maria Luisa, who, after eighteen years of irreproachable +wifehood, seemed to Marzio to be nothing better than an accomplice and a +spy of his brother's in the domestic warfare. Next, the lingering love +for his child had been eaten up in the same way, and Marzio said to +himself that the girl had joined the enemy, and was no longer worthy of +his confidence. Lastly, the change in Gianbattista's character and ideas +seemed to destroy the last link which bound the chiseller to his family. +Henceforth, his hand was against each one of his household, and he +fancied that they were all banded together against himself. + +Every step had followed as the inevitable consequence of what had gone +before. The brooding and suspicious nature of the artist had persisted +in seeing in each change in himself the blackest treachery in those who +surrounded him. His wife was an implacable enemy, his daughter a spy, +his apprentice a traitor, and as for Paolo himself, Marzio considered +him the blackest of villains. For all this chain of hatreds led +backwards, and was concentrated with tenfold virulence in his great +hatred for his brother. Paolo, in his estimation, was the author of all +the evil, the sole ultimate cause of domestic discord, the arch enemy of +the future, the representative, in Marzio's sweeping condemnation, not +only of the church and of religion, but of that whole fabric of existing +society which the chiseller longed to tear down. + +Marzio's socialism, for so he called it, had one good feature. It was +sincere of its kind, and disinterested. He was not of the common herd, a +lazy vagabond, incapable of continuous work, or of perseverance in any +productive occupation, desiring only to be enriched by impoverishing +others, one of the endless rank and file of Italian republicans, to whom +the word "republic" means nothing but bread without work, and the +liberty which consists in howling blasphemies by day and night in the +public streets. His position was as different from that of a private in +the blackguard battalion as his artistic gifts and his industry were +superior to those of the throng. He had money, he had talent, and he had +been very successful in his occupation. He had nothing to gain by the +revolutions he dreamed of, and he might lose much by any upsetting of +the existing laws of property. He was, therefore, perfectly sincere, so +far as his convictions went, and disinterested to a remarkable degree. +These conditions are often found in the social position of the true +fanatic, who is the more ready to run to the greatest length, because he +entertains no desire to better his own state. Marzio's real weakness lay +in the limited scope of his views, and in a certain timid prudence which +destroyed his power of initiative. He was an economical man, who +distrusted the future; and though such a disposition produces a good +effect in causing a man to save money against the day of misfortune, it +is incompatible with the career of the true enthusiast, who must be +ready to risk everything at any moment. The man who would move other +men, and begin great changes, must have an enormous belief in himself, +an unbounded confidence in his cause, and a large faith in the future, +amounting to the absolute scorn of consequence. + +These greater qualities Marzio did not possess, and through lack of them +the stupendous results of which he was fond of talking had diminished to +a series of domestic quarrels, in which he was not always victorious. +His hatred of the church was practically reduced to the detestation of +his brother, and to an unreasoning jealousy of his brother's influence +in his home. His horror of social distinctions, which speculated freely +upon the destruction of the monarchy, amounted in practice to nothing +more offensive than a somewhat studious rudeness towards the few +strangers of high position who from time to time visited the workshop in +the Via dei Falegnami. In the back room of his inn, Marzio could find +loud and cutting words in which to denounce the Government, the +monarchy, the church, and the superiority of the aristocracy. In real +fact, Marzio took off his hat when he met the king in the street, paid +his taxes with a laudable regularity, and increased the small fortune he +had saved by selling sacred vessels to the priests against whom he +inveighed. Instead of burning the Vatican and hanging the College of +Cardinals to the pillars of the Colonnade, Marzio Pandolfi felt a very +unpleasant sense of constraint in the presence of the only priest with +whom he ever conversed, his brother Paolo. When, on very rare occasions, +he broke out into angry invective, and ventured to heap abuse upon the +calm individual who excited his wrath, he soon experienced the +counter-shock in the shape of a strong conviction that he had injured +his position rather than bettered it, and the melancholy conclusion +forced itself upon him that by abusing Paolo he himself lost influence +in his own house, and not unfrequently called forth the contempt of +those he had sought to terrify. + +The position was galling in the extreme; for, like many artists who are +really remarkable in their profession, Marzio was very vain of his +intellectual superiority in other branches. It may be a question whether +vanity is not essential to any one who is forced to compete in +excellence with other gifted men. Vanity means emptiness, and in the +case of the artist it means that emptiness which craves to be filled +with praise. The artist may doubt his own work, but he is bitterly +disappointed if other people doubt it also. Marzio had his full share of +this kind of vanity, which, as in most cases, extended beyond the sphere +of his art. How often does one hear two or three painters or sculptors +who are gathered together in a studio, laying down the law concerning +Government, society, and the distribution of wealth. And yet, though +they make excellent statues and paint wonderful pictures, there are very +few instances on record of artists having borne any important part in +the political history of their times. Not from any want of a desire to +do so, in many cases, but from the real want of the power; and yet many +of them believe themselves far more able to solve political and social +questions than the men who represent them in the Parliament of their +country, or the persons who by innate superiority of tact have made +themselves the arbiters of society. + +Marzio's vanity suffered terribly, for he realised the wide difference +that existed between his aims and the result actually produced. For this +reason he had determined to bring matters to a point of contention in +his household, in order to assert once and for all the despotic +authority which he believed to be his right. He knew well enough that in +proposing the marriage of Lucia with Carnesecchi, he had hit upon a plan +which Paolo would oppose with all his might. It seemed as though he +could not have selected a question more certain to produce a hot +contention. He had brought forward his proposal boldly, and had not +hesitated to make a most virulent personal attack on his brother when +the latter had shown signs of opposition. And yet, as he sat over his +drawing board, staring at the clouds of smoke that rose from his pipe, +he was unpleasantly conscious that he had not been altogether +victorious, that he had not played the part of the despot to the end, as +he had intended to do, that he had suddenly felt his inferiority to +Paolo's calmness, and that upon hearing of the proposition concerning +the crucifix he had acted as though he had received a bribe to be quiet. +He bit his thin lips as he reflected that all the family must have +supposed his silence from that moment to have been the effect of the +important commission which Paolo had communicated to him; for it seemed +impossible that they should understand the current of his thoughts. + +As he glanced at the head he had drawn he understood himself better than +others had understood him, for he saw on the corner of the paper the +masterly sketch of an ideal Christ he had sought after for years without +ever reaching it. He knew that that ideal had presented itself to his +mind at the very moment when Paolo had proposed the work to him--the +result perhaps, of the excitement under which he laboured at the moment. +From that instant he had been able to think of nothing. He had been +impelled to draw, and the expression of his thought had driven +everything else out of his mind. Paolo had gained a fancied victory by +means of a fancied bribe. Marzio determined to revenge himself for the +unfair advantage his brother had then taken, by showing himself +inflexible in his resolution concerning the marriage. It was but a small +satisfaction to have braved Gianbattista's boyish threats, after having +seemed to accept the bribe of a priest. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +On the following morning, Marzio left the house earlier than usual +Gianbattista had not finished his black coffee, and was not in a humour +to make advances to his master, after the scene of the previous evening. +So he did not move from the table when the chiseller left the room, nor +did he make any remark upon the hour. The door that led to the stairs +had hardly closed after Marzio, when Lucia put her head into the room +where Gianbattista was seated. + +"He is gone," said the young man; "come in, we can talk a few minutes." + +"Tista," began, Lucia, coming forward and laying her fingers on his +curly hair, "what did all that mean last night? Have you understood?" + +"Who understands that lunatic!" exclaimed Gianbattista, passing his arm +round the girl's waist, and drawing her to him. "I only understand one +thing, we must be married as soon as possible and be done with it. Is it +not true, Lucia?" + +"I hope so," answered his companion, with a blush and a sigh. "But I am +so much afraid." + +"Do not be afraid, leave it all to me, I will protect you, my darling," +replied the young man, tapping his breast with the ready gesture of an +Italian, as though to prove his courage. + +"Oh, I am sure of that! But how can it be managed? Of course he cannot +force me to marry Carnesecchi, as Uncle Paolo explained to him. But he +will try, and he is so bad!" + +"Let him try, let him try," repeated Gianbattista. "I made a bargain +with him last night after you had gone to bed. Do you know what I told +him? I told him that I would stay with him, but that if you married any +one but me, I would cut his throat--Sor Marzio's throat, do you +understand?" + +"Oh, Tista!" cried Lucia. "How did you ever have the courage to tell him +such a thing? Besides, you know, you would not do it, would you?" + +"Do not trouble yourself, he saw I was in earnest, and he will think +twice about it. Besides, he said yesterday that I might have you if I +would take you away." + +"A nice thing for a father to say of his daughter!" exclaimed the girl +angrily. "And what did you answer him then, my love?" + +"Oh! I said that I had not the slightest objection to the proceeding. +And then he tried to prove to me that we should starve without him, and +then he swore at me like a Turk. What did it matter? He said I was +changed. By Diana! Any man would change, just for the sake of not being +like him!" + +"How do you mean that you are changed, dear?" asked Lucia anxiously. + +"Who knows? He said I fawned on Don Paolo like a dog, instead of hating +the priests as I used to do. What do you think, love?" + +"I think Uncle Paolo would laugh at the idea," answered the girl, +smiling herself, but rather sadly. "I am afraid you are as bad as ever, +in that way." + +"I am not bad, Lucia. I begin to think I like Don Paolo. He was splendid +last night. Did you see how he stared your father out of countenance, +and then turned him into a lamb with the order for the crucifix? Don +Paolo has a much stronger will than Sor Marzio, and a great deal more +sense. He will make your father change his mind." + +"Of course it would be for the better if we could be married without any +objection, and I am very glad you are growing fond of Uncle Paolo. But I +have seen it for some time. He is so good!" + +"Yes. That is the truth," answered Gianbattista in meditative tone. "He +is too good. It is not natural. And then he has a way of making me feel +it. Now, I would have strangled Sor Marzio last night if your uncle had +not been there, but he prevented me. Of course he was right. Those +people always are. But one hates to be set right by a priest. It is +humiliating!" + +"Well, it is better than not to be set right at all," said Lucia. "You +see, if you had strangled poor papa, it would have been dreadful! Oh, +Tista, promise me that you will not do anything violent! Of course he is +very unkind, I know. But it would be terrible if you were to be angry +and hurt him. You will not, Tista? Tell me you will not?" + +"We shall see; we shall see, my love!" + +"You do not love me if you will not promise." + +"Oh, if that is all, my love, I will promise never to lay a finger on +him until you are actually married to some one else. But then--" +Gianbattista made the gesture which means driving the knife into an +enemy. + +"Then you may do anything you please," answered Lucia, with a laugh. "He +will never make me marry any one but you. You know that, my heart!" + +"In that case we ought to be married very soon," argued the young man. +"We need not live here, you know. Indeed, it would be out of the +question. We will take one of those pretty little places in the new +quarter--" + +"That is so far away," interrupted the girl. + +"Yes, but there is the tramway, and there are omnibuses. It only takes a +quarter of an hour." + +"But you would be so far from me all day, my love. I could not run into +the studio at all hours, and you would not come home for dinner. Oh! I +could not bear it!" + +"Very well, we will try and find something near here," said +Gianbattista, yielding the point. "We will get a little apartment near +the Minerva, where there is sun." + +"And we will have a terrace on the top of the house, with pots of +carnations." + +"And red curtains on rings, that we can draw; it is such a pretty light +when the sun shines through them." + +"And green wall paper with blue furniture," suggested Lucia. "It is so +gay." + +"Or perhaps the furniture of the same colour as the paper--you know they +have it so in all fashionable houses." + +"Well, if it is really the fashion, I suppose we must," assented the +girl rather regretfully. + +"Yes, it is the fashion, my heart, and you must have everything in the +fashion. But I must be going," added the young man, rising from his seat. + +"Already? It is early, Tista--" she hesitated, "Dear Tista," she began +again, her dark eyes resting anxiously on his face, "what will you say +to him in the workshop? You will tell him that I would rather die than +marry Carnesecchi, that we are solemnly promised, that nothing shall +part us! You will make him see reason, Tista, will you not? I cannot go +to him, or I would; and mamma, poor mamma, is so afraid of him when he +is in his humours. There are only you and Uncle Paolo to manage him; and +after the way he insulted Uncle Paolo last night, it will be all the +harder. Think of it, Tista, while you are at work, and bring me word +when you come to dinner." + +"Never fear, love," replied Gianbattista confidently; "what else should +I think of while I am hammering away all day? A little kiss, to give me +courage." + +In a moment he was gone, and his quick step resounded on the stairs as +he ran down, leaving Lucia at the door above, to catch the last good-bye +he called up to her when he reached the bottom. His fresh voice came up +to her mingled with the rattle of the lumbering carts in the street. She +answered the cry and went in. + +Just then the sleepy Signora Pandolfi emerged from her chamber, clad in +the inevitable skirt and white cotton jacket, her heavy black hair +coiled in an irregular mass on the top of her head, and held in place +by hair-pins that seemed to be on the point of dropping out. + +"Ah, Lucia, my darling! Such a night as I have passed!" she moaned, +sinking into a chair beside the table, on which the coffee-pot and the +empty cups were still standing. "Such a night, my dear! I have not +closed an eye. I am sure it is the last judgment! And this scirocco, +too, it is enough to kill one!" + +"Courage, mamma," answered Lucia gaily. "Things are never so bad as they +seem." + +"Oh, that monster, that monster!" groaned the fat lady. "He would make +an angel lose his patience! Imagine, my dear, he insists that you shall +be married in a fortnight, and he has left me money to go and buy things +for your outfit! Oh dear! What are we to do? I shall go mad, my dear, +and you will all have to take me to Santo Spirito! Oh dear! Oh dear! +This scirocco!" + +"I think papa will go mad first," said Lucia. "I never heard of such an +insane proposition in my life. All in a moment too--I think I am to +marry Tista--papa gets into a rage and--_patatunfate!_ a new +husband--like a conjuror's trick, such a comedy! I expected to see the +door open at every minute, Pulcinella walk in and beat everybody with a +blown bladder! But Uncle Paolo did quite as well." + +"Oh, my head!" complained the Signora Pandolfi. "I have not slept a +wink!" + +"And then it was shameful to see the way papa grew quiet and submissive +when Uncle Paolo gave him the order for the crucifix! If it had been +anybody but papa, I should have said that a miracle had been performed. +But poor papa! No--the miracle of the soldi--that is the truth. I would +like to catch sight of the saint who could work a miracle on papa! +Capers, what a saint he would have to be!" + +"Bacchus!" ejaculated Maria Luisa, "San Filippo Neri would be nowhere! +The Holy Father would have to make a saint on purpose to convert that +monster! A saint who should have nothing else to do. Oh, how hot it is! +My head is splitting. What are we to do, Lucia, my heart? Tell me a +little what we are to do--two poor women--all alone--oh dear!" + +"In the first place, it needs courage, mamma," answered Lucia, "and a +cup of coffee. It is still hot, and you have not had any--" + +"Coffee! Who thinks of coffee?" cried the Signora Pandolfi, taking the +cup from her daughter's hands, and drinking the liquid with more +calmness than might have been anticipated. + +"That is right," continued the girl. "Drink, mamma, it will do you good. +And then, and then--let me see. And then you must talk to Suntarella +about the dinner. That old woman has no head--" + +"Dinner!" cried the mother, "who thinks of dinner at such a time? And he +left me the money for the outfit, too! Lucia, my love, I have the +fever--I will go to bed." + +"Eh! What do you suppose? That is a way out of all difficulties," +answered Lucia philosophically. + +"But you cannot go out alone--" + +"I will stay at home in that case." + +"And then he will come to dinner, and ask to see the things--" + +"There will be no things to show him," returned the young girl. + +"Well? And then where should we be?" inquired the Signora Pandolfi. "I +see him, my husband, coming back and finding that nothing has been done! +He would tear his hair! He would kill us! He would bring his broomstick +of a lawyer here to marry you this very afternoon, and what should we +have gained then? It needs judgment, Lucia, my heart--judgment, +judgment!" repeated the fat lady, tapping her forehead. + +"Eh! If you have not enough for two, mamma, I do not know what we shall +do." + +"At the same time, something must be done," mused Maria Luisa. "My head +is positively bursting! We might go out and buy half a dozen +handkerchiefs, just to show him that we have begun. Do you think a few +handkerchiefs would quiet him, my love? You could always use them +afterwards--a dozen would be too many--" + +"Bacchus!" exclaimed Lucia, "I have only one nose." + +"It is a pity," answered her mother rather irrelevantly. "After all, +handkerchiefs are the cheapest things, and if we spread them out, all +six, on the green sofa, they will make a certain effect--these men! One +must deceive them, my child." + +"Suppose we did another thing," began Lucia, looking out of the window. +"We might get some things--in earnest, good things. They will always do +for the wedding with Tista. Meanwhile, papa will of course have to +change his mind, and then it will be all right." + +"What genius!" cried the Signora Pandolfi. "Oh, Lucia! You have found +it! And then we can just step into the workshop on our way--that will +reassure your father." + +"Perhaps, after all, it would be better to go and tell him the truth," +said Lucia, beginning to walk slowly up and down the room. "He must know +it, sooner or later." + +"Are you mad, Lucia?" exclaimed her mother, holding up her hands in +horror. "Just think how he would act if you went and faced him!" + +"Then why not go and find Uncle Paolo?" suggested the girl. "He will +know what is best to be done, and will help us, you may be sure. Of +course, he expected to see us before anything was done in the matter. +But I am not afraid to face papa all alone. Besides, Tista is talking to +him at this very minute. I told him all he was to say, and he has so +much courage!" + +"I wish I had as much," moaned the Signora Pandolfi, lapsing into +hesitation. + +"Come, mamma, I will decide for you," said Lucia. "We will go and find +Uncle Paolo, and we will do exactly as he advises." + +"After all, that is best," assented her mother, rising slowly from her +seat. + +Half an hour later they left the house upon their errand, but they did +not enter the workshop on their way. Indeed, if they had, they would +have been surprised to find that Marzio was not there, and that +Gianbattista was consequently not talking to him as Lucia had supposed. + +When Gianbattista reached the workshop, he was told that Marzio had only +remained five minutes, and had gone away so soon as everybody was at +work. He hesitated a moment, wondering whether he might not go home +again and spend another hour in Lucia's company; but it was not possible +to foretell whether Marzio would be absent during the whole morning, and +Gianbattista decided to remain. Moreover, the peculiar smell of the +studio brought with it the idea of work, and with the idea came the love +of the art, not equal, perhaps, to the love of the woman but more +familiar from the force of habit. + +All men feel such impressions, and most of all those who follow a fixed +calling, and are accustomed to do their work in a certain place every +day. Theophile Gautier confessed in his latter days that he could not +work except in the office of the _Moniteur_--elsewhere, he said, he +missed the smell of the printers' ink, which brought him ideas. Artists +know well the effect of the atmosphere of the studio. Five minutes of +that paint-laden air suffice to make the outer world a mere dream, and +to recall the reality of work. There was an old dressing-gown to which +Thackeray was attached as to a friend, and which he believed +indispensable to composition. Balzac had his oval writing-room, when he +grew rich, and the creamy white colour of the tapestries played a great +part in his thoughts. The blacksmith loves the smoke of the forge and +the fumes of hot iron on the anvil, and the chiseller's fingers burn to +handle the tools that are strewn on the wooden bench. + +Gianbattista stood at the door of the studio, and had he been master +instead of apprentice, he could not have resisted the desire to go to +his place and take up the work he had left on the previous evening. In a +few minutes he was hammering away as busily as though there were no such +thing as marriage in the world, and nothing worth living for but the +chiselling of beautiful arabesques on a silver ewer. His head was bent +over his hands, his eyes followed intently the smallest movements of the +tool he held, he forgot everything else, and became wholly absorbed in +his occupation. + +Nevertheless, much of a chiseller's work is mechanical, and as the +smooth iron ran in and out of the tiny curves under the gentle tap of +the hammer, the young man's thoughts went back to the girl he had left +at the top of the stairs a quarter of an hour earlier; he thought of +her, as he did daily, as his promised wife, and he fell to wondering +when it would be, and how it would be. They often talked of the place in +which they would live, as they had done that morning; and as neither of +them was very imaginative, there was a considerable similarity between +the speculations they indulged in at one time and at another. It was +always to be a snug home, high up, with a terrace, pots of carnations, +and red curtains. Their only difference of opinion concerned the colour +of the walls and furniture. Like most Italians, they had very little +sense of colour, and thought only of having everything gay, as they +called it; that is to say, the upholstery was to be chosen of the most +vivid hues, probably of those horrible tints known as aniline. Italians, +as a rule, and especially those who belong to the same class as the +Pandolfi family, have a strong dislike for the darker and softer tones. +To them anything which is not vivid is sad, melancholy, and depressing +to the senses. Gianbattista saw in his mind's eye a little apartment +after his own heart, and was happy in the idea. But, as he followed the +train of thought, it led him to the comparison of the home to which he +proposed to take his wife with the one in which they now lived under her +father's roof, and suddenly the scene of the previous evening rose +clearly in the young man's imagination. He dropped his hammer, and +stared up at the grated windows. + +He went over the whole incident, and perhaps for the first time realised +its true importance, and all the danger there might be in the future +should Marzio attempt to pursue his plan to the end. Gianbattista had +only once seen the lawyer who was thus suddenly thrust into his place. +He remembered a thin, cadaverous man, in a long and gloomy black coat, +but that was all. He did not recall his voice, nor the expression of his +face; he had only seen him once, and had thought little enough of the +meeting. It seemed altogether impossible, and beyond the bounds of +anything rational, that this stranger should ever really be brought +forward to be Lucia's husband. + +For a moment the whole thing looked like an evil dream, and Gianbattista +smiled as he looked down again at his work. Then the reality of the +occurrence rose up again and confronted him stubbornly. He was not +mistaken, Marzio had actually pronounced those words, and Don Paolo had +sprung forward to prevent Gianbattista from attacking his master then +and there. The young man looked at his work, holding his tools in his +hands, but hesitating to lay the point of the chisel on the silver, as +he hesitated to believe the evidence of his memory. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +Marzio had risen early that morning, as has been said, and had left the +house before any one but Gianbattista was up. He was in reality far from +inclined to drink his coffee in the company of his apprentice, and would +have avoided it, if possible. Nor did he care to meet Lucia until he had +found time and occasion to refresh his anger. His wife was too sleepy to +quarrel, and hardly seemed to understand him when he gave her money and +bade her look to Lucia's outfit, adding that the wedding was to take +place immediately. + +"Will you not let me sleep in peace, even in the morning?" she groaned. + +"Magari! I wish you would sleep, and for ever!" growled Marzio, as he +left the room. + +He drank his coffee in silence, and went out. After looking into the +workshop he walked slowly away in the direction of the Capitol. The damp +morning air was pleasant to him, and the gloomy streets through which he +passed were agreeable to his state of feeling. He wished Home might +always wear such a dismal veil of dampness, scirocco, and cloud. + +A man in a bad humour will go out of his way to be rained upon and blown +against by the weather. We would all like to change our surroundings +with our moods, to fill the world with sunshine when we are happy, and +with clouds when we have stumbled in the labyrinths of life. Lovers wish +that the whole earth might be one garden, crossed and recrossed by +silent moonlit paths; and when love has taken the one and left the +other, he who stays behind would have his garden changed to an angry +ocean, and the sweet moss banks to storm-beaten rocks, that he may drown +in the depths, or be dashed to pieces by the waves, before he has had +time to know all that he has lost. + +As we grow older, life becomes the expression of a mood, according to +the way we have lived. He who seeks peace will find that with advancing +age the peaceful moment, that once came so seldom, returns more readily, +and that at last the moments unite to make hours, and the hours to build +up days and years. He who stoops to petty strife will find that the +oft-recurring quarrel has power to perpetuate the discontented weakness +out of which it springs, and that it can make all life a hell. He who +rejoices in action will learn that activity becomes a habit, and at last +excludes the possibility of rest, and the desire for it; and his lot is +the best, for the momentary gladness in a great deed well done is worth +a millennium of sinless, nerveless tranquillity. The positive good is as +much better than the negative "non-bad," as it is better to save a life +than not to destroy a life. But whatever temper of mind we choose will +surely become chronic in time, and will be known to those among whom we +live as our temper, our own particular temper, as distinguished from the +tempers of other people. + +Marzio had begun life in a bad humour. He delighted in his imaginary +grievances, and inflicted his anger on all who came near him, only +varying the manifestation of it to suit the position in which he chanced +to find himself. With his wife he was overbearing; with his brother he +was insolent; with his apprentice he was sullen; and with his associates +at the old Falcone he played the demagogue. The reason of these phases +was very simple. His wife could not oppose him, Don Paolo would not +wrangle with him, Gianbattista imposed upon him by his superior calm and +strength of character, and, lastly, his socialist friends applauded him +and nattered his vanity. It is impossible for a weak man to appear +always the same, and his weakness is made the more noticeable when he +affects strength. The sinews of goodness are courage, moral and +physical, a fact which places all really good men and women beyond the +reach of ridicule and above the high-water mark of the world's +contempt. + +Marzio lacked courage, and his virulence boiled most hotly when he had +least to fear for his personal safety. It was owing to this innate +weakness that such a combination of artistic sensitiveness and spasmodic +arrogance was possible. The man's excitable imagination apprehended +opposition where there was none, and his timidity made him fear a +struggle, and hate himself for fearing it. As soon as he was alone, +however, his thoughts generally returned to his art, and found +expression in the delicate execution of the most exquisite fancies. +Under other circumstances his character might have developed in a widely +different way; his talent would still have been the same. There is a +sort of nervous irritability which acts as a stimulant upon the +faculties, and makes them work faster. With Marzio this unnatural state +was chronic, and had become so because he had given himself up to it. It +is a common disease in cities, where a man is forced to associate with +his fellow-men, and to compete with them, whether he is naturally +inclined to do so or not. If Marzio could have exercised his art while +living as a hermit on the top of a lonely mountain he might have been a +much better man. + +He almost understood this himself as he walked slowly through the Via +delle Botteghe Oscure--"the street of dark shops"--in the early +morning. He was thinking of the crucifix he was to make, and the +interest he felt in it made him dread the consequences of the previous +night's domestic wrangling. He wanted to be alone, and at the same time +he wanted to see places and things which should suggest thoughts to him. +He did not care whither he went so long as he kept out of the new Rome. +When he reached the little garden in front of San Marco he paused, +looked at the deep doorway of the church, remembered the barbarous +mosaics within, and turned impatiently into a narrow street on the +right--the beginning of the Via di Marforio. + +The network of by-ways in this place is full of old-time memories. Here +is the Via Giulio Romano, where the painter himself once lived; here is +the Macel dei Corvi, where Michael Angelo once lodged; hard by stood the +statue of Marforio, christened by the mediaeval Romans after _Martis +Forum_, and famous as the interlocutor of Pasquino. The place was a +centre of artists and scholars in those days. Many a simple question was +framed here, to fit the two-edged biting answer, repeated from mouth to +mouth, and carefully written down among Pasquino's epigrams. First of +all the low-born Roman hates all that is, and his next thought is to +express his hatred in a stinging satire without being found out. + +Like every real Roman, Marzio thought of old Marforio as he strolled up +the narrow street towards the Capitol, and regretted the lawless days of +conspiracy and treacherous deeds when every man's hand was against his +fellow. He wandered on, his eyes cast down, and his head bent. Some one +jostled against him, walking quickly in the opposite direction. He +looked up and recognised Gasparo Carnesecchi's sallow face and long +nose. + +"Eh! Sor Marzio--is it you?" asked the lawyer. + +"I think so," answered the artist. "Excuse me, I was thinking of +something." + +"No matter. Of what were you thinking, then? Of Pasquino?" + +"Why not? But I was thinking of something else. You are in a hurry, I am +sure. Otherwise we would speak of that affair." + +"I am never in a hurry when there is business to be treated," replied +Carnesecchi, looking down the street and preparing to listen. + +"You know what I mean," Marzio began. "The matter we spoke of two days +ago--my plans for my daughter." + +The lawyer glanced quickly at his friend and assumed an indifferent +expression. He was aware that his position, was socially superior to +that of the silver-chiseller, in spite of Marzio's great talent. But he +knew also that Lucia was to have a dowry, and that she would ultimately +inherit all her father possessed. A dowry covers a multitude of sins in +the eyes of a man to whom money is the chief object in life. +Carnesecchi, therefore, meant to extract as many thousands of francs +from Marzio as should be possible, and prepared himself to bargain. The +matter was by no means settled, in spite of the chiseller's instructions +to his wife concerning the outfit. + +"We must talk," said Carnesecchi. "Not that I should be altogether +averse to coming easily to an understanding, you know. Bat there are +many things to be considered. Let us see." + +"Yes, let us see," assented the other. "My daughter has education. She +is also sufficiently well instructed. She could make a fine marriage. +But then, you see, I desire a serious person for my son-in-law. What +would you have? One must be prudent." + +It is not easy to define exactly what a Roman means by the word +"serious." In some measure it is the opposite of gay, and especially of +what is young and unsettled. The German use of the word Philistine +expresses it very nearly. A certain sober, straitlaced way of looking at +life, which was considered to represent morality in Rome fifty years +ago; a kind of melancholy superiority over all sorts of amusements, +joined with a considerable asceticism and the most rigid economy in the +household--that is what was meant by the word "serious." To-day its +signification has been slightly modified, but a serious man--_un uomo +serio_--still represents to the middle-class father the ideal of the +correct son-in-law. + +"Eh, without prudence!" exclaimed Carnesecchi, elliptically, as though +to ask where he himself would have been had he not possessed prudence in +abundance. + +"Exactly," answered Marzio, biting off the end of a common cigar and +fixing his eyes on the lawyer's thin, keen face. "Precisely. I think--of +course I do not know--but I think that you are a serious man. But then, +I may be mistaken." + +"Well, it is human to err, Sor Marzio. But then, I am no longer of that +age--what shall I say? Everybody knows I am serious. Do I lead the life +of the cafe? Do I wear out my shoes in Piazza Colonna? Capers! I am a +serious man." + +"Yes," answered Marzio, though with some hesitation, as though he were +prepared to argue even this point with the sallow-faced lawyer. He +struck a match on the gaudy little paper box he carried and began to +smoke thoughtfully. "Let us make a couple of steps," he said at last. + +Both men moved slowly on for a few seconds, and then stopped again. In +Italy "a couple of steps" is taken literally. + +"Let us see," said Carnesecchi. "Let us look at things as they are. In +these days there are many excellent opportunities for investing money." + +"Hum!" grunted Marzio, pulling a long face and looking up under his +eyebrows. "I know that is your opinion, Sor Gasparo. I am sorry that you +should put so much faith in the stability of things. So you, too, have +got the malady of speculation. I suppose you are thinking of building a +Palazzo Carnesecchi out at Sant' Agnese in eight floors and thirty-two +apartments." + +"Yes, I am mad," answered the lawyer ironically. + +"Who knows?" returned the other. "I tell you they are building a Pompeii +in those new quarters. When you and I are old men, crazy Englishmen will +pay two francs to be allowed to wander about the ruins." + +"It may be. I am not thinking of building. In tine first place I have +not the _soldi_." + +"And if you had?" inquired Marzio. + +"What nonsense! Besides, no one has. It is all done on credit, and the +devil take the hindmost. But if I really had a million--eh! I know what +I would do." + +"Let us hear. I also know what I would do. Besta! What is the use of +building castles in the air?" + +"In the air, or not in the air, if I had a million, I know what I would +do." + +"I would have a newspaper," said Marzio. "Whew! how it would sting!" + +"It would sting you, and bleed you into the bargain," returned the +lawyer with some contempt. "No one makes mosey out of newspapers in +these times. If I had money, I would be a deputy. With prudence there is +much to be earned in the Chambers, and petitioners know that they must +pay cash." + +"It is certainly a career," assented the artist "But, as you say, it +needs money for the first investment." + +"Not so much as a million, though. With a good opening, and some +knowledge of the law, a small sum would be enough." + +"It is a career, as I said," repeated Marzio. "But five thousand francs +would not give you an introduction to it." + +"Five thousand francs!" exclaimed Carnesecchi, with a scornful laugh. +"With five thousand francs you had better play at the lottery. After +all, if you lose, it is nothing." + +"It is a great deal of money, Sor Gasparo," replied the chiseller. "When +you have made it little by little--then you know what it means." + +"Perhaps. But we have been standing here more than a quarter of an +hour, and I have a client waiting for me about a big affair, an affair +of millions." + +"Bacchus!" ejaculated Marzio. "You are not in a hurry about the matter. +Well, we can always talk, and I will not keep you." + +"We might walk together, and say what we have to say." + +"I am going to the Capitol," Marzio said, for he had been walking in +that direction when they met. + +"That is my way, too," answered the lawyer, forgetting that he had run +into Marzio as he came down the street. + +"Eh! That is lucky," remarked the artist with an almost imperceptible +smile. "As I was saying," he continued, "five thousand francs is not the +National Bank, but it is a very pretty little sum, especially when there +is something more to be expected in the future." + +"That depends on the future. But I do not call it a sum. Nothing under +twenty thousand is a sum, properly speaking." + +"Who has twenty thousand francs?" laughed Marzio, shrugging his +shoulders with an incredulous look. + +"You talk as though Rome were an asylum for paupers," returned +Carnesecchi. "Who has twenty thousand francs? Why, everybody has. You +have, I have. One must be a beggar not to have that much. After all, we +are talking about business, Sor Marzio. Why should I not say it? I have +always said that I would not marry with less than that for a dowry. Why +should one throw away one's opportunities? To please some one? It is not +my business to try and please everybody. One must be just." + +"Of course. What? Am I not just? But if justice were done, where would +some people be? I say it, too. If you marry my daughter, you will expect +a dowry. Have I denied it? And then, five thousand is not so little. +There is the outfit, too; I have to pay for that." + +"That is not my affair," laughed the lawyer. "That is the business of +the woman. But five thousand francs is not my affair either. Think of +the responsibilities a man incurs when he marries! Five thousand! It is +not even a cup of coffee! You are talking to a _galantuomo_, an honest +man, Sor Marzio. Reflect a little." + +"I reflect--yes! I reflect that you ask a great deal of money, Signer +Carnesecchi," replied Marzio with some irritation. + +"I never heard that anybody gave money unless it was asked for." + +"It will not be for lack of asking if you do not get it," retorted the +artist. + +"What do you mean, Signor Pandolfi?" inquired Carnesecchi, drawing +himself up to his full height and then striking his hollow chest with +his lean hand. "Do you mean that I am begging money of you? Do you mean +to insult an honest man, a _galantuomo_? By heaven, Signor Pandolfi, I +would have you know that Gasparo Carnesecchi never asked a favour of any +man! Do you understand? Let us speak clearly." + +"Who has said anything?" asked Marzio. "Why do you heat yourself in this +way? And then, after all, we shall arrange this affair. You wish it. I +wish it. Why should it not be arranged? If five thousand does not suit +you, name a sum. We are Christians--we will doubtless arrange. But we +must talk. How much should you think, Sor Gasparo?" + +"I have said it. As I told you just now, I have always said that I would +not marry with less than eighteen thousand francs of dowry. What is the +use of repeating? Words are not roasted chestnuts." + +"Nor eighteen thousand francs either," answered the other. "Magari! I +wish they were. You should have them in a moment. But a franc is a +franc." + +"I did not say it was a cabbage," observed Carnesecchi. "After all, why +should I marry?" + +"Perhaps you will not," suggested Marzio, who was encouraged to continue +the negotiations, however, by the diminution in the lawyer's demands. + +"Why not?" asked the latter sharply, "Do you think nobody else has +daughters?"' + +"If it comes to that, why have you not married before?" + +"Because I did not choose to marry," answered Carnesecchi, beginning to +walk more briskly, as though to push the matter to a conclusion. + +Marzio said nothing in reply. He saw that his friend was pressing him, +and understood that, to do so, the lawyer must be anxious to marry +Lucia. The chiseller therefore feigned indifference, and was silent for +some minutes. At the foot of the steps of the Capitol he stopped again. + +"You know, Sor Gasparo," he said, "the reason why I did not arrange +about Lucia's marriage a long time ago, was because I was not +particularly in a hurry to have her married at all. And I am not in a +hurry now, either. We shall have plenty of opportunities of discussing +the matter hereafter. Good-bye, Sor Gasparo. I have business up there, +and that client of yours is perhaps impatient about his millions." + +"Good-bye," answered Carnesecchi. "There is plenty of time, as you say. +Perhaps we may meet this evening at the Falcone." + +"Perhaps," said Marab drily, and turned away. + +He had a good understanding of his friend's character, and though in his +present mood he would have been glad to fix the wedding day, and sign +the marriage contract at once, he had no intention of yielding to +Carnesecchi's exorbitant demands. The lawyer was in need of money, +Marzio thought, and as he himself was the possessor of what the other +coveted, there could be little doubt as to the side on which the +advantage would ultimately be taken. Marzio went half-way up the steps +of the Capitol, and then stopped to look at the two wretched wolves +which the Roman municipality thinks it incumbent on the descendants of +Romulus to support. He thought one of them very like Carnesecchi. He +watched the poor beasts a moment or two as they tramped and swung and +pressed their lean sides against the bars of their narrow cage. + +"What a sympathetic animal it is!" he exclaimed aloud. A passer-by +stared at him and then went on hurriedly, fearing that he might be mad. +Indeed, there was a sort of family likeness between the lawyer, the +chiseller, and the wolves. + +Other thoughts, however, occupied Marzio's attention; and as soon as he +was sure that his friend was out of the way, he descended the steps. He +did not care whither he went, but he had no especial reason for climbing +the steep ascent to the Capitol. The crucifix his brother had ordered +from him on the previous evening engaged his attention, and it was as +much for the sake of being alone and of thinking about the work that he +had taken his solitary morning walk, as with the hope of finding in some +church a suggestion or inspiration which might serve him. He knew what +was to be found in Roman churches well enough; the Crucifixion in the +Trinita dei Pellegrini and the one in San Lorenzo in Lucina--both by +Guido Reni, and both eminently unsympathetic to his conception of the +subject--he had often looked at them, and did not care to see them +again. At last he entered the Church of the Gesu, and sat down upon a +chair in a corner. + +He did not look up. The interior of the building was as familiar to him +as the outside. He sat in profound thought, occasionally twisting his +soft hat in his hands, and then again remaining quite motionless. He did +not know how long he stayed there. The perfect silence was pleasant to +him, and when he rose he felt that the idea he had sought was found, and +could be readily expressed. With a sort of sigh of satisfaction he went +out again into the air and walked quickly towards his workshop. + +The men told him that Gianbattista was busy within, and after glancing +sharply at the work which was proceeding, Marzio opened the inner door +and entered the studio. He strode up to the table and took up the body +of the ewer, which lay on its pad where he had left it the night before. +He held it in his hands for a moment, and then, pushing the leather +cushion towards Gianbattista, laid it down. + +"Finish it," he said shortly; "I have something else to do." + +The apprentice looked up in astonishment, as though he suspected that +Marzio was jesting. + +"I am afraid--" he answered with hesitation. + +"It makes no difference; finish it as best you can; I am sick of it; you +will do it well enough. If it is bad, I will take the responsibility." + +"Do you mean me really to finish it--altogether?" + +"Yes; I tell you I have a great work on hand. I cannot waste my time +over such toys as acanthus leaves and cherubs' eyes!" He bent down and +examined the thing carefully. "You had better lay aside the neck and +take up the body just where I left it, Tista," he continued. "The +scirocco is in your favour. If it turns cold to-morrow the cement may +shrink, and you will have to melt it out again." + +Marzio spoke to him as though there had not been the least difference +between them, as though Gianbattista had not proposed to cut his throat +the night before, as though he himself had not proposed to marry +Carnesecchi to Lucia. + +"Take my place," he said. "The cord is the right length for you, as it +is too short for me. I am going to model." + +Without more words Marzio went and took a large and heavy slate from +the corner, washed it carefully, and dried it with his handkerchief. +Then he provided himself with a bowl full of twisted lengths of red wax, +and with a couple of tools he sat down to his work. Gianbattista, having +changed his seat, looked over the tools his master had been using, with +a workman's keen glance, and, taking up his own hammer, attacked the +task given him. For some time neither of the men spoke. + +"I have been to church," remarked Marzio at last, as he softened a piece +of wax between his fingers before laying it on the slate. The news was +so astounding that Gianbattista uttered an exclamation of surprise. + +"You need not be frightened," answered the artist. "I only went to look +at a picture, and I did not look at it after all. I shall go to a great +many more churches before I have finished this piece of work. You ought +to go to the churches and study, Tista. Everything is useful in our +art--pictures, statues, mosaics, metal-work. Now I believe there is not +a really good crucifix, nor a crucifixion, in Rome. It is strange, too, +I have dreamed of one all my life." + +Gianbattista did not find any answer ready in reply to the statement. +The words sounded so strangely in Marzio's mouth this morning, that the +apprentice was confused. And yet the two had often discussed the subject +before. + +"You do not seem to believe me," continued Marzio quietly. "I assure you +it is a fact. The other things of the kind are not much better either. +Works of art, perhaps, but not satisfactory. Even Michael Angelo's +_Pieta_ in Saint Peter's does not please me. They say it did not please +the people of his time either--he was too young to do anything of that +sort--he was younger than you, Tista, only twenty-four years old when he +made that statue." + +"Yes," answered Gianbattista, "I have heard you say so." He bent over +his work, wondering what his master meant by this declaration of taste. +It seemed as though Marzio felt the awkwardness of the situation and was +exerting himself to make conversation. The idea was so strange that the +apprentice could almost have laughed. Marzio continued to soften the wax +between his fingers, and to lay the pieces of it on the slate, pressing +them roughly into the shape of a figure. + +"Has Paolo been here?" asked the master after another long pause. + +Gianbattista merely shook his head to express a negative. + +"Then he will come," continued Marzio. "He will not leave me in peace +all day, you may be sure." + +"What should he come for? He never comes," said the young man. + +"He will be afraid that I will have Lucia married before supper time. I +know him--and he knows me." + +"If he thinks that, he does not know you at all," answered Gianbattista +quietly. + +"Indeed?" exclaimed Marzio, raising his voice to the ironical tone he +usually affected when any one contradicted him. "To-day, to-morrow, or +the next day, what does it matter? I told you last night that I had made +up my mind." + +"And I told you that I had made up mine." + +"Oh yes--boy's threats! I am not the man to be intimidated by that sort +of thing. Look here, Tista, I am in earnest. I have considered this +matter a long time; I have determined that I will not be browbeaten any +longer by two women and a priest--certainly not by you. If things go on +as they are going, I shall soon not be master in my own house." + +"You would be the only loser," retorted Gianbattista. + +"Have done with this, Tista!" exclaimed Marzio angrily. "I am tired of +your miserable jokes. You have gone over to the enemy, you are Paolo's +man, and if I tolerate you here any longer it is merely because I have +taught you something, and you are worth your wages. As for the way I +have treated you during all these years, I cannot imagine how I could +have been such a fool. I should think anybody might see through your +hypocritical ways." + +"Go on," said Gianbattista calmly. "You know our bargain of last night" + +"I will risk that. If I see any signs of your amiable temper I will have +you arrested for threatening my life. I am not afraid of you, my boy, +but I do not care to die just at present. You have all had your way long +enough, I mean to have mine now." + +"Let us talk reasonably, Sor Marzio. You say we have had our way. You +talk as though you had been in slavery in your own house. I do not think +that is the opinion of your wife, nor of your daughter. As for me, I +have done nothing but execute your orders for years, and if I have +learnt something, it has not been by trying to overrule you or by +disregarding your advice. Two years ago, you almost suggested to me that +I should marry Lucia. Of course, I asked nothing better, and we agreed +to wait until she was old enough. We discussed the matter a thousand +times. We settled the details. I agreed to go on working for the same +small wages instead of leaving you, as I might have done, to seek my +fortune elsewhere. You see I am calm, I acknowledge that I was grateful +to you for having taught me so much, and I am grateful still. You have +just given me another proof of your confidence in putting this work into +my hands to finish. I am grateful for that. Well, we have talked of the +marriage often; I have lived in your house; I have seen Lucia every day, +for you have let us be together as much as we pleased; the result is +that I not only am more anxious to marry her than I was before--I love +her; I am not ashamed to say so. I know you laugh at women and say they +are no better than monkeys with parrots' heads. I differ from you. Lucia +is an angel, and I love her as she loves me. What happens? One day you +take an unreasonable dislike for me, without even warning me of the +fact, and then, suddenly, last night, you come home and say she is to +marry the Avvocato Gasparo Carnesecchi. Now, for a man who has taught me +that there is no God but reason, all this strikes me as very +unreasonable. Honestly, Sor Marzio, do you not think so yourself?" + +Marzio looked at his apprentice and frowned, as though hesitating +whether to lose his temper and launch into the invective style, or to +answer Gianbattista reasonably. Apparently he decided in favour of the +more peaceable course. + +"It is unworthy of a man who follows reason to lose his self-control and +indulge in vain threats," he answered, assuming a grand didactic air. +"You attempt to argue with me. I will show you what argument really +means, and whither it leads. Now answer me some questions, Tista, and I +will prove that you are altogether in the wrong. When a man is devoted +to a great and glorious cause, should he not do everything in his power +to promote its success against those who oppose it?" + +"Undoubtedly," assented Gianbattista. + +"And should not a man be willing to sacrifice his individual preferences +in order to support and to further the great end of his life?" + +"Bacchus! I believe it!" + +"Then how much the more easy must it be for a man to support his cause +when there are no individual preferences in the way!" said Marzio +triumphantly. "That is true reason, my boy. That is the inevitable logic +of the great system." + +"I do not understand the allegory," answered Gianbattista. + +"It is as simple as roasted chestnuts," returned Marzio. "Even if I +liked you, it would be my duty to prevent you from marrying Lucia. As I +do not like you--you understand?" + +"I understand that," replied the young man. "For some reason or other +you hate me. But, apart from the individual preferences, which you say +it is your duty to overcome, I do not see why you are morally obliged +to hinder our marriage, after having felt morally obliged to promote +it?" + +"Because you are a traitor to the cause," cried Marzio, with sudden +fierceness. "Because you are a friend of Paolo. Is not that enough?" + +"Poor Don Paolo seems to stick in your throat," observed Gianbattista. +"I do not see what he has done, except that he prevented me from killing +you last night!" + +"Paolo! Paolo is a snake, a venomous viper! It is his business, his only +aim in life, to destroy my peace, to pervert my daughter from the +wholesome views I have tried to teach her, to turn you aside from the +narrow path of austere Italian virtue, to draw you away from following +in the footsteps of Brutus, of Cassius, of the great Romans, of me, your +teacher and master! That is all Paolo cares for, and it is enough--more +than enough! And he shall pay me for his presumptuous interference, the +villain!" + +Marzio's voice sank into a hissing whisper as he bent over the wax he +was twisting and pressing. Gianbattista glanced at his pale face, and +inwardly wondered at the strange mixture of artistic genius, of +bombastic rhetoric and relentless hatred, all combined in the strange +man whom destiny had given him for a master. He wondered, too, how he +had ever been able to admire the contrasts of virulence and weakness, +of petty hatred and impossible aspirations which had of late revealed +themselves to him in a new light. Have we not most of us assisted at the +breaking of the Image of Baal, at the destruction of an imaginary +representative of an illogical ideal? + +"Well, Sor Marzio," said Gianbattista after a pause, "if I were to +return to my worship of you and your principles--what would you do? +Would you take me back to your friendship and give me your daughter?" + +Marzio looked up suddenly, and stared at the apprentice in surprise. But +the fresh young face gave no sign. Gianbattista had spoken quietly, and +was again intent upon his work. + +"If you gave me a proof of your sincerity," answered Marzio, in low +tones, "I would do much for you. Yes, I would give you Lucia--and the +business too, when I am too old to work. But it must be a serious +proof--no child's play." + +"What do you call a serious proof? A profession of faith?" + +"Yes--sealed with the red wax that is a little thicker than water," +answered Marzio grimly, his eyes still fixed on Gianbattista's face. + +"In blood," said the young man calmly. "Whose blood would you like, Sor +Marzio?" + +"Paolo's!" + +The chiseller spoke in a scarcely audible whisper, and bent low over +his slate, modelling hard at the figure under his fingers. + +"I thought so," muttered Gianbattista between his teeth. Then he raised +his voice a little and continued: "And have you the courage, Sor Marzio, +to sit there and bargain with me to kill your brother, bribing me with +the offer of your daughter's hand? Why do you not kill him yourself, +since you talk of such things?" + +"Nonsense, my dear Tista--I was only jesting," said the other nervously. +"It is just like your folly to take me in earnest." The anger had died +out of Marzio's voice and he spoke almost persuasively. + +"I do not know," answered the young man. "I think you were in earnest +for a moment. I would not advise you to talk in that way before any one +else. People might interpret your meaning seriously." + +"After all, you yourself were threatening to cut my throat last night," +said Marzio, with a forced laugh. "It is the same thing. My life is as +valuable as Paolo's. I only suggested that you should transfer your +tender attentions from me to my brother." + +"It is one thing to threaten a man to his face. It is quite another to +offer a man a serious inducement to commit murder. Since you have been +so very frank with me, Sor Marzio, I will confess that if the choice lay +between killing you, or killing Don Paolo, under the present +circumstances I would not hesitate a moment." + +"And which would you--" + +"Neither," replied the young man, with a cool laugh. "Don Paolo is too +good to be killed, and you are not good enough. Come and look at the +cherub's head I have made." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Lucia's cheerfulness was not genuine, and any one possessing greater +penetration than her mother would have understood that she was, in +reality, more frightened than she was willing to show. The girl had a +large proportion of common sense, combined with a quicker perception +than the stout Signora Pandolfi. She did not think that she knew +anything about logic, and she had always shown a certain inconsistency +in her affection for Gianbattista, but she had nevertheless a very clear +idea of what was reasonable, a quality which is of immense value in +difficulties, though it is very often despised in every-day life by +people who believe themselves blessed by the inspirations of genius. + +It seems very hard to make people of other nationalities understand that +the Italians of the present day are not an imaginative people. It is +nevertheless true, and it is only necessary to notice that they produce +few, if any, works of imagination. They have no writers of fiction, no +poets, few composers of merit and few artists who rank with those of +other nations. They possessed the creative faculty once; they have lost +it in our day, and it does not appear that they are likely to regain it. +On the other hand, the Italians are remarkable engineers, first-rate +mathematicians, clever, if unscrupulous, diplomatists. Though they +overrate their power and influence, they have shown a capacity for +organisation which is creditable on the whole. If they fail to obtain +the position they seek in Europe, their failure will have been due to +their inordinate vanity and over-governing, if I may coin the word, +rather than to an innate want of intelligence. + +The qualities and defects of the Italian nation all existed in the +Pandolfi family. Marzio possessed more imagination than most of his +countrymen, and he had, besides, that extraordinary skill in his manual +execution of his work, which Italians have often exhibited on a large +scale. On the other hand, he was full of bombastic talk about principles +which he called great. His views concerning society, government, and the +future of his country, were entirely without balance, and betrayed an +amazing ignorance of the laws which, direct the destinies of mankind. He +suffered in a remarkable degree from that mental disease which afflicts +Italians--the worship of the fetish--of words which mean little, and are +supposed to mean much, of names in history which have been exalted by +the rhetoric of demagogues from the obscurity to which they had been +wisely consigned by the judgment of scholars. He was alternately weak +and despotic, cunning about small things which concerned his own +fortunes, and amazingly foolish about the set of ideas which he loosely +defined as politics. + +Lucia's nature illustrated another phase of the Italian character, and +one which, if it is less remarkable, is much more agreeable. She +possessed the character which looks at everything from the point of view +of daily life. Without imagination, she regarded only the practical side +of existence. Her vanity was confined to a modest wish to make the best +of her appearance, while her ambition went no further than the strictest +possibility, in the shape of a marriage with Gianbattista Bordogni, and +a simple little apartment with a terrace and pots of pinks. Had she +known how much richer her father was than she suspected him of being, +the enlargement of her views for the future would have been marked by a +descent, from the fourth story of the house which was to be her +imaginary home, to the third story. It could never have entered her head +that Gianbattista ought to give up his profession until he was too old +to work any longer. In her estimation, the mere possession of money +could not justify a change of social position. She had been accustomed +from her childhood to hear her father air his views in regard to the +world in general, but his preaching had produced but little impression +upon her. When he thought she was listening in profound attention to his +discourse, she was usually wishing that he could be made to see the +absurdity of his theories. She wished also that he would sacrifice some +of his enthusiasm for the sake of a little more quiet in the house, for +she saw that his talking distressed her mother. Further than this she +cared little what he said, and not at all for what he thought. Her mind +was generally occupied with the one subject which absorbed her thoughts, +and which had grown to be by far the most important part of her nature, +her love for Gianbattista Bordogni. + +Upon that point she was inflexible. Her Uncle Paolo might have led her +to change her mind in regard to many things, for she was open to +persuasion where her common sense was concerned. But in her love for +Gianbattista she was fixed and determined. It would have been more easy +to turn her father from his ideas than to make Lucia give up the man she +loved. When Marzio had suddenly declared that she should marry the +lawyer, her first feeling had been one of ungovernable anger which had +soon found vent in tears. During the night she had thought the matter +over, and had come to the conclusion that it was only an evil jest, +invented by Marzio to give her pain. But in the morning it seemed to +her as though on the far horizon a black cloud of possible trouble were +gathering; she had admitted to herself that her father might be in +earnest, and she had felt something like the anticipation of the great +struggle of her life. Then she felt that she would die rather than +submit. + +She had no theatrical desire to swear a fearful oath with Gianbattista +that they should drown themselves at the Ponte Quattro Capi rather than +be separated. Her nature was not dramatic, any more than his. The young +girl dressed herself quickly, and made up her mind that if any pressure +were brought to bear upon her she would not yield, but that, until then, +there was no use in making phrases, and it would be better to be as +cheerful as possible under the circumstances. But for Lucia's reassuring +manner, the Signora Pandolfi would have doubtless succumbed to her +feelings and gone to bed. Lucia, however, had no intention of allowing +her mother any such weakness, and accordingly alternately comforted her +and suggested means of escape from the position, as though she were +herself the mother and Maria Luisa were her child. + +They found Don Paolo in his small lodging, and he bid them enter, that +they might all talk the matter over. + +"In the first place," said the priest, "it is wrong. In the second +place it is impossible. Thirdly, Marzio will not attempt to carry out +his threat." + +"Dear me! How simple you make it seem!" acclaimed the Signora Pandolfi, +reviving at his first words, like a tired horse when he sees the top of +the hill. + +"But if papa should try and force me to it--what then?" asked Lucia, who +was not so easily satisfied. + +"He cannot force you to it, my child--the law will not allow him to do +so. I told you so last night" + +"But the law is so far off--and he is so violent" answered the young +girl. + +"Never fear," said Don Paolo, reassuring her. "I will manage it all. +These will be a struggle, perhaps; but I will make him see reason. He +had been with his friends last night, and his mind was excited; he was +not himself. He will have thought differently of it this morning;" + +"On the contrary," put in the Signora Pandolfi, "he waked me up at +daylight and gave me a quantity of money to go and buy Lucia's outfit. +And he will come home at midday and ask to see the things I have +brought, and so I thought perhaps we had better buy something just to +show him--half a dozen handkerchiefs--something to make a figure, you +understand?" + +Don Paolo smiled, and Lucia looked sympathetically from him to her +mother. + +"I am afraid that half a dozen handkerchiefs would have a bad effect," +said the priest. "Either he would see that you are not in earnest, and +then he would be very angry, or else he would be deceived and would +think that you were really buying the outfit. In that case you would +have done harm. This thing must not go any further. The idea must be got +out of his head as soon as possible." + +"But if I do nothing at all before dinner he will be furious--he will +cry out that we are all banded together against him--" + +"So we are," said Don Paolo simply. + +"Oh dear, oh dear!" moaned the Signora Pandolfi, looking for her +handkerchief in the anticipation of fresh tears. + +"Do not cry, mamma. It is of no use," said Lucia. + +"No, it is of no use to cry," assented the priest. "There is nothing to +be done but to go and face Marzio, and not leave him until he has +changed his mind. You are afraid to meet him at midday. I will go now to +the workshop and find him." + +"Oh, you are an angel, Paolo!" cried Maria Luisa, regaining her +composure and replacing her handkerchief in her pocket. "Then we need +not buy anything? What a relief!" + +"I told you Uncle Paolo would know what to do," said Lucia. "He is so +good--and so courageous. I would not like to face papa this morning. +Will you really go, Uncle Paolo?" The young girl went and took down his +cloak and hat from a peg on the wall, and brought them to him. + +"Of course I will go, and at once," he answered. "But I must give you a +word of advice." + +"We will do everything you tell us," said the two women together. + +"You must not ask him any questions, nor refer to the matter at all when +he comes home." + +"Diana! I would as soon speak of death!" exclaimed the Signora Pandolfi. + +"And if he begins to talk about it you must not answer him, nor irritate +him in any way." + +"Be easy about that," answered the fat lady. "Never meddle with sleeping +dogs--I know." + +"If he grows very angry you must refer him to me." + +"Oh, but that is another matter! I would rather offer pepper to a cat +than talk to him of you. You would see how he would curse and swear and +call you by bad names." + +"Well, you must not do anything to make him swear, because that would be +a sin; but if he only abuses me, I do not mind. He will do that when I +talk to him. Perhaps after all, if he mentions the matter, you had +better remain silent." + +"Eh! that will be easy. He talks so much, and he talks so fast, never +waiting for an answer. But are you not afraid for yourself, dear Paolo?" + +"Oh, he will not hurt me--I am not afraid of him," answered the priest. +"He will talk a little, he will use some big words, and then it will be +finished. You see, it is not a great thing, after all. Take courage, +Maria Luisa, it will be a matter of half an hour." + +"Heaven grant it may be only that!" murmured Marzio's wife, turning up +her eyes, and rising from her chair. + +Lucia, who, as has been said, had a very keen appreciation of facts, did +not believe that things would go so smoothly. + +"You had better come back with him to our house when it is all over," +she said, "just to give us a sign that it is settled, you know, Uncle +Paolo." + +Don Paolo himself had his doubts about the issue, although he put such a +brave face on it, and in spite of the Signora Pandolfi. That good lady +was by nature very sincere, but she always seemed to bring an irrelevant +and comic element into the proceedings. + +The result of the interview was that, in half an hour, Don Paolo knocked +at the door of the workshop in the Via dei Falegnami, where Marzio and +Gianbattista were at work. The chiseller's voice bade him enter. + +Don Paolo had not found much time to collect his thoughts before he +reached the scene of battle, but his opinion of the matter in hand was +well formed. He loved his niece, and he had begun to like Gianbattista. +He knew the lawyer, Carnesecchi, by reputation, and what he had heard of +him did not prejudice him in the man's favour. It would have been the +same had Marzio chosen any one else. In the priest's estimation, +Gianbattista had a right to expect the fulfilment of the many promises +which had been made to him. To break those promises for no ostensible +reason, just as Gianbattista seemed to be growing up to be a sensible +man, was an act of injustice which Don Paolo would not permit if he +could help it. Gianbattista was not, perhaps, a model man, but, by +contrast with Marzio, he seemed almost saintly. He had a good +disposition and no vices; married to Lucia and devoted to his art, much +might be expected of him. On the other hand, Gasparo Carnesecchi +represented the devil in person. He was known to be an advanced +freethinker, a radical, and, perhaps, worse than a radical--a socialist. +He was certainly not very rich, and Lucia's dowry would be an object to +him; he would doubtless spend the last copper of the money in attempting +to be elected to the Chambers. If he succeeded, he would represent +another unit in that ill-guided minority which has for its sole end the +subversion of the existing state of things. He would probably succeed in +getting back the money he had spent, and more also, by illicit means. If +he failed, the money would be lost, and he would go from bad to worse, +intriguing and mixing himself up with the despicable radical press, in +the hope of getting a hearing and a place. + +There is a scale in the meaning of the word socialist. In France it +means about the same thing as a communist, when one uses plain language. +When one uses the language of Monsieur Dramont, it means a Jew. In +England a socialist is equal to a French conservative republican. In +America it means a thief. In Germany it means an ingenious individual of +restricted financial resources, who generally fails to blow up some +important personage with wet dynamite. In Italy a socialist is an +anarchist pure and simple, who wishes to destroy everything existing for +the sake of dividing a wealth which does not exist at all. It also means +a young man who orders a glass of water and a toothpick at a _cafe_, and +is able to talk politics for a considerable time on this slender +nourishment. Signor Succi and Signor Merlatti have discovered nothing +new. Their miracles of fasting may be observed by the curious at any +time in a Roman _cafe_. + +Don Paolo regarded the mere idea of an alliance with Gasparo +Carnesecchi as an outrage upon common sense, and when he entered +Marzio's workshop he was determined to say so. Marzio looked up with an +air of inquiry, and Gianbattista foresaw what was coming. He nodded to +the priest, and brought forward the old straw chair from the corner; +then he returned to his work in silence. + +"You will have guessed my errand," Don Paolo began, by way of +introducing his subject. + +"No," answered Marzio doggedly. "Something about the crucifix, I +suppose." + +"Not at all," returned the priest, folding his hands over the handle of +his umbrella. "A much more delicate matter. You suggested last night an +improbable scheme for marrying Lucia." + +"You had better say that I told you plainly what I mean to do. If you +have come to talk about that, you had better talk to the workmen +outside. They may answer you. I will not!" + +Don Paolo was not to be so easily put off. He waited a moment as though +to give Marzio time to change his mind, and then proceeded. + +"There are three reasons why this marriage will not take place," he +said. "In the first place, it is wrong--that is my point of view. In the +second place, it is impossible--and that is the view the law takes of +it. Thirdly, it will not take place because you will not attempt to push +it. What do you say of my reasons, Marzio?" + +"They are worthy of you," answered the artist. "In the first place, I do +not care a fig for what you think is wrong, or right either. Secondly, I +will take the law into my own hands. Thirdly, I will bring it about and +finish it in a fortnight; and fourthly, you may go to the devil! What do +you think of my reasons, Paolo? They are better than yours, and much +more likely to prevail." + +"My dear Marzio," returned the priest quietly, "you may say anything you +please, I believe, in these days of liberty. But the law will not permit +you to act upon your words. If you can persuade your daughter to marry +Gasparo Carnesecchi of her own free will, well and good. If you cannot, +there is a statute, I am quite sure, which forbids your dragging her up +the steps of the Capitol, and making her sign her name by force or +violence in the presence of the authorities. You may take my word for +it; and so you had better dismiss the matter from your mind at once, and +think no more about it." + +"I remember that you told her so last night," growled Marzio, growing +pale with anger. + +"Certainly." + +"You--you--you priest!" cried the chiseller, unable in his rage to find +an epithet which he judged more degrading. Don Paolo smiled. + +"Yes, I am a priest," he answered calmly. + +"Yea, you are a priest," yelled Marzio, "and what is to become of +paternal authority in a household where such fellows as you are +listening at the keyholes? Is a man to have no more rights? Are we to be +ruled by women and creatures in petticoats? Viper! Poisoning my +household, teaching my daughter to disobey me, my wife to despise me, my +paid workmen to--" + +"Silence!" cried Gianbattista in ringing tones, and with the word he +sprang to his feet and clapped his hand on Marzio's mouth. + +The effect was sudden and unexpected. Marzio was utterly taken by +surprise. It was incredible to him that any one should dare to forcibly +prevent him from indulging in the language he had used with impunity for +so many years. He leaned back pale and astonished, and momentarily dumb +with amazement. Gianbattista stood over him, his young cheeks flushed +with anger, and his broad fist clenched. + +"If you dare to talk in that way to Don Paolo, I will kill you with my +hands!" he said, his voice sinking lower with concentrated +determination. "I have had enough of your foul talk. He is a better man +than you, as I told you last night, and I repeat it now--take care--" + +Marzio made a movement as though he would rise, and at the same instant +Gianbattista seized the long, fine-pointed punch, which served for the +eyes of the cherubs--a dangerous weapon in a determined hand. + +Don Paolo had risen from his chair, and was trying to push himself +between the two. But Gianbattista would not let him. + +"For heaven's sake," cried the priest in great distress, "no violence, +Tista--I will call the men--" + +"Never fear," answered the apprentice quietly; "the man is a coward." + +"To me--you dare to say that to me!" exclaimed Marzio, drawing back at +the same time. + +"Yes--it is quite true. But do not suppose that I think any the worse of +you on that account, Sor Marzio." + +With this taunt, delivered in a voice that expressed the most profound +contempt, Gianbattista went back to his seat and took up his hammer as +though nothing had happened. Don Paolo drew a long breath of relief. As +for Marzio, his teeth chattered with rage. His weakness had been +betrayed at last, and by Gianbattista. All his life he had succeeded in +concealing the physical fear which his words belied. He had cultivated +the habit of offering to face danger, speaking of it in a quiet way, as +he had observed that brave men did. He had found it good policy to tell +people that he was not afraid of them, and his bearing had hitherto +saved him from physical violence. Now he felt as though all his nerves +had been drawn out of his body. He had been terrified, and he knew that +he had shown it. Gianbattista's words stung in his ears like the sting +of wasps. + +"You shall never enter this room again," he hissed out between his +teeth. The young man shrugged his shoulders as though he did not care. +Don Paolo sat down again and grasped his umbrella. + +"Gianbattista," said the priest, "I am grateful to you for your +friendship, my boy. But it is very wrong to be violent--" + +"It is one of the seven deadly sins!" cried Marzio, finding his voice at +last, and by a strange accident venting his feelings in a sentence which +might have been spoken by a confessor to a penitent. + +Gianbattista could not help laughing, but he shook his head as though to +explain that it was not his fault if he was violent with such a man. + +"It is very wrong to threaten people, Tista," repeated Don Paolo; "and +besides it does not hurt me, what Marzio says. Let us all be calm. +Marzio, let us discuss this matter reasonably. Tista, do not be angry at +anything that is said. There is nothing to be done but to look at the +question quietly." + +"It is very well for you to talk like that," grumbled Marzio, +pretending to busy himself over his model in order to cover his +agitation. + +"It is of no use to talk in any other way," answered the priest "I +return to the subject. I only want to convince you that you will find it +impossible to carry out your determination by force. You have only to +ask the very man you have hit upon, the Avvocato Garnesecchi, and he +will tell you the same thing. He knows the law better than you or I. He +will refuse to be a party to such an attempt. Ask him, if you do not +believe me." + +"Yes; a pretty position you want to put me in, by the body of a dog! To +ask a man to marry my daughter by force! A fine opinion he would +conceive of my domestic authority! Perhaps you will take upon yourself +to go and tell him--won't you, dear Paolo? It would save me the +trouble." + +"I think that is your affair," answered Don Paolo, taking him in +earnest. "Nevertheless, if you wish it--" + +"Oh, this is too much!" cried Marzio, his anger rising again. "It is not +enough that you thwart me at every turn, but you come here to mock me, +to make a figure of me! Take care, Paolo, take care! You may go too +far." + +"I would not advise you to go too far, Sor Marzio," put in +Gianbattista, turning half round on his stool. + +"Cannot I speak without being interrupted? Go on with your work, Tista, +and let us talk this matter out. I tell you, Paolo, that I do not want +your advice, and that I have had far too much of your interference. I +will inquire into this matter, so far as it concerns the law, and I will +show you that I am right, in spite of all your surmises and prophecies. +A man is master in his own house and must remain so, whatever laws are +made. There is no law which can force a man to submit to the dictation +of his brother--even if his brother is a priest." + +Marzio spoke more calmly than he had done hitherto, in spite of the +sneer in the last sentence. He had broken down, and he felt that Paolo +and Gianbattista were too much for him. He desired no repetition of the +scene which had passed, and he thought the best thing to be done was to +temporise for a while. + +"I am glad you are willing to look into the matter," answered Don Paolo. +"I am quite sure you will soon be convinced." + +Marzio was silent, and it was evident that the interview was at an end. +Don Paolo was tolerably well satisfied, for he had gained at least one +point in forcing his brother to examine the question. He remained a +moment in his seat, reviewing the situation, and asking himself whether +there was anything more to be said. He wished indeed that he could +produce some deeper impression on the artist. It was not enough, from +the moral point of view, that Marzio should be made to see the +impossibility of his scheme, although it was as much as could be +expected. The good man wished with all his heart that Marzio could be +softened a little, that he might be made to consider his daughter's +feelings, to betray some sign of an affection which seemed wholly dead, +to show some more human side of his character. But the situation at +present forbade Don Paolo from making any further effort. The presence +of Gianbattista, who had suddenly constituted himself the priest's +defender, was a constraint. Alone with his brother, Marzio might +possibly have exhibited some sensibility, but while the young man who +had violently silenced him a few moments earlier was looking on, the +chiseller would continue to be angry, and would not forget the +humiliation he had suffered. There was nothing more to be done at +present, and Don Paolo prepared to take his departure, gathering his +cloak around him, and smoothing the felt of his three-cornered hat while +he held his green umbrella under his arm. + +"Are you going already, Don Paolo?" asked Gianbattista, rising to open +the door. + +"Yes, I must go. Good-bye, Marzio. Bear me no ill-will for pressing you +to be cautious. Good-bye, Tista." He pressed the young man's hand +warmly, as though to thank him for his courageous defence, and then left +the workshop. Marzio paid no attention to his departure. When the door +was closed, and as Gianbattista was returning to his bench, the artist +dropped his modelling tools and faced his apprentice. + +"You may go too," he said in a low tone, as though he were choking. "I +mean you may go for good. I do not need you any longer." + +He felt in his pocket for his purse, opened it, and took out some small +notes. + +"I give you an hour to take your things from my house," he continued. +"There are your wages--you shall not tell the priest that I cheated +you." + +Gianbattista stood still in the middle of the room while Marzio held out +the money to him. A hot flush rose to his young forehead, and he seemed +on the point of speaking, but the words did not pass his lips. With a +quick step he came forward, took the notes from Marzio's hand, and +crumpling them in his fingers, threw them in his face with all his +might. Then he turned on his heel, spat on the floor of the room, and +went out before Marzio could find words to resent the fresh insult. + +The door fell back on the latch and Marzio was alone. He was very pale, +and for a moment his features worked angrily. Then a cruel smile passed +over his face. He stooped down, picked up the crumpled notes, counted +them, and replaced them in his purse. The economical instinct never +forsook him, and he did the thing mechanically. Glancing at the bench +his eyes fell on the pointed punch which Gianbattista had taken up in +his anger. He felt it carefully, handled it, looked at it, smiled again +and put it into his pocket. + +"It is not a bad one," he muttered. "How many cherubs' eyes I have made +with that thing!" + +He turned to the slate and examined the rough model he had made in wax, +flat still, and only indicated by vigorous touches, the red material +smeared on the black surface all around it by his fingers. There was +force in the figure, even in its first state, and there was a strange +pathos in the bent head, the only part as yet in high relief. But Marzio +looked at it angrily. He turned it to the light, closed his eyes a +moment, looked at it again, and then, with an incoherent oath, his long, +discoloured hand descended on the model, and, with a heavy pressure and +one strong push, flattened out what he had done, and smeared it into a +shapeless mass upon the dark stone. + +"I shall never do it," he said in a low voice. "They have destroyed my +idea." + +For some minutes he rested his head in his hand in deep thought. At +last he rose and went to a corner of the workshop in which stood a +heavily ironed box. Marzio fumbled in his pocket till he found a key, +bright from always being carried about with him, and contrasting oddly +with the rusty lock into which he thrust it. It turned with difficulty +in his nervous fingers, and he raised the heavy lid. The coffer was full +of packages wrapped in brown paper. He removed one after another till he +came to a wooden case which filled the whole length and breadth of the +safe. He lifted it out carefully and laid it on the end of the bench. +The cover was fastened down by screws, and he undid them one by one +until it moved and came off in his hands. The contents were wrapped +carefully in a fine towel, which had once been white, but which had long +grown yellow with age. Marzio unfolded the covering with a delicate +touch as though he feared to hurt what was within. He took out a large +silver crucifix, raising it carefully, and taking care not to touch the +figure. He stood it upon the bench before him, and sat down to examine +it. + +It was a work of rare beauty, which he had made more than ten years +before. With the strange reticent instinct which artists sometimes feel +about their finest works, he had finished it in secret, working at night +alone, and when it was done he had put it away. It was his greatest +feat, he had said to himself, and, as from time to time he took it out +and looked at it, he gradually grew less and less inclined to show it to +any one, resolving to leave it in its case, until it should be found +after his death. It had seemed priceless to him, and he would not sell +it. With a fantastic eccentricity of reasoning he regarded it as a +sacred thing, to part with which would be a desecration. So he kept it. +Then, taking it out again, it had seemed less good to him, as his mind +became occupied with other things, and he had fancied he should do +better yet. At last he screwed it up in a wooden case and put it at the +bottom of his strong box, resolving never to look at it again. Many +years had passed since he had laid eyes upon it. + +The idea which had come to him when Paolo had communicated the order to +him on the previous evening, had seemed absolutely new. It had appeared +to him as a glorification of the work he had executed in secret so long +ago. Time, and the habit of dissatisfaction had effaced from his mind +the precise image of the work of the past, and the emotions of the +present had seemed something new to him. He had drawn and modelled +during many hours, and yet he was utterly disappointed with the new +result. He felt the innate consciousness of having done it before, and +of having done it better. + +And now the wonderful masterpiece of his earlier years stood before +him--the tall and massive ebony cross, bearing the marvellous figure of +the dead Saviour. A ray of sunlight fell through the grated window upon +the dying head, illuminating the points of the thorns in the crown, the +falling locks of hair, the tortured hands, and casting a shadow of death +beneath the half-closed eyes. + +For several minutes Marzio sat motionless on his stool, realising the +whole strength and beauty of what he had done ten years before. Then he +wanted to get a better view of it. It was not high enough above him, for +it was meant to stand upon an altar. He could not see the face. He +looked about for something upon which to make it stand, but nothing was +near. He pushed away his stool, and turning the cross a little, so that +the sunlight should strike it at a better angle, he kneeled down on the +floor, his hands resting on the edge of the bench, and he looked up at +the image of the dead Christ. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +When Don Paolo left the workshop, he immediately crossed over and +entered the street door of Marzio's house, intending to tell Maria Luisa +and Lucia the result of the interview. He had not got to the top of the +first flight of stairs when he heard Gianbattista's step behind him, and +turning he saw the young man's angry face. + +"What is the matter, Tista?" asked the priest, stopping on the steps and +laying his hand on the iron railing. + +"I am discharged, turned out, insulted by that animal!" answered the +apprentice hotly. "He is like a piece of wood! You might as well talk to +a wall! You had only just closed the door when he pulled out his purse, +counted my wages, and told me to take my things from his house in an +hour. I threw the money in his face--the beast!" + +"Hush, Tista," said Don Paolo. "Do not be angry--we will arrange it all +before night. He cannot do without you, and after all it is my fault. +Calm yourself, Tista, my boy--we will soon set that straight." + +"Yes--in an hour I will have left the house. Then it will be straight +enough, as you call it. Oh! I would like to strangle him! Dear Don +Paolo, nobody but you can arrange this affair--" + +"Hush, hush, Tista. I cannot hear you talk in this way. Come, we will go +back to Marzio. He will listen to reason--" + +"Do you know what he said to me not a quarter of an hour before you came +in?" asked Gianbattista quickly, laying his hand on the priest's arm. +"He said I might have Lucia and welcome if I would kill you! Do you +understand? I wish you could have seen the look in his eyes!" + +"No, no, my boy--he was angry. He did not mean it." + +"Mean it! Bacchus! He would kill you himself if he were not such a +dastardly coward!" + +Don Paolo shook his head with an incredulous smile, and looked kindly +into the young man's eyes. + +"You have all lost your heads over this unfortunate affair, Tista. You +are all talking of killing each other and yourselves as though it were +as simple as 'good-morning.' It is very wrong to talk of such things, +and besides, you know, it is not really worth while--" + +"It seems simple enough to me," answered the young man, frowning and +clenching his hand. + +"Come with me," urged the other, making as though he would descend the +steps. "Come back to the workshop, and we will talk it all over." + +"Wait a minute, Don Paolo. There is one thing--one favour I want to ask +of you." Gianbattista lowered his voice. "You can do it for us--I am +sure you will. I will call Lucia, and we will go with you--" + +"Where?" asked the priest, not understanding the look of the young man. + +"To church, of course. You can marry us in ten minutes, and the thing +will be all over. Then we can laugh at Sor Marzio." + +Don Paolo smiled. + +"My dear boy," he answered, "those things are not done in a moment like +roasting chestnuts. There are banns to be published. There is a civil +marriage at the Capitol--" + +"I should be quite satisfied with your benediction--a _Pater Noster_, an +_Oremus_ properly said--eh? Would it not be all right?" + +"Really, Tista!" exclaimed the good man, holding up his hands in horror. +"I had no idea that your religious education had been so neglected! My +dear child, marriage is a very solemn thing." + +"By Diana! I should think so! But that need not make it such a long +ceremony. A man dies in a moment--_paff!_--the light is out!--you are +dead. It is very solemn. The same thing for marriage. The priest looks +at you, says _Oremus_--_paff!_ You are married, and it cannot be undone! +I know it is very serious, but it is only the affair of a moment." + +Don Paolo did not know whether to laugh or to look grave at this +exposition of Gianbattista's views of death and matrimony. He put it +down to the boy's excitement. + +"There is another reason, Tista. The law does not allow a girl of +seventeen to be married without her father's consent." + +"The law again!" exclaimed Gianbattista in disgust. "I thought the law +protected Lucia from her father. You said so last night, and you +repeated it this morning." + +"Certainly, my boy. But the law also protects parents against any +rashness their children may meditate. It would be no marriage if Lucia +had not Marzio's consent." + +"I wish there were no laws," grumbled the young man. "How do you come to +know so much about marriage, Don Paolo?" + +"It is my profession. Come along; we will talk to Marzio." + +"What can we say to him? You do not suppose I will go and beg to be +taken back?" + +"You must be forgiving--" + +"I believe in forgiveness when the other side begins," said +Gianbattista. + +"Perhaps Marzio will forgive too," argued the priest. + +"He has nothing to forgive," answered the young man. The reasoning +seemed to him beyond refutation. + +"But if he says he has no objection, if he begs you to come back, I +think you might make some advance on your side, Tista. Besides, you were +very rough with him this morning." + +"He turned me out like a dog--after all these years," said Gianbattista. +"I will go back and work for him on one condition. He must give me Lucia +at once." + +"I am afraid that as a basis of negotiations that plan leaves much to be +desired," replied Don Paolo, in a meditative tone. "Of course, we are +all determined that you shall marry her in the end; but unless +Providence is pleased to change Marzio's state of mind, you may have to +wait until she is of age. He will never consent at present." + +"In that case I had better go and take my things away from his house," +returned the apprentice. "And say good-bye to Lucia--for a day or two," +he added in a low voice. + +"Of course, if you will not agree to be conciliatory it is of no use for +you to come with me," said Don Paolo rather sadly. "Dear me! Here comes +Maria Luisa with Suntarella!" + +"Ah, dear Paolo, dear Paolo!" cried the stout lady, puffing up the +stairs with the old woman close behind her. "How good you are! And what +did he say? We asked if you had gone at the workshop, and they said you +had, so Lucia went in to ask her father whether he would have the +chickens boiled or roasted. Well, well, tell me all about it. These +stairs! Suntarella, run up and open the door while I get my breath! Dear +Paolo, you are an angel of goodness!" + +"Softly, Maria Luisa," answered the priest. "There is good and bad. He +has admitted that he will have to consider the matter because he cannot +make Lucia marry without her consent. But on the other hand--poor +Tista--" he looked at the young man and hesitated. + +"He has turned me out," said Gianbattista. "He has given me an hour to +leave his house. I believe a good part of the hour has passed already--" + +"And Tista says he will not go back at any price," put in Don Paolo. The +Signora Pandolfi gasped for breath. + +"Oh! oh! I shall faint!" she sobbed, pressing the handle of her parasol +against her breast with both hands. "Oh, what shall we do? We are lost! +Paolo, your arm--I shall die!" + +"Courage, courage, Maria Luisa," said the priest kindly. "We will find +a remedy. For the present Tista can come to my house. There is the +little room Where the man-servant sleeps, who is gone to see his sick +wife in the country. The Cardinal will not mind." + +"But you are not going like tins?" cried the stout lady, grasping +Gianbattista's arm and looking into his face with an expression of +forlorn bewilderment. "You cannot go to-day--it is impossible, +Tista--your shirts are not even ironed! Oh dear I oh dear! And I had +anticipated a feast because I was sure that Marzio would see reason +before midday, and there are chickens for dinner--with rice, Tista, just +as you like them--oh, you cannot go, Tista, I cannot let you go!" + +"Courage, Maria Luisa," exhorted Don Paolo. "It is not a question of +chickens." + +"Dear Sora Luisa, you are too good," said Gianbattista. "Let us go +upstairs first, to begin with--you will catch cold here on the steps. +Come, come, courage, Sora Luisa!" + +He took the good woman's arm and led her upwards. But Don Paolo stayed +behind. He believed it to be his duty to return to the workshop, and to +try and undo the harm Gianbattista had done himself by the part he had +played in the proceedings of the morning. The Signora Pandolfi suffered +herself to be led upstairs, panting and sobbing as she went, and +protesting still that Gianbattista could not possibly be allowed to +leave the house. + +When Don Paolo had parted from the two women an hour earlier, they had +not gone home as he had supposed, but, chancing to meet old Assunta near +the house, the three had gone together to make certain necessary +purchases. On their return they had inquired for Paolo at the workshop, +as Maria Luisa had explained, and Lucia had entered in the confident +expectation of finding that the position of things had mended +considerably since the early morning. Moreover, since the announcement +of the previous evening, the young girl had not seen her father alone. +She wanted to talk to him on her own account, in order to sound the +depth of his determination. She was not afraid of him. The fact that for +a long time he had regarded favourably the project of her marriage with +Gianbattista had given her a confidence which was not to be destroyed in +a moment, even by Marzio's strange conduct. She passed through the outer +rooms, nodding to the workmen, who touched their caps to the master's +daughter. A little passage separated the large workshop from the inner +studio. The door at the end was not quite closed. Lucia went up to it, +and looked through the opening to see whether Gianbattista were with her +father. The sight she saw was so surprising that she leaned against the +door-post for support. She could not believe her eyes. + +There was her father in his woollen blouse, kneeling, on the brick floor +of the room, before a crucifix, his back turned towards her, his hands +raised, and, as it seemed from the position of the arms, folded in +prayer. The sunlight fell upon the silver figure, and upon the dark +tangled hair of the artist who remained motionless, as though absorbed +in devotion, while his daughter watched him through the half-open door. +The scene was one which would have struck any one; the impression it +made on Lucia was altogether extraordinary. She easily fancied that +Marzio, after his interview with Don Paolo, had felt a great and sudden +revulsion of sentiment. She knew that the priest had not left the studio +many minutes before, and she saw her father apparently praying before a +crucifix. A wonderful conversion had been effected, and the result was +there manifest to the girl's eyes. + +She held her breath, and remained at the door, determined not to move +until Marzio should have risen from his knees. To interrupt him at such +a moment would have been almost a sacrilege; it might produce the most +fatal results; it would be an intrusion upon the privacy of a repentant +man. She stood watching and waiting to see what would happen. + +Presently Marzio moved. Lucia thought he was going to rise from his +knees, but she was surprised to see that he only changed the position of +the crucifix with one hand. He approached his head so near the lower +part of it that Lucia fancied he was in the act of pressing his lips +upon the crossed feet of the silver Christ. Then he drew back a little, +turned his head to one side, and touched the figure with his right hand. +It was evident, now, that he was no longer praying, but that something +about the workmanship had attracted his attention. + +How natural, the girl said to herself, that this man, even in such a +supreme moment, should not forget his art--that, even in prayer, his +eyes should mechanically detect an error of the chisel, a flaw in the +metal, or some such detail familiar to his daily life. She did not think +the worse of him for it. He was an artist! The habit of his whole +existence could not cease to influence him--he could as soon have ceased +to breathe. Lucia watched him and felt something like love for her +father. Her sympathy was with him in both actions; in his silent prayer, +in the inner privacy of his working-room, as well as in the inherent +love of his art, from which he could not escape even when he was doing +something contrary to the whole tenor of his life. Lucia thought how Don +Paolo's face would light up when she should tell him of what she had +seen. Then she wondered, with a delicate sense of respect for her +father's secret feelings, whether she would have the right to tell any +one what she had accidentally seen through the half-closed door of the +studio. + +Marzio moved again, and this time he rose to his feet and remained +standing, so that the crucifix was completely hidden from her view. She +knocked at the door. Her father turned suddenly round, and faced the +entrance, still hiding the crucifix by his figure. + +"Who is it?" he asked in a tone that sounded as though he were startled. + +"Lucia," answered the girl timidly. "May I come in, papa?" + +"Wait a minute," he answered. She drew back, and, still watching him, +saw that he laid the cross down upon the table, and covered it with a +towel--the same one in which it had been wrapped. + +"Come in," he called out "What is the matter?" + +"I only came for a moment, papa," answered Lucia, entering the room and +glancing about her as she came forward. "Mamma sent me in to ask you +about the chickens--there are chickens for dinner--she wanted to know +whether you would like them roasted or boiled with rice." + +"Roasted," replied Marzio, taking up a chisel and pretending to be busy. +"It is Gianbattista who likes them boiled." + +"Thank you, I will go home and tell her. Papa--" the girl hesitated. + +"What is the matter?" + +"Papa, you are not angry any more as you were last night?" + +"Angry? No. What makes you ask such a question? I was not angry last +night, and I am not angry now. Who put the idea into your head?" + +"I am so glad," answered Lucia. "Not with me, not with Tista? I am so +glad! Where is Tista, papa?" + +"I have not the slightest idea. You will probably not see Tista any +more, nor Gianbattista, nor his excellency the Signorino Bordogni" + +Lucia turned suddenly pale, and rested her hand upon the old straw chair +on which Don Paolo had sat during his visit. + +"What is this? What do you tell me? Not see Tista?" she asked quickly. + +"Gianbattista had the bad taste to attack me this morning--here--in my +own studio," said Marzio, turning round and facing his daughter. "He put +his hands upon my face, do you understand? He would have stabbed me with +a chisel if Paolo had not interfered. Do you understand that? Out of +deference for your affections I did not kill him, as I might have done. +I dismissed him from my service, and gave him an hour to take his +effects out of my house. Is that clear? I offered him his money. He +threw it in my face and spat at me as he went out. Is that enough? If I +find him at home when I come to dinner I will have him turned out by the +police. You see, you are not likely to set eyes on him for a day or two. +You may go home and tell your mother the news, if she has not heard it +already. It will be sauce for her chickens." + +Lucia leaned upon the chair during this speech, her black eyes growing +wider and wider, and her face turning whiter at every word. To her it +seemed, in this first moment, like a hopeless separation from the man +she loved. With a sudden movement she sprang forward, and fell on her +knees at Marzio's feet. + +"Oh, my father, I beseech you, in the name of heaven," she cried wildly. + +"It is not of the slightest use," answered Marzio, drawing back. Lucia +knelt for one moment before him, with upturned face, an expression of +imploring despair on her features. Then she sank down in a heap upon the +floor against the three-legged stool, which tottered, lost its balance +under her weight, and fell over upon the bricks with a loud crash. The +poor girl had fainted away. + +Marzio was startled by the sight and the sound, and then, seeing what +had happened, he was very much frightened. He knelt down beside his +daughter's prostrate body and bent over her face. He raised her up in +his long, nervous arms, and lifted her to the old chair till she sat +upon it, and he supported her head and body, kneeling on the floor +beside her. A sharp pain shot through his heart, the faint indication of +a love not wholly extinguished. + +"Lucia, dear Lucia!" he said, in a voice so tender that it sounded +strangely in his own ears. But the gill gave no sign. Her head would +have fallen forward if he had not supported it with his hands. + +"My daughter! Little Lucia! You are not dead--tell me you are not dead!" +he cried. In his fright and sudden affection he pressed his lips to her +face, kissing her again and again. "I did not mean to hurt you, darling +child," he repeated, as though she could hear him speak. + +At last her eyes opened. A shiver ran through her body and she raised +her head. She was very pale as she leaned back in the chair. Marzio took +her hands and robbed them between his dark fingers, still looking into +her eyes. + +"Ah!" she gasped, "I thought I was dead." Then, as Marzio seemed about +to speak, she added faintly: "Don't say it again!" + +"Lucia--dear Lucia! I knew you were not dead I knew you would come back +to me," he said, still in very tender tones. "Forgive me, child--I did +not mean to hurt you." + +"No? Oh, papa! Then why did you say it?" she cried, suddenly bursting +into tears and weeping upon his shoulder. "Tell me it is not true--tell +me so!" she sobbed. + +Marzio was almost as much disconcerted by Lucia's return to +consciousness as he had been by her fainting away. His nature had +unbent, momentarily, under the influence of his strong fear for his +daughter's life. Now that she had recovered so quickly, he remembered +Gianbattista's violence and scornful words, and he seemed to feel the +young man's strong hand upon his mouth, stifling his speech. He +hesitated, rose to his feet, and began to pace the floor. Lucia watched +him with intense anxiety. There was a conflict in his mind between the +resentment which was not half an hour old, and the love for his child, +which had been so quickly roused during the last five minutes. + +"Well--Lucia, my dear--I do not know--" he stopped short in his walk and +looked at her. She leaned forward as though to catch his words. + +"Do you think you could not--that you would be so very unhappy, I mean, +if he lived out of the house--I mean to say, if he had lodgings, +somewhere, and came back to work?" + +"Oh, papa--I should faint away again--and I should die. I am quite sure +of it." + +Marzio looked anxiously at her, as though he expected to see her fall to +the ground a second time. It went against the grain of his nature to +take Gianbattista back, although he had discharged him hastily in the +anger of the moment. He turned away and glanced at the bench. There were +the young man's tools, the hammer as he had left it, the piece of work +on the leathern pad. The old impulse of foresight for the future acted +in Marzio's mind. He could never find such another workman. In the +uncertainty of the moment, as often happens, details rose to his +remembrance and produced their effect. He recollected the particular way +in which Gianbattista used to hold the blunt chisel in first tracing +over the drawing on a silver plate. He had never seen any one do it in +the same way. + +"Well, Lucia--don't faint away. If you can make him stay, I will take +him back. But I am afraid you will have hard work. He will make +difficulties. He threw the money in my face, Lucia--in your father's +face, girl! Think of that. Well, well, do what you like. He is a good +workman. Go away, child, and leave me to myself. What will you say to +him?" + +Lucia threw her arms round her father's neck and kissed him in her +sudden joy. Then she stood a moment in thought. + +"Give me his money," she said. "If he will take the money he will come +back." + +Marzio hesitated, slowly drew out his purse, and began to take out the +notes. + +"Well--if you will have it so," he grumbled. "After all, as he threw it +away, I do not see that he has much right to it. There it is. If he says +anything about that ten-franc note being torn, tell him he tore it +himself. Go home, Lucia, and manage things as you can." + +Lucia put the money in her glove, and busied herself for a moment in +brushing the dust from her clothes. Mechanically, her father helped her. + +"You are quite sure you did not hurt yourself?" he asked. The whole +occurrence seemed indistinct, as though some one had told something +which he had not understood--as we sometimes listen to a person reading +aloud, and, missing by inattention the verb of the sentence, remain +confused, and ask ourselves what the words mean. + +"No--not at all. It is nothing," answered Lucia, and in a moment she was +at the door. + +Opening it to go out, she saw the tall figure of Don Paolo at the other +end of the passage coming rapidly towards her. She raised her finger to +her lips and nodded, as though to explain that everything was settled, +and that the priest should not speak to Marzio. She, of course, did not +know that he had been talking with Gianbattista and her mother, nor that +he knew anything about the apprentice's dismissal. She only feared fresh +trouble, now that the prospect looked so much clearer, in case Don Paolo +should again attack her father upon the subject of the marriage. But her +uncle came forward and made as though he would enter the workshop. + +"It is all settled," she said quietly. Don Paolo looked at her in +astonishment. At that moment Marzio caught sight of him over the girl's +shoulder, in the dusky entrance. + +"Come in, Paolo," he called out "I have something to show you. Go home, +Lucia, my child." + +Not knowing what to expect, and marvelling at the softened tone of his +brother's voice, Don Paolo entered the room, waited till Lucia was out +of the passage, and then closed the door behind him. He stood in the +middle of the floor, grasping his umbrella in his hand and wondering +upon what new phase the business was entering. + +"I have something to show you," Marzio repeated, as though to check any +question which the priest might be going to put to him. "You asked me +for a crucifix last night. I have one here. Will it do! Look at it." + +While speaking, Marzio had uncovered the cross and lifted it up, so that +it stood on the bench where he had at first placed it to examine it +himself. Then he stepped back and made way for Don Paolo. The priest +stood for a moment speechless before the masterpiece, erect, his hands +folded before him. Then, as though recollecting himself, he took off his +hat, which he had forgotten to remove on entering the workshop. + +"What a miracle!" he exclaimed, in a low voice. + +Marzio stood a little behind him, his hands in the pockets of his +woollen blouse. A long silence followed. Don Paolo could not find words +to express his admiration, and his wonder was mixed with a profound +feeling of devotion. The amazing reality of the figure, clothed at the +same time in a sort of divine glory, impressed itself upon him as he +gazed, and roused that mystical train of religious contemplation which +is both familiar and dear to devout persons. He lost himself in his +thoughts, and his refined features showed as in a mirror the current of +his meditation. The agony of the Saviour of mankind was renewed before +him, culminating in the sacrifice upon the cross. Involuntarily Paolo +bent his head and repeated in low tones the words of the Creed, "_Qui +propter nos homines et propter_ _nostram, salutem descendit de +coelis_," and then, "_Crucifixus etiam pro nobis_." + +Marzio stood looking on, his hands in his pockets. His fingers grasped +the long sharp punch he had taken from the table after Gianbattista's +departure. His eyes fixed themselves upon the smooth tonsure at the back +of Paolo's head, and slowly his right hand issued from his pocket with +the sharp instrument firmly clenched in it. He raised it to the level of +his head, just above that smooth shaven circle in the dark hair. His +eyes dilated and his mouth worked nervously as the pale lips stretched +themselves across the yellow teeth. + +Don Paolo moved, and turned to speak to his brother concerning the work +of art. Seeing Marzio's attitude, he started with a short cry and +stretched out his arm as though to parry a blow. + +"Marzio!" + +The artist had quickly brought his hand to his forehead, and the ghastly +affectation of a smile wreathed about his white lips. His voice was +thick. + +"I was only shading my eyes from the sun. Don't you see how it dazzles +me, reflected from the silver? What did you imagine, Paolo? You look +frightened." + +"Oh, nothing," answered the priest bravely. "Perhaps I am a little +nervous to-day." + +"Bacchus! It looks like it," said Marzio, with an attempt to laugh. +Then he tossed the tool upon the table among the rest with an impatient +gesture. "What do you think of the crucifix?" + +"It is very wonderful," said Paolo, controlling himself by an effort. +"When did you make it, Marzio? You have not had time--" + +"I made it years ago," answered the chiseller, turning his face away to +hide his pallor. "I made it for myself. I never meant to show it, but I +believe I cannot do anything better. Will it do for your cardinal? Look +at the work. It is as fine as anything of the kind in the world, though +I say it. Yes--it is cast. Of course, you do not understand the art, +Paolo, but I will explain it all to you in a few minutes--" + +Marzio talked very fast, almost incoherently, and he was evidently +struggling with an emotion. Paolo, standing back a little from the +bench, nodded his head from time to time. + +"It is all very simple," continued the artist, as though he dared not +pause for breath. "You see one sometimes makes little figures of real +_repousse_, half and half, done in cement and then soldered together so +that they look like one piece, but it is impossible to do them well +unless you have dies to press the plate into the first shape--and the +die always makes the same figure, though you can vary the face and twist +the arms and legs about. Cheap silver crucifixes and angels and those +things are all made in that way, and with care a great deal can be done, +of course, to give them an artistic look." + +"Of course," assented Don Paolo, in a low voice. He thought he +understood the cause of his brother's eloquence. + +"Yes, of course," continued Marzio, as rapidly as before. "But to make a +really good thing like this, is a different matter. A very different +matter. Here you must model your figure in wax, and make moulds of the +parts of it, and chisel each part separately, copying the model. And +then you must join all the parts together with silver-soldering, and go +over the lines carefully. It needs the most delicate handling, for +although the casting is very heavy it is not like working on a chalice +that is filled with cement and all arranged for you, that can be put in +the fire, melted out, softened, cooled, and worked over as often as you +please. There is no putting in the fire here--not more than once after +you have joined the pieces. Do you understand me? Why do you look at me +in that way, Paolo? You look as though you did not follow me." + +"On the contrary," said the priest, "I think I understand it very +well--as well as an outsider can understand such a process. No--I merely +look at the finished work. It is superb, Marzio--magnificent! I have +never seen anything like it." + +"Well, you may have it to-night," said Marzio, turning away, and +walking about the room. "I will touch it over. I can improve it a +little. I have learned something in ten years. I will work all to-day, +and I will bring it home this evening to show Maria Luisa. Then you may +take it away." + +"And the price? I must be able to tell the Cardinal." + +"Oh, never mind the price. I will be content to take whatever he gives +me, since it is going. No price would represent the labour. Indeed, +Paolo, if it were any one but you, I would not let it go. Nothing but my +affection for you would make me give it to you. It is the gem of my +studio. Ah, how I worked at it ten years ago!" + +"Thank you. I think I understand," answered the priest. "I am very much +obliged to you, Marzio, and I assure you it will be appreciated. I must +be going. Thank you for showing it to me. I will come and get it +to-night." + +"Well, good-bye, Paolo," said Marzio. "Here is your umbrella." + +As Don Paolo turned away to leave the room, the artist looked curiously +at the tonsure on his head, and his eyes followed it until Paolo had +covered it with his hat. Then he closed the door and went back to the +bench. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Lucia hastened homewards with the good news she bore. Her young nature +was elastic, and, in the sudden happiness of having secured +Gianbattista's recall, she quickly recovered from the shock she had +received. She did not reflect very much, for she had not the time. It +had all happened so quickly that her senses were confused, and she only +knew that the man she loved must be in despair, and that the sooner she +reached him the sooner she would be able to relieve him from what he +must be suffering. Her breath came fast as she reached the top of the +stairs, and she panted as she rang the bell of the lodging. Apparently +she had rung so loud in her excitement as to rouse the suspicions of old +Assunta, who cautiously peered through the little square that opened +behind a grating in the door, before she raised the latch. On seeing +Lucia she began to laugh, and opened quickly. + +"So loud!" chuckled the old thing. "I thought it was the police or Sor +Marzio in a rage." + +Lucia did not heed her, but ran quickly on to the sitting-room, where +the Signora Pandolfi was alone, seated on her straight chair and holding +her bonnet in her hand, the bonnet with the purple glass grapes; she was +the picture of despair. Lucia made haste to comfort her. + +"Do not cry, mamma," she said quickly. "I have arranged it all. I have +seen papa. I have brought Tista's money. Papa wants him to stay after +all. Yes--I know you cannot guess how it all happened. I went in to ask +about the chickens, and then I asked about Tista, and he told me that I +should not see him any more, and then--then I felt this passion--here in +the chest, and everything went round and round and round like a +whirligig at the Termini, and I fell right down, mamma, down upon the +bricks--I know, my frock is all dusty still, here, look, and here, but +what does it matter? Patience! I fell down like a sack of flour--_pata +tunfate_!" + +"T-t-t-t!" exclaimed the Signora Pandolfi, holding up her hands and +drawing in her breath as she clacked her tongue against the roof of her +mouth. "T-t-t-t! What a pity!" + +"And when I came to my senses--I had fainted, you understand--I was +sitting on the old straw chair and papa was holding my hands in his and +calling me his angel! _Capperi_! But it was worth while. You can +imagine the situation when he called me an angel! It is the first time I +have ever fainted, mamma--you have no idea--it was so curious!" + +"Ah, my dear, it must have softened his heart!" cried Maria Luisa. "If I +could only faint away like that once in a while! Who knows? He might be +converted. But what would you have?" The signora glanced down sadly at +her figure, which certainly suggested no such weakness as she seemed to +desire. "Well, Lucia," she continued, "and then?" + +"Yes, I talked to him, I implored him, I told him I should probably +faint again, and, indeed, I felt like it. So he said I might have my +way, and he told me to come home and tell Tista at once. Where is +Tista?" + +"Eh! He is in his room, packing up his things. I will go and call him. +Oh dear! What a wonderful day this is, my child! To think that it is not +yet eleven o'clock, and all that has happened! It is enough to make a +woman crazy, fit to send to Santo Spirito. First you are to be married, +and then you are not to be married! Then Gianbattista is sent +away--after all these years, and such a good boy! And then he is taken +back! And then--but the chickens, Lucia, you forgot to ask about the +chickens--" + +"Not a bit of it," answered the young girl. "I asked first, before he +told me. Afterwards, I don't know--I should not have had the strength to +speak of chickens. He said roasted, mamma. Poor Tista! He likes them +with rice. Well, one cannot have everything in this world." + +The Signora Pandolfi had reached the door, and called out at the top of +her voice to the young man. + +"Tista! Tista!" She could have been heard in the street. + +"Eh, Sora Luisa! We are not in the Piazza Navona," said Gianbattista, +appearing at the door of his little room. "What has happened?" + +"Go and talk to Lucia," answered the good lady, hurrying off in search +of Assunta to tell her the decision concerning the dinner. + +Gianbattista entered the sitting-room, and, from the young girl's +radiant expression, he guessed that some favourable change had taken +place in his position, or in the positions of them both. Lucia began to +tell him what had passed, and gave much the same account as she had +given to her mother, though some of the intonations were softer, and +accompanied by looks which told her happiness. When she had explained +the situation she paused for an answer. Gianbattista stood beside her +and held her hand, but he looked out of the window, as though uncertain +what to say. + +"Here is the money," said Lucia. "You will take it, won't you? Then it +will be all settled. What is the matter, Tista? Are you not glad?" + +"I do not trust him," answered the young man. "It is not like him to +change his mind like that, all in a minute. He means some mischief." + +"What can he do?" + +"I do not know. I feel as if some evil were coming. Patience! Who knows? +You are an angel, Lucia, darling." + +"Everybody is telling me so to-day," answered the young girl. "Papa, +you--" + +"Of course. It is quite true, my heart, and so every one repeats it. +What do you think? Will he come home to dinner? It is only eleven +o'clock--perhaps I ought to go back and work at the ewer. Somehow I do +not want to see him just now--" + +"Stay with me, Tista. Besides, you were packing up your belongings to go +away. You have a right to take an hour to unpack them. Tell me, what is +this idea you have that papa is not in earnest? I want to understand it. +He was quite in earnest just now--so good, so good, like sugar! Is it +because you are still angry with him, that you do not want to see him?" + +"No--why should I still be angry? He has made reparation. After all, I +took a certain liberty with him." + +"That is all the more reason. If he is willing to forget it--but I +could tell you something, Tista, something that would persuade you." + +"What is it, my treasure?" asked Gianbattista with a smile, bending down +to look into her eyes. + +"Oh, something very wonderful, something of which you would never dream. +I could scarcely believe my eyes. Imagine, when I went to find him just +now, the door was open. I looked through before I went in, to see if you +were there. Do you know what papa was doing? He was kneeling on the +floor before a beautiful crucifix, such a beautiful one. I think he was +saying prayers, but I could not see his face. He stayed a long time, and +then when I knocked he covered it up, was not that strange? That is the +reason why I persuaded him so easily to change his mind." + +Gianbattista smiled incredulously. He had often seen Marzio kneel on the +floor to get a different view of a large piece of work. + +"He was only looking at the work," he answered. "I have seen him do it +very often. He would laugh if he could hear you, Lucia. Do you imagine +he is such a man as that? Perhaps it would not do him any harm--a little +praying. But it is a kind of medicine he does not relish. No, Lucia, you +have been deceived, believe me." + +The girl's expression changed. She had quite persuaded herself that a +great moral change had taken place in her father that morning, and had +built many hopes upon it. To her sanguine imagination it seemed as +though his whole nature must have changed. She had seen visions of him +as she had always wished he might be, and the visions had seemed likely +to be realised. She had doubted whether she should tell any one the +story of what she regarded as Marzio's conversion, but she had made an +exception in favour of Gianbattista. Gianbattista simply laughed, and +explained the matter away in half a dozen words. Lucia was more deeply +disappointed than any one, listening to her light talk, could have +believed possible. Her face expressed the pain she felt, and she +protested against the apprentice's explanation. + +"It is too bad of you, Tista," she said in hurt tones. "But I do not +think you are right. You have no idea how quietly he knelt, and his +hands were folded on the bench. He bent his head once, and I believe he +kissed the feet--I wish you could have seen it, you would not doubt me. +You think I have invented a silly tale, I am sure you do." + +The tears filled her eyes as she turned away and stared vacantly out of +the window at the dark houses opposite. The sun, which had been shining +until that moment, disappeared behind a mass of driving clouds, and a +few drops of rain began to beat against the panes of glass. The world +seemed suddenly more dreary to Lucia. Gianbattista, who was sensitive +where she was concerned, looked at her, and understood that he had +destroyed something in which she had wished to believe. + +"Well, well, my heart, perhaps you are right," he said softly, putting +his arm round her. + +"No, you do not believe it," she answered. + +"For you, I will believe in anything, in everything--even in Sor +Marzio's devotions," he said, pressing her to his side. "Only--you see, +darling, he was talking in such a way a few moments before--that it +seemed impossible--" + +"Nothing is quite impossible," replied Lucia. "The heart beats fast. +There may be a whole world between one beat and the next." + +"Yes, my love," assented Gianbattista, looking tenderly into her eyes. +"But do you think that between all the beatings of our two hearts there +could ever be a world of change?" + +"Ah--that is different, Tista. Why should we change? We could only +change for worse if we began to love each other less, and that is +impossible. But papa! Why should he not change for the better? Who can +tell you, Tista, dear, that in a moment, in a second, after you were +gone, he was not sorry for all he had done? It may have been in an +instant. Why not?" + +"Things done so very quickly are not done well," answered the young man. +"I know that from my art. You may stamp a thing in a moment with the +die--it is rough, unfinished. It takes weeks to chisel it--" + +"The good God is not a chiseller, Tista." + +The words fell very simply from the young girl's lips, and the +expression of her face did not change. Only the tone of her voice was +grave and quiet, and there was a depth of conviction in it which struck +Gianbattista forcibly. In a short sentence she had defined the +difference between his mode of thought and her own. To her mind +omnipotence was a reality. To him, it was an inconceivable power, the +absurdity of which he sought to demonstrate by comparing the magnitude +claimed for it with the capacities of man. He remained silent for a +moment, as though seeking an answer. He found none, and what he said +expressed an aspiration and not a retort. + +"I sometimes wish that I could believe as you do," he said. "I am sure I +could do much greater things, make much more beautiful angels, if I were +quite sure that they existed." + +"Of course you could," answered Lucia. Then, with a tact beyond her +years, she changed the subject of their talk. She would not endanger the +durability of his aspiration by discussing it. "To go back to what we +were speaking of," she said, "you will go to the workshop this +afternoon, Tista, won't you?" + +"Yes," he said mechanically. "What else should I do? Oh, Lucia, my +darling, I cannot bear this uncertainty," he cried, suddenly giving vent +to his feelings. "Where will it end? He may have changed, he may be all +you say he is to-day, all that he was not yesterday, but do you really +believe he has given up his wild idea? It is not all as it should be, +and that is not his nature. It will come upon us suddenly with something +we do not expect. He will do something--I cannot tell what, but I know +him better than you do. He is cruel, he plots over his work, and then, +when all seems calm, the storm breaks. It will not end well." + +"We must love each other, Tista. Then all will end well. Who can divide +us?" + +"No one," answered the young maid firmly. "But many things may happen +before we are united for ever." + +He was not subject to presentiments, and his self-confident nature +abhorred the prospect of trouble. He had arrived at his conclusion by a +logical process, and there seemed no escape from it. As he had told +Lucia, he knew the character of the chiseller better than the women of +the household could know it, for he had been his constant companion for +years, and was not to be deceived in his estimate of Marzio's temper. A +man's natural disposition shows itself most clearly when he is in his +natural element, at his work, busied in the ordinary occupations of his +life. To such a man as Marzio, the workshop is more sympathetic than the +house. Disagreeing on most points with his family, obliged to be absent +during the whole day, wholly absorbed in the production of works which +the women of his household could not thoroughly appreciate, because they +did not thoroughly understand the ideas which originated them, nor the +methods employed in their execution--under these combined circumstances +it was to be expected that the artist's real feelings would find +expression at the work-bench rather than in the society of his wife and +daughter. Seated by Marzio's side, and learning from him all that could +be learned, Gianbattista had acquired at the same time a thorough +knowledge of his instincts and emotions, which neither Maria Luisa nor +Lucia was able to comprehend. + +Marzio was tenacious of his ideas and of his schemes. Deficient in power +of initiative and in physical courage, he was obstinate beyond all +belief in his adherence to his theories. That he should suddenly yield +to a devotional impulse, fall upon his knees before a crucifix and cry +_mea culpa_ over his whole past life, was altogether out of the +question. In Gianbattista's opinion it was almost as impossible that he +should abandon in a moment the plan which he had announced with so much +resolution on the previous evening. It was certain that before declaring +his determination to marry his daughter to the lawyer he must have +ruminated and planned during many days, as it was his habit to do in all +the matters of his life, without consulting any one, or giving the +slightest hint of his intention. Some part of his remarkable talent +depended upon this faculty of thoroughly considering a resolution before +proceeding to carry it out; and it is a part of every really great +talent in every branch of creative art, for it is the result of a great +continuity in the action of the mind combined with the power of +concentration and the virtue of reticence. Many a work has appeared to +the world to be the spontaneous creation of transcendent genius, which +has, in reality, been conceived, studied, and elaborated during years of +silence. Reticence, concentration, and continuity, are characteristics +which cannot influence one part of a man's life without influencing the +rest as well. The habit of studying before proceeding is co-existent +with the necessity of considering before acting; and a man who is +reticent concerning one half of his thoughts is not communicative about +the other half. Nature does not do things by halves, and the nerves +which animate the gesture at the table are the same which guide the +chisel at the work-bench. + +Gianbattista understood Marzio's character, and in his mind tried to +construct the future out of the present. He endeavoured to follow out +what he supposed to be the chiseller's train of thought to its +inevitable conclusion, and the more he reflected on the situation the +more certain he became that Lucia's hypothesis was untenable. It was not +conceivable, under any circumstances whatever, that Marzio should +suddenly turn into a gentle, forgiving creature, anxious only for the +welfare of others, and willing to sacrifice his own inclinations and +schemes to that laudable end. + +At twelve o'clock, Marzio appeared, cold, silent, and preoccupied. His +manner did not encourage the idea entertained by Lucia, though the girl +explained it to herself on the ground that her father was ashamed of +having yielded so easily, and was unwilling to have it thought that he +was too good-natured. There was truth in her idea, and it showed a good +deal of common sense and appreciation of character. But it was not the +whole truth. Marzio not only felt humiliated at having suffered himself +to be overcome by his daughter's entreaties; he regretted it, and wished +he could undo what he had done. It was too late, however. To change his +mind a second time would be to show such weakness as his family had +never witnessed in his actions. + +He ate his food in silence, and the rest of the party ventured but few +remarks. They inwardly congratulated themselves upon the favourable +issue of the affair, in so far as it could be said to have reached a +conclusion, and they all dreaded equally some fresh outburst of anger, +should Marzio's temper be ruffled. Gianbattista himself set the example +of discretion. As for the Signora Pandolfi, she had ready in her pocket +the money her husband had given her in the morning for the purchase of +Lucia's outfit, and she hoped at every moment that Marzio would ask for +it, which would have been a sign that he had abandoned the idea of the +marriage with Carnesecchi. But Marzio never mentioned the subject. He +ate as quickly as he could, swallowed a draught of weak wine and water, +and rose from the table without a word. With a significant nod to Maria +Luisa and Lucia, Gianbattista left his seat and followed the artist +towards the door. Marzio looked round sharply as he heard the steps +behind him. + +"Lucia told me," said the young man simply. "If you wish it, I will come +and work." + +Marzio hesitated a moment, beating his soft felt hat over his arm to +remove the dust. + +"You can go with the men and put up the prince's grating," he said at +last. "The right hand side is ready fitted. If you work hard you can +finish it before night." + +"Very well," answered Gianbattista. "I will see to it. I have the keys +here. In fire minutes I will come across." + +Marzio nodded and went out. Gianbattista returned to the room where the +women were finishing their dinner. + +"It is all right," he said. "I am to put up the grating this afternoon. +Will you come and see it, Sora Luisa?" He spoke to the mother, but he +included the daughter by his look. + +"It is very far," objected the Signora Pandolfi, "and we have been +walking so much this morning. I think this day will never end!" + +"Courage, mamma," said Lucia, "it will do you good to walk. Besides, +there is the omnibus. What did he say, Tista? Am I not right?" + +"Who knows? He is very quiet," replied the apprentice. + +"What is it? What are you right about, my heart?" asked Maria Luisa. + +"She thinks Sor Marzio has suddenly turned into a sugar doll," answered +Gianbattista, with a laugh. "It may be. They say they make sugar out of +all sorts of things nowadays." + +"_Capperi!_ It would be hard!" exclaimed Maria Luisa. "If there is +enough sugar in him to sweeten a teaspoonful of coffee, write to me," +she added ironically. + +"Well--I shall be at the church in an hour, but it will be time enough +if you come at twenty-three o'clock--between twenty-two and +twenty-three." This means between one hour and two hours before sunset. +"The light is good then, for there is a big west window," added +Gianbattista in explanation. + +"We will come before that," said Lucia. "Good-bye, Tista, and take care +not to catch cold in that damp place." + +"And you too," he answered, "cover yourselves carefully." + +With this injunction, and a parting wave of the hand, he left the house, +affecting a gay humour he did not really feel. His invitation to the two +women to join him in the church had another object besides that of +showing them the magnificent gilded grating which was to be put in +place. Gianbattista feared that Marzio had sent him upon this business +for the sake of getting him out of the way, and he did not know what +might happen in his absence. The artist might perhaps choose that time +for going in search of Gasparo Carnesecchi in order to bring him to the +house and precipitate the catastrophe which the apprentice still feared, +in spite of the last events of the morning. It was not unusual for Maria +Luisa and her daughter to accompany him and Marzio when a finished work +was to be set up, and Gianbattista knew that there could be no +reasonable objection to such, a proceeding. + +With an anxious heart he left the house and crossed the street to the +workshop where the men were already waiting for the carts which were to +convey the heavy grating to its destination. The pieces were standing +against the walls, wrapped in tow and brown paper, and immense parcels +lay tied up upon the benches. It was a great piece of work of the +decorative kind, but of the sort for which Marzio cared little. Great +brass castings were chiselled and finished according to his designs +without his touching them with his hands. Huge twining arabesques of +solid metal were prepared in pieces and fitted together with screws that +ran easily in the thread, and then were taken apart again. Then came the +laborious work of gilding by the mercury process, smearing every piece +very carefully with an amalgam of mercury and gold, and putting it into +a gentle, steady fire, until the mercury had evaporated, tearing only +the dull gold in an even deposit on the surfaces. Then the finishing, +the burnishing of the high lights, and the cleaning of the portions +which were to remain dull. Sometimes the gilding of a piece failed, and +had to be begun again, and there was endless trouble in saving the gold, +as well as in preventing the workmen from stealing the amalgam. It was +slow and troublesome work, and Marzio cared little for it, though his +artistic instinct restrained him from allowing it to leave the workshop +until it had been perfected to the highest degree. + +At present the artist stood in the outer room among the wrapped pieces, +his pipe in his mouth and his hands in his pockets. A moment after +Gianhattista had entered, two carts rolled up to the door and the +loading began. + +"Take the drills and some screws to spare," said Marzio, looking into +the bag of tools the foreman had prepared. "One can never tell in these +monstrous things." + +"It will be the first time, if we have to drill a new hole after you +have fitted a piece of work, Maestro Marzio," answered the foreman, who +had an unlimited admiration for his master's genius and foresight. + +"Never mind; do as I tell you. We may all make mistakes in this world," +returned the artist, giving utterance to a moral sentiment which did not +influence him beyond the precincts of the workshop. The workman obeyed, +and added the requisite instruments to the furnishing of his leather +bag. + +"And be careful, Tista," added Marzio, turning to the apprentice. "Look +to the sockets in the marble when you place the large pieces. Measure +them with your compass, you know; if they are too loose you have the +thin plates of brass to pack them; if they are tight, file away, but +finish and smooth it well Don't leave anything rough." + +Gianbattista nodded as he lent a helping hand to the workmen who were +carrying the heavy pieces to the carts. + +"Will you come to the church before night?" he asked. + +"Perhaps. I cannot tell. I am very busy." + +In ten minutes the pieces were all piled upon the two vehicles, and +Gianbattista strode away on foot with the workmen. He had not thought of +changing his dress, and had merely thrown an old overcoat over his grey +woollen blouse. For the time, he was an artisan at work. When working +hours were over, and on Sundays, he loved to put on the stiff high +collar and the cheeked clothes which suggested the garments of the +English tourist. He was then a different person, and, in accordance with +the change, he would smoke a cigarette and pull his cuffs over his +hands, like a real gentleman, adjusting the angle of his hat from time +to time, and glancing at his reflection in the shop windows as he passed +along. But work was work; it was a pity to spoil good clothes with +handling tools and castings, and jostling against the men, and, +moreover, the change affected his nature. He could not handle a hammer +or a chisel when he felt like a real gentleman, and when he felt like an +artisan he must enjoy the liberty of being able to tuck up his sleeves +and work with a will. At the present moment, too, he was proud of being +in sole charge of the work, and he could not help thinking what a fine +thing it would be to be married to Lucia and to be the master of the +workshop. With the sanguine enthusiasm of a very young man who loves his +occupation, he put his whole soul into what he was to do, assured that +every skilful stroke of the hammer, every difficulty overcome, brought +him nearer to the woman he loved. + +Marzio entered the inner studio when Gianbattista was gone, leaving a +boy who was learning to cut little files--the preliminary to the +chiseller's profession--in charge of the outer workshop. The artist shut +himself in and bolted the door, glad to be alone with the prospect of +not being disturbed during the whole afternoon. He seemed not to +hesitate about the work he intended to do, for he immediately took in +hand the crucifix, laid it upon the table, and began to study it, using +a lens from time to time as he scrutinised each detail. His rough hair +fell forward over his forehead, and his shoulders rounded themselves +till he looked almost deformed. + +He had suffered very strong emotions during the last twenty-four +hours--enough to have destroyed the steadiness of an ordinary man's +hand; but with Marzio manual skill was the first habit of nature, and it +would have been hard to find a mental impression which could shake his +physical nerves. His mind, however, worked rapidly and almost fiercely, +while his eyes searched the minute lines of the work he was examining. + +Uppermost in his thoughts was a confused sense of humiliation and of +exasperation against his brother. The anger he felt had nearly been +expressed in a murderous deed not more than two or three hours earlier, +and the wish to strike was still present in his mind. He twisted his +lips into an ugly smile as he recalled the scene in every detail; but +the determination was different from the reality and more in accordance +with his feelings. He realised again that moment during which he had +held the sharp instrument over his brother's head, and the thought which +had then passed so rapidly through his brain recurred again with +increased clearness. He remembered that beneath the iron-bound box in +the corner there was a trap-door which descended to the unused cellar, +for his workshop had in former times been a wine-shop, and he had hired +the cellar with it. One sharp blow would have done the business. A few +quick movements and Paolo's body would have been thrown down the dark +steps beneath, the trap closed again, the safe replaced in its position. +It was eleven o'clock then, or thereabouts. He would have sent the +workmen to their dinner, and would have returned to the inner studio. +They would have supposed afterwards that Don Paolo had left the place +with him. He would have gone home and would have said that Paolo had +left him--or, no--he would have said that Paolo had not been there, for +some one might see him leave the workshop alone. In the night he would +have returned, his family thinking he had gone to meet his friends, as +he often did. When the streets were quiet he would have carried the body +away upon the hand-cart that stood in the entry of the outer room. It +was not far--scarcely three hundred yards, allowing for the turnings--to +the place where the Via Montella ends in a mud bank by the dark river. A +deserted neighbourhood, too--a turn to the left, the low trees of the +Piazza de' Branca, the dark, short, straight street to the water. At one +o'clock after midnight who was stirring? It would all have been so +simple, so terribly effectual. + +And then there would have been no more Paolo, no more domestic +annoyances, no more of the priest's smooth-faced disapprobation and +perpetual opposition in the house. He would have soon brought Maria +Luisa and Lucia to reason. What could they do without the support of +Paolo? They were only women after all. As for Gianbattista, if once the +poisonous influence of Paolo were removed--and how surely +removed!--Marzio's lips twisted as though he were tasting the sourness +of failure, like an acid fruit--if once the priest were gone, +Gianbattista would come back to his old ways, to his old scorn of +priests in general, of churches, of oppression, of everything that +Marzio hated. He might marry Lucia then, and be welcome. After all, he +was a finer fellow for the pretty girl than Gasparo Carnesecchi, with +his claw fingers and his vinegar salad. That was only a farce, that +proposal about the lawyer--the real thing was to get rid of Paolo. There +could be no healthy liberty of thought in the house while this fellow +was sneaking in and out at all hours. Tumble Paolo into a quiet +grave--into the river with a sackful of old castings at his neck--there +would be peace then, and freedom. Marzio ground his teeth as he thought +how nearly he had done the thing, and how miserably he had failed. It +had been the inspiration of the moment, and the details had appeared +clear at once to his mind. Going over them he found that he had not been +mistaken. If Paolo came again, and he had the chance, he would do it. It +was perhaps all the better that he had found time to weigh the matter. + +But would Paolo come again? Would he ever trust himself alone in the +workshop? Had he guessed, when he turned so suddenly and saw the weapon +in the air, that the blow was on the very point of descending? Or had +he been deceived by the clumsy excuse Marzio had made about the sum +shining in his eyes? + +He had remained calm, or Marzio tried to think so. But the artist +himself had been so much moved during the minutes that followed that he +could hardly feel sure of Paolo's behaviour. It was a chilling thought, +that Paolo might have understood and might have gone away feeling that +his life had been saved almost by a miracle. He would not come back, the +cunning priest, in that case; he would not risk his precious skin in +such company. It was not to be expected--a priest was only human, after +all, like any other man. Marzio cursed his ill luck again as he bent +over his work. What a moment this would be if Paolo would take it into +his head to make another visit! Even the men were gone. He would send +the one boy who remained to the church where Gianbattista was working, +with a message. They would be alone then, he and Paolo. The priest might +scream and call for help--the thick walls would not let any sound +through them. It would be even better than in the morning, when he had +lost his opportunity by a moment, by the twinkling of an eye. + +"They say hell is paved with good intentions--or lost opportunities," +muttered Marzio. "I will send Paolo with the next opportunity to help in +the paving." + +He laughed softly at his grim joke, and bent lower over the crucifix. +By this time he had determined what to do, for his reflections had not +interfered with his occupation. Removing two tiny silver screws which +fitted with the utmost exactness in the threads, he loosened the figure +from the cross, removed the latter to a shelf on the wall, and returning +laid the statue on a soft leathern pad, surrounding it with sand-bags +till it was propped securely in the position he required. Then he took a +very small chisel, adjusted it with the greatest care, and tapped upon +it with the round wooden handle of his little hammer. At each touch he +examined the surface with his lens to assure himself that he was making +the improvement he contemplated. It was very delicate work, and as he +did it he felt a certain pride in the reflection that he could not have +detected the place where improvement was possible when he had worked +upon the piece ten years ago. He found it now, in the infinitesimal +touches upon the expression of the face, in the minute increase in the +depressions and accentuated lines in the anatomy of the figure. As he +went over each portion he became more and more certain that though he +could not at present do better in the way of idea and general execution, +he had nevertheless gained in subtle knowledge of effects and in skill +of handling the chisel upon very delicate points. The certainty gave +him the real satisfaction of legitimate pride. He knew that he had +reached the zenith of his capacities. His old wish to keep the crucifix +for himself began to return. + +If he disposed of Paolo he might keep his work. Only Paolo had seen it. +The absurd want of logic in the conclusion did not strike him. He had +not pledged himself to his brother to give this particular crucifix to +the Cardinal, and if he had, he could easily have found a reason for +keeping it back. But he was too much accustomed to think that Paolo was +always in the way of his wishes, to look at so simple a matter in such a +simple light. + +"It is strange," he said to himself. "The smallest things seem to point +to it. If he would only come!" + +Again his mind returned to the contemplation of the deed, and again he +reviewed all the circumstances necessary for its safe execution. What an +inspiration, he thought, and what a pity it had not found shape in fact +at the very moment when it had presented itself! He considered why he +had never thought of it before, in all the years, as a means of freeing +himself effectually from the despotism he detested. It was a despotism, +he reflected, and no other word expressed it. He recalled many scenes in +his home, in which Paolo had interfered. He remembered how one Sunday, +in the afternoon, they had all been together before going to walk in +the Corso, and how he had undertaken to demonstrate to Maria Luisa and +Lucia the folly of wasting time in going to church on Sundays. He had +argued gently and reasonably, he thought. But suddenly Paolo had +interrupted him, saying that he would not allow Marzio to compare a +church to a circus, nor priests to mountebanks and tight-rope dancers. +Why not? Then the women had begun to scream and cry, and to talk of his +blasphemous language until he could not hear himself speak. It was +Paolo's fault. If Paolo had not been there the women would have listened +patiently enough, and would doubtless have reaped some good from his +reasonable discourse. On another occasion Marzio had declared that Lucia +should never be taught anything about Christianity, that the definition +of God was reason, that Garibaldi had baptized one child in the name of +Reason and that he, Marzio, could baptize another quite as effectually. +Paolo had interfered, and Maria Luisa had screamed. The contest had +lasted nearly a month, at the end of which tune, Marzio had been obliged +to abandon the uneven contest, vowing vengeance in some shape for the +future. + +Many and many such scenes rose to his memory, and in every one Paolo was +the opposer, the enemy of his peace, the champion of all that he hated +and despised. In great things and small his brother had been his +antagonist from his early manhood, through eighteen years of married +life to the present day. And yet, without Paolo, he could hardly have +hoped to find himself in his present state of fortune. + +This was one of the chief sources of his humiliation in his own eyes. +With such a character as his, it is eminently true that it is harder to +forgive a benefit than an injury. He might have felt less bitterly +against his brother if he had not received at his hands the orders and +commissions which had turned into solid money in the bank. It was hard +to face Paolo, knowing that he owed two-thirds of his fortune to such a +source. If he could get rid of the priest he would be relieved at once +from the burden of this annoyance, of this financial subjection, as well +of all that embittered his life. He pictured to himself his wife and +daughter listening respectfully to his harangues and beginning to +practise his principles, Gianbattista, an eloquent member of the society +in the inner room of the old inn, reformed, purged from his sneaking +fondness for Paolo--since Paolo would not be in the world any +longer--and ultimately married to Lucia, the father of children who +should all be baptized in the name of Reason, and the worthy successor +of himself, Marzio Pandolfi. + +Scrutinising the statue under his lens, he detected a slight +imperfection in the place where one of the sharp thorns touched the +silver forehead of the beautiful, tortured head. He looked about for a +tool fine enough for the work, but none suited his wants. He took up the +long fine-pointed punch he had thrown back upon the table after the +scene in the morning. It was too long, and over sharp, but by turning it +sideways it would do the work under his dexterous fingers. + +"Strange!" he muttered, as he tapped upon the tool. "It is like a +consecration!" + +When he had made the stroke he dropped the instrument into the pocket of +his blouse, as though fearing to lose it. He had no occasion to use it +again, though he went on with his work during several hours. + +The thoughts which had passed through his brain recurred, and did not +diminish in clearness. On the contrary, it was as though the passing +impulse of the morning had grown during those short hours into a settled +and unchangeable resolution. Once he rose from his stool, and going to +the corner, dragged away the iron-bound safe from its place. A rusty +ring lay flat in a little hollow in the surface of the trap-door. Marzio +bent over it with a pale face and gleaming eyes. It seemed to him as +though, if he looked round, he should see Paolo's body lying on the +floor, ready to be dropped into the space below. He raised the wood and +set the trap back against the wall, peering down into the black depths. +A damp smell came up to his nostrils from the moist staircase. He struck +a match, and held it into the opening, to see in what direction the +stairs led down. + +Something moved behind him and made a little noise. With a short cry of +horror Marzio sprang back from the opening and looked round. It was as +though the body of the murdered man had stirred upon the floor. His +overstrained imagination terrified him, and his eyes started from his +head. He examined the bench and saw the cause of the sound in a moment. +The silver Christ, unsteadily propped in the position in which he had +just placed it, had fallen upon one side of the pad by its own weight. + +Marzio's heart still beat desperately as he went back to the hole and +carefully reclosed the trap-door, dragging the heavy safe to its +position over the ring. Trembling violently, he sat down upon his stool +and wiped the cold perspiration from his forehead. Then, as he laid the +figure upon the cushion, he glanced uneasily behind him and at the +corner. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +When Don Paolo had shut the door of the studio and found himself once +more in the open street, he felt a strangely unpleasant sensation about +the heart, and for a few moments he was very pale. He had suffered a +shock, and in spite of his best efforts to explain away what had +occurred, he knew that he had been in danger. Any one who, being himself +defenceless, has suddenly seen a pistol pointed at him in earnest, or a +sharp weapon raised in the air to strike him, knows the feeling well +enough. Probably he has afterwards tried to reason upon what he felt in +that moment, and has failed to come to any conclusion except the very +simple one, that he was badly frightened. Hector was no coward, but he +let Achilles chase him three times round Troy before he could make up +his mind to stand and fight, and but for Athena he might have run even +further. And yet Hector was armed at all points for battle. He was badly +frightened, brave man as he was. + +But when the first impression was gone, and Paolo was walking quickly +in the direction of the palace where the Cardinal lived, he stoutly +denied to himself that Marzio had meant to harm him. In the first place, +he could find no adequate reason for such an attempt upon his life. It +was true that his relations with his brother had not been very amicable +for some time; but between quarrelling and doing murder, Paolo saw a +gulf too wide to be easily overstepped, even by such a person as Marzio. +Then, too, the good man was unwilling to suspect any one of bad +intentions, still less of meditating a crime. This consideration, +however, was not, logically speaking, in Marzio's favour; for since +Paolo was less suspicious than other men, it must necessarily have +needed a severe shock to shake his faith in his brother's innocence. He +had seem the weapon in the air, and had seen also the murderous look in +the artist's eyes. + +"I had better not think anything more about it," he said to himself, +fearing lest he should think anything unjust. + +So he went on his way towards the palace, and tried to think about +Gianbattista and Lucia, their marriage and their future life. The two +young faces came up before him as he walked, and he smiled calmly, +forgetting what he had so recently passed through, in the pleasant +contemplation of a happiness not his own. He reached his rooms, high up +at the top of the ancient building, and he sighed with a sense of +relief as he sat down upon the battered old chair before his +writing-table. + +Presently the Cardinal sent for him. Don Paolo rose and carefully +brushed the dust from his cassock and mantle, and smoothed the long silk +nap of his hat. He was a very neat man and scrupulous as to his +appearance. Moreover, he regarded the Cardinal with a certain awe, as +being far removed beyond the sphere of ordinary humanity, even though he +had known him intimately for years. This idea of the great importance of +the princes of the Church is inherent in the Roman mind. There is no +particular reason why it should be eradicated, since it exists, and does +no harm to any one, but it is a singular fact and worthy of remark. It +is one of those many relics of old times, which no amount of outward +change has been able to obliterate. A cardinal in Rome occupies a +position wholly distinct from that of any other dignitary or hereditary +noble. It is not so elsewhere, except perhaps in some parts of the +south. The Piedmontese scoffs at cardinals, because he scoffs at the +church and at all religion in general. The Florentine shrugs his +shoulders because cardinals represent Rome, and Rome, with all that is +in it, is hateful to Florence, and always was. But the true Roman, even +when he has adopted the ideas of the new school, still feels an +unaccountable reverence for the scarlet mantle. There is a +dignity--often, now, very far from magnificent--about the household of a +cardinal, which is not found elsewhere. The servants are more grave and +tread more softly, the rooms are darker and more severe, the atmosphere +is more still and the silence more intense, than in the houses of lay +princes. A man feels in the very air the presence of a far-reaching +power, noiselessly working to produce great results. + +Don Paolo descended the stairs and entered the apartments through the +usual green baize door, which swung upon its hinges by its own weight +behind him. He passed through several large halls, scantily and sombrely +furnished, in the last of which stood the throne chair, turned to the +wall, beneath a red canopy. Beyond this great reception-chamber, and +communicating with it by a low masked door, was the Cardinal's study, a +small room, very high and lighted by a single tall window which opened +upon an inner court of the palace. The furniture was very simple, +consisting of a large writing-table, a few high-backed chairs, and the +Cardinal's own easy-chair, covered with dingy leather and well worn by +use. On the dark green walls hung two engravings, one a portrait of Pius +IX., the other a likeness of Leo XIII. The Cardinal himself sat in the +arm-chair, holding a newspaper spread out upon his knees. + +"Good-day, Don Paolo," he said, in a pleasant, but not very musical +voice. + +His Eminence was a man about sixty years of age, hale and strong in +appearance, but below the middle height and somewhat inclining to +stoutness. His face was round, and the complexion very clear, which, +with his small and bright brown eyes, gave him a look of cheerful +vitality. Short white hair fringed his head where it was not covered by +the small scarlet skull-cap. He wore a purple cassock with scarlet +buttons and a scarlet silk mantle, which fell in graceful folds over one +arm of the chair. + +"Good-day, Eminence," answered Don Paolo, touching the great ruby ring +with his lips. Then, in obedience to a gesture, the priest sat down upon +one of the high-backed chairs. + +"What weather have we to-day?" asked the Cardinal after a pause. + +"Scirocco, Eminence." + +"Ah, I thought so--especially this morning, very early. It is very +disagreeable. Since Padre Secchi found that the scirocco really brings +the sand of the desert with it, I dislike it more than ever. And what +have you been doing, Don Paolo? Have you been to see about the +crucifix?" + +"I spoke to my brother about it last night, Eminence. He said he would +do his best to make it in the time, but that he would have preferred to +have a little longer." + +"He is a good artist, your brother," said the Cardinal, nodding his head +slowly and joining his hands, while the newspaper slipped to the floor. + +"A good artist," repeated Don Paolo, stooping to pick up the sheet. "I +have just seen his best work--a crucifix such as your Eminence wishes. +Indeed, he proposed that you should take it, for he says he can make +nothing better." + +"Let us see, let us see," answered the prelate, in a tone which showed +that he did not altogether like the proposal. "You say he has it already +made. Tell me, has your brother much work to do just now?" + +"Not much, Eminence. He has just finished the grating of a chapel for +some church or other. I think I saw a silver ewer begun upon his table." + +"I thought that perhaps he had not time for my crucifix." + +"But he is an artist, my brother!" cried the priest, who resented the +idea that Marzio might wish to palm off an ill-made object in order to +save time. "He is a good artist, he loves the work, he always does his +best! When he says he can do nothing better than what he has already +finished, I believe him." + +"So much the better," replied the Cardinal. "But we must see the work +before deciding. You seem to have great faith in your brother's good +intentions, Don Paolo. Is it not true? Dear me! You were almost angry +with me for suggesting that he might be too busy to undertake my +commission." + +"Angry! I angry? Your Eminence is unjust. Marzio puts much conscience +into his work. That is all." + +"Ah, he is a man of conscience? I did not know. But, being your brother, +he should be, Don Paolo." The prelate's bright brown eyes twinkled. + +Paolo was silent, though he bowed his head in acknowledgment of the +indirect praise. + +"You do not say anything," observed the Cardinal, looking at his +secretary with a smile. + +"He is a man of convictions," answered Paolo, at last. + +"That is better than nothing, better than being lukewarm. 'Because thou +art lukewarm,' you know the rest." + +"_Incipiam te evomere_," replied the priest mechanically. "Marzio is not +lukewarm." + +"_Frigidusne?_" asked the Cardinal. + +"Hardly that." + +"_An calidus?_" + +"Not very, Eminence. That is, not exactly." + +"But then, in heaven's name, what is he?" laughed the prelate. "If he is +not cold, nor hot, nor lukewarm, what is he? He interests me. He is a +singular case." + +"He is a man who has his opinions," answered Don Paolo. "What shall I +say? He is so good an artist that he is a little crazy about other +things." + +"His opinions are not ours, I suppose. I have sometimes thought as much +from the way you speak of him. Well, well--he is not old; his opinions +will change. You are very much attached to your brother, Don Paolo, are +you not?" + +"We are brothers, Eminence." + +"So were Cain and Abel, if I am not mistaken," observed the Cardinal. +Paolo looked about the room uneasily. "I only mean to say," continued +the prelate, "that men may be brothers and yet not love each other." + +"_Come si fa?_ What can one do about it?" ejaculated Paolo. + +"You must try and influence him. You must do your best to make him +change his views. You must make an effort to bring him to a better state +of mind." + +"Eh! I know," answered the priest. "I do my best, but I do not succeed. +He thinks I interfere. I am not San Filippo Neri. Why should I conceal +the matter? Marzio is not a bad man, but he is crazy about what he calls +politics. He believes in a new state of things. He thinks that +everything is bad and ought to be destroyed. Then he and his friends +would build up the ideal state." + +"There would soon be nothing but equality to eat--fried, roast and +boiled. I have heard that there are socialists even here in Rome. I +cannot imagine what they want." + +"They want to divide the wealth of the country among themselves," +answered Don Paolo. "What strange ideas men have!" + +"To divide the wealth of the country they have only to subtract a paper +currency from an inflated national debt. There would be more +unrighteousness than mammon left after such a proceeding. It reminds me +of a story I heard last year. A deputation of socialists waited upon a +high personage in Vienna. Who knows what for? But they went. They told +him that it was his duty to divide his wealth amongst the inhabitants of +the city. And he said they were quite right. 'Look here,' said he, 'I +possess about seven hundred thousand florins. It chances that Vienna has +about seven hundred thousand inhabitants. Here, you have each one +florin. It is your share. Good-morning.' You see he was quite just. So, +perhaps, if your brother had his way, and destroyed everything, and +divided the proceeds equally, he would have less afterwards than he had +before. What do you think?" + +"It is quite true, Eminence. But I am afraid he will never understand +that. He has very unchangeable opinions." + +"They will change all the more suddenly when he is tired of them. Those +ideas are morbid, like the ravings of a man in a fever. When the fever +has worn itself out, there comes a great sense of lassitude, and a +desire for peace." + +"Provided it ever really does wear itself out," said Don Paolo, sadly. + +"Eh! it will, some day. With such political ideas, I suppose your +brother is an atheist, is he not?" + +"I hope he believes in something," replied the priest evasively. + +"And yet he makes a good living by manufacturing vessels for the service +of the Church," continued the Cardinal, with a smile. "Why did you never +tell me about your brother's peculiar views, Don Paolo?" + +"Why should I trouble you with such matters? I am sorry I have said so +much, for no one can understand exactly what Marzio is, who does not +know him. It is an injury to him to let your Eminence know that he is a +freethinker. And yet he is not a bad man, I believe. He has no vices +that I know of, except a sharp tongue. He is sober and works hard. That +is much in these days. Though he is mistaken, he will doubtless come to +his senses, as you say. I do not hate him; I would not injure him." + +"Why do you think it can harm him to let me about him? Do you think that +I, or others, would not employ him if we knew all about him?" + +"It would seem natural that your Eminence should hesitate to do so." + +"Let us see, Don Paolo. There are some bad priests in the world, I +suppose; are there not?" + +"It is to be feared--" + +"Yes, there are. There are bad priests in all forms of religion. Yet +they say mass. Of course, very often the people know that they are bad. +Do you think that the mass is less efficacious for the salvation of +those who attend it, provided that they themselves pray with the same +earnestness?" + +"No; certainly not. For otherwise it would be necessary that the people +should ascertain whether the priest is in a state of grace every time he +celebrates; and since their salvation would then, depend upon that, they +would be committing a sin if they did not examine the relative morality +of different priests and select the most saintly one." + +"Well then, so much the more is it indifferent whether the inanimate +vessels we use are chiselled by a saint or an unbeliever. Their use +sanctifies them, not the moral goodness of the artist. For, by your own +argument, we should otherwise he committing a sin if we did not find +out the most saintly men and set them to silver-chiselling instead of +ordaining them bishops and archbishops. It would take a long time to +build a church if you only employed masons who were in a state of +grace." + +"Well, but would you not prefer that the artist should be a good man?" + +"For his own sake, Don Paolo, for his own sake. The thing he makes is +not at all less worthy if he is bad. Are there not in many of our +churches pillars that stood in Roman temples? Is not the canopy over the +high altar in Saint Peter's made of the bronze roof of the Pantheon? And +besides, what is goodness? We are all bad, but some are worse than +others. It is not our business to judge, or to distribute commissions +for works of art to those whom we think the best among men, as one gives +medals and prizes to industrious and well-behaved children." + +"That is very clear, and very true," answered the priest. + +He did not really want to discuss the question of Marzio's belief or +unbelief. Perhaps, if he had not been disturbed in mind by the events of +the morning he would have avoided the subject, as he had often done +before when the Cardinal had questioned him. But to-day he was not quite +himself, and being unable to tell a falsehood of any kind he had spoken +more of idle truth than he had wished. He felt that he had perhaps been +unjust to his brother. He looked ill at ease, and the Cardinal noticed +it, for he was a kindly man and very fond of his secretary. + +"You must not let the matter trouble you," said the prelate, after a +pause. "I am an inquisitive old man, as you know, and I like to be +acquainted with my friends' affairs. But I am afraid I have annoyed +you--" + +"Oh! Your Eminence could never--" + +"Never intentionally," interrupted the Cardinal. "But it is human to +err, and it is especially human to bore one's fellow-creatures with +inquisitive questions. We all have our troubles, Don Paolo, and I am +yours. Some day, perhaps, you will be a cardinal yourself--who knows? I +hope so. And then you will have an excellent secretary, who will be much +too good, even for you, and whom you can torture by the hour together +with inquiries about his relations. Well, if it is only for your sake, +Sor Marzio shall never have any fewer commissions, even if he turn out +more in earnest with his socialism than most of those fellows." + +"You are too kind," said Paolo simply. + +He was very grateful for the kindly words, for he knew that they were +meant and not said merely in jest. The idea that he had perhaps injured +Marzio in the Cardinal's estimation was very painful to him, in spite +of what he had felt that morning. Moreover, the prelate's plain, +common-sense view of the case reassured him, and removed a doubt that +had long ago disturbed his peace of mind. On reflection it seemed true +enough, and altogether reasonable, but Paolo knew in his heart what a +sensation of repulsion, not to say loathing, he would experience if he +should ever be called upon to use in the sacred services a vessel of his +brother's making. The thought that those long, cruel fingers of Marzio's +had hammered and worked out the delicate design would pursue him and +disturb his thoughts. The sound of Marzio's voice, mocking at all the +priest held holy, would be in his ears and would mingle with the very +words of the canon. + +But then, provided that he himself were not obliged to use his brother's +chalices, what could it matter? The Cardinal did not know the artist, +and whatever picture he might make to himself of the man would be +shadowy and indistinct. The feeling, then, was his own and quite +personal. It would be the height of superstitious folly to suppose that +any evil principle could be attached to the silver and gold because they +were chiselled by impious hands. A simple matter this, but one which had +many a time distressed Don Paolo. + +There was a long pause after the priest's last words, during which the +prelate looked at him from time to time, examined his own white hands, +and turned his great ruby ring round his finger. + +"Let us go to work," he said at length, as though dismissing the subject +of the conversation from his mind. + +Paolo fetched a large portfolio of papers and established himself at the +writing-table, while the Cardinal examined the documents one by one, and +dictated what he had to say about them to his secretary. During two +hours or more the two men remained steadily at their task. When the last +paper was read and the last note upon it written out, the Cardinal rose +from his arm-chair and went to the window. There was no sound in the +room but that of the sand rattling upon the stiff surface, as Paolo +poured it over the wet ink in the old-fashioned way, shook it about and +returned it to the little sandbox by the inkstand. Suddenly the old +churchman turned round and faced the priest. + +"One of these days, when you and I are asleep out there at San Lorenzo, +there will be a fight, my friend," he said. + +"About what, Eminence?" asked the other. + +"About silver chalices, perhaps. About many things. It will be a great +fight, such as the world has never seen before." + +"I do not understand," said Don Paolo. + +"Your brother represents an idea," answered the Cardinal. "That idea is +the subversion of all social principle. It is an idea which must spread, +because there is an enormous number of depraved men in the world who +have a very great interest in the destruction of law. The watchword of +that party will always be 'there is no God,' because God is order, and +they desire disorder. They will, it is true, always be a minority, +because the greater part of mankind are determined that order shall not +be destroyed. But those fellows will fight to the death, because they +know that in that battle there will be no quarter for the vanquished. It +will be a mighty struggle and will last long, but it will be decisive, +and will perhaps never be revived when it is once over. Men will kill +each other where-ever they meet, during months and years, before the end +comes, for all men who say that there is a God in Heaven will be upon +the one side, and all those who say there is no God will be upon the +other." + +"May we not be alive to see anything so dreadful!" exclaimed Don Paolo +devoutly. + +"No, you and I shall not see it. But those little children who are +playing with chestnuts down there in the court--they will see it. The +world is uneasy and dreads the very name of war, lest war should become +universal if it once breaks out. Tell your brother that." + +"It is what he longs for. He is always speaking of it." + +"Then it is inevitable. When many millions like him have determined that +there shall be evil done, it cannot long be warded off. Their blood be +on their own heads." + +When Don Paolo had climbed again to his lonely lodging, half an hour +later, he pondered long upon what the Cardinal had said to him, and the +longer he thought of it, the more truth there seemed to be in the +prediction. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Gianbattista reached the church in which he was to do his work, and +superintended the unloading of the carts. It was but a little after one +o'clock, and he expected to succeed in putting up the grating before +night. The pieces were carefully carried to the chapel where they were +to be placed, and laid down in the order in which they would be needed. +It took a long time to arrange them, and the apprentice was glad he had +advised Maria Luisa and Lucia to come late. It would have wearied them, +he reflected, to assist at the endless fitting and screwing of the +joints, and they would have had no impression of the whole until they +were tired of looking at the details. + +For hours he laboured with the men, not allowing anything to be done +without his supervision, and doing more himself than any of the workmen. +He grew hot and interested as the time went on, and he began to doubt +whether the work could be finished before sunset. The workmen +themselves, who preferred a job of this kind to the regular occupation +of the studio, seemed in no hurry, though they did what was expected of +them quietly and methodically. Each one of them was calculating, as +nearly as possible, the length of time needed to drive a screw, to lift +a piece into position, to finish off a shank till it fitted closely in +the prepared socket. Half an hour wasted by driblets to-day, would +ensure them for the morrow the diversion of an hour or two in coming to +the church and returning from it. + +From time to time Gianbattista glanced towards the door, and as the +hours advanced his look took the same direction more often. At last, as +the rays of the evening sun fell through the western window, he heard +steps, and was presently rewarded by the appearance of the Signora +Pandolfi, followed closely by Lucia. They greeted Gianbattista from a +distance, for the church being under repairs was closed to the public, +and had not been in use for years, so that the sound of voices did not +seem unnatural nor irreverent. + +"It is not finished," said Gianbattista, coming forward to meet them; +"but you can see what it will be like. Another hour will be enough." + +At that moment Don Paolo suddenly appeared, walking fast up the aisle in +pursuit of the two women. They all greeted him with an exclamation of +surprise. + +"Eh!" he exclaimed, "you are astonished to see me? I was passing and saw +you go in, and as I knew about the grating, I guessed what you came for +and followed you. Is Marzio here?" + +"No," answered Gianbattista. "He said he might perhaps come, but I doubt +it. I fancy he wants to be alone." + +"Yes," replied Don Paolo thoughtfully, "I daresay he wants to be alone." + +"He has had a good many emotions to-day," remarked Gianbattista. "We +shall see how he will be this evening. Of course, you have heard the +news, Don Paolo? Besides, you see I am at work, so that the first great +difference has been settled. Lucia managed it--she has an eloquence, +that young lady! She could preach better than you, Don Paolo." + +"She is a little angel," exclaimed the priest, tapping his niece's dark +cheek with his white hand. + +"That is four to-day!" cried Lucia, laughing. "First mamma, then +papa--figure to yourself papa!--then Tista, and now Uncle Paolo. Eh! if +the wings don't grow before the Ave Maria--" + +She broke off with a pretty motion of her shoulders, showing her white +teeth and turning to look at Gianbattista. Then the young man took them +to see the grating. A good portion of it was put up, and it produced a +good effect. The whole thing was about ten or twelve feet high, +consisting of widely-set gilt bars, between which were fastened large +arabesques and scrolls. On each side of the gate, in the middle, an +angel supported a metal drapery, of which the folds were in reality of +separate pieces, but which, as it now appeared, all screwed together in +its place, had a very free and light effect. It was work of a +conventional kind and of a conventional school, but even here Marzio's +great talent had shown itself in his rare knowledge of effects and free +modelling; the high lights were carefully chosen and followed out, and +the deep shadows of the folds in dull gold gave a richness to the +drapery not often found in this species of decoration. The figures of +the angels, too, were done by an artist's hand--conventional, like the +rest, but free from heaviness or anatomical defects. + +"It is not bad," said Don Paolo, in a tone which surprised every one. He +was not often slow to praise his brother's work. + +"How, not bad? Is that all you say?" asked Gianbattista, in considerable +astonishment. He felt, too, that as Marzio and he worked together, he +deserved acme part of the credit. "It is church decoration of course, +and not a 'piece,' as we say, but I would like to see anybody do +better." + +"Well, well, Tista, forgive me," he answered, "The fact is, Marzio +showed me something to-day so wonderful, that I see no beauty in +anything else--or, at least, not so much beauty as I ought to see. I +went in to find him again, you know, just as Lucia was leaving, and he +showed me a crucifix--a marvel, a wonder!--he said he had had it a long +time, put away in a box." + +"I never saw it," said Tista. + +"I did!" exclaimed Lucia. She regretted the words as soon as she had +spoken them, and bit her lip. She had not told her mother what she had +told Gianbattista. + +"When did you see it? Is it so very beautiful?" asked the Signora +Pandolfi. + +"Oh, I only saw it through the door, when I went," she answered quickly. +"The door was open, but I knocked and I saw him hide it. But I think it +was very fine--splendid! What did you talk about, Uncle Paolo? You have +not told us about your visit. I whispered to you that everything was +settled, but you looked as though you did not understand. What did you +say to each other?" + +"Oh, nothing--nothing of any importance," said Don Paolo in some +embarrassment. He suddenly recollected that, owing to his brother's +strange conduct, he had left the studio without saying a word about the +errand which had brought him. "Nothing," he repeated. "We talked about +the crucifix, and Marzio gave a very long explanation of the way it was +made. Besides, as Lucia says, she had told me that everything was +settled, and Marzio spoke very quietly." + +This was literally true. Marzio's words had been gentle enough. It was +his action that had at first startled Don Paolo, and had afterwards set +him thinking and reflecting on the events of those few minutes. But he +would not for anything in the world have allowed any of his three +companions to know what had happened. He was himself not sure. Marzio +had excused the position of his hand by saying that the sun was in his +eyes. There was something else in his eyes, thought Paolo; a look of +hatred and of eager desire for blood which it was horrible to remember. +Perhaps he ought not to remember it, for he might, be mistaken, after +all, and it was a great sin to suspect any one of wishing to commit such +a crime; but nevertheless; and in spite of his desire that it might not +have been true, Don Paolo was conscious of having received the +impression, and he was sure that it had not been the result of any +foolish fright. He was not a cowardly, man, and although his physical +courage had rarely been put to the test, no one who knew him would have +charged him with the contemptible timidity which imagines danger +gratuitously, and is afraid where no fear is. He was of a better temper +than Marzio, who had been startled so terribly by a slight noise when +his back was turned. And yet he had been profoundly affected by the +scene of the morning, and had not yet entirely recovered his serenity. + +Lucia noticed the tone of his answer, and suspected that something had +happened, though her suspicion took a direction exactly opposed to the +fact. She remembered what she had seen herself, and recalling the fact +that Paolo had entered the workshop just as she was leaving it, she saw +nothing unnatural in the supposition that her father's conversation with +her uncle had taken a religious tone. She used the word religion to +express to herself what she meant. She thought it quite possible that +after Marzio had been so suddenly softened, and evidently affected, by +her own fainting fit, and after having been absorbed in some sort of +devotional meditation, he might have spoken of his feelings to Don +Paolo, who in his turn would have seized the opportunity for working +upon his brother's mind. Paolo, she thought, would naturally not care to +speak lightly of such an occurrence, and his somewhat constrained manner +at the present moment might be attributed to this cause. To prevent any +further questions from her mother or Gianbattista, Lucia interposed. + +"Yes," she said, "he seemed very quiet. He hardly spoke at dinner. But +Tista says he may perhaps be here before long, and then we shall know." + +It was not very clear what was to be known, and Lucia hastened to direct +their attention to the new grating. Gianbattista returned to work with +the men, and the two women and Don Paolo stood looking on, occasionally +shifting their position to get a better view of the work. Gianbattista +was mounted upon a ladder which leaned against one of the marble pillars +at the entrance of the side chapel closed by the grating. A heavy piece +of arabesque work had just been got into its place, and was tied with +cords while the young man ran a screw through the prepared holes to +fasten one side of the fragment to the bar. He was awkwardly placed, but +he had sent the men to uncover and clean the last pieces, at a little +distance from where he was at work. The three visitors observed him with +interest, probably remarking to themselves that it must need good nerves +to maintain one's self in such a position. Don Paolo, especially, was +more nervous than the rest, owing, perhaps, to what had occurred in the +morning. All at once, as he watched Gianbattista's twisted attitude, as +the apprentice strained himself and turned so as to drive the screw +effectually, the foot of the ladder seemed to move a little on the +smooth marble pavement. With a quick movement Don Paolo stepped forward, +with the intention of grasping the ladder. + +Hearing the sound of rapid steps, Gianbattista turned his head and a +part of his body to see what had happened. The sudden movement shifted +the weight, and definitely destroyed the balance of the ladder. With a +sharp screech, like that of a bad pencil scratching on a slate, the +lower ends of the uprights slipped outward from the pillar. +Gianbattista clutched at the metal bars desperately, but the long +screw-driver in his hands impeded him, and he missed his hold. + +Don Paolo, the sound of whose step had at first made the young man turn, +and had thus probably precipitated the accident, sprang forward, threw +himself under the falling ladder, and grasped it with all his might. But +it was too late. Gianbattista was heavy, and the whole ladder with his +weight upon it had gained too much impetus to be easily stopped by one +man. With a loud crash he fell with the wooden frame upon the smooth +marble floor. Rolling to one side, Gianbattista leapt to his feet, dazed +but apparently unhurt. + +The priest lay motionless in a distorted position under the ladder, his +head bent almost beneath his body, and one arm projecting upon the +pavement, seemingly twisted in its socket, the palm upwards. The long +white fingers twitched convulsively once or twice, and then were still. +It was all the affair of a moment. Maria Luisa screamed and leaned +against the pillar for support, while Lucia ran forward and knelt beside +the injured man. Gianbattista, whose life had probably been saved by Don +Paolo's quick action, was dragging away the great ladder, and the +workmen came running up in confusion to see what had happened. + +It seemed as though Marzio's wish had been accomplished without his +agency. A deadly livid colour overspread the priest's refined features, +and as they lifted him his limp limbs hung down as though the vitality +would never return to them--all except the left arm, which was turned +stiffly out and seemed to refuse to hang down with the rest. It was +dislocated at the shoulder. + +A scene of indescribable confusion followed, in which Gianbattista alone +seemed to maintain some semblance of coolness. The rest all spoke and +cried at once. Maria Luisa and Lucia knelt beside the body where they +had laid it on the steps of the high altar, crying aloud, kissing the +white hands and beating their breasts, praying, sobbing, and calling +upon Paolo to speak to them, all in a breath. + +"He is dead as a stone," said one of the workmen in a low voice. + +"Eh! He is in Paradise," said another, kneeling at the priest's feet and +rubbing them. + +"Take him to the hospital, Sor Tista--" + +"Better take him home--" + +"I will run and call Sor Marzio--" + +"There is an apothecary in the next street." + +"A doctor is better--apothecaries are all murderers." + +Gianbattista, very pale, but collected and steady, pushed the men gently +away from the body. + +"_Cari miei_, my dear fellows," he said, "he may be alive. One of you +run and get a carriage to the side door of the sacristy. The rest of you +put the things together and be careful to leave nothing where it can +fall. We will take him to Sor Marzio's house and get the best doctor." + +"There is not even a drop of holy water in the basins," moaned Maria +Luisa. + +"He will go to Heaven without holy water," sobbed Lucia. "Oh, how good +he was--" + +Gianbattista kneeled down in his turn and tried to find the pulse in the +poor limp wrist. Then he listened for the heart. He fancied he could +hear a faint flutter in the breast. He looked up and a little colour +came to his pale face. + +"I think he is alive," he said to the two women, and then bent down +again and listened. "Yes," he continued joyfully. "The heart beats. +Gently--help me to carry him to the sacristy; get his hat one of you. +So--carefully--do not twist that arm. I think I see colour in his +cheeks--" + +With four other men Gianbattista raised the body and bore it carefully +to the sacristy. The cab was already at the door, and in a few minutes +poor Don Paolo was placed in it. The hood was raised, and Maria Luisa +got in and sat supporting the drooping head upon her broad bosom. Lucia +took the little seat in front, and Gianbattista mounted to the box, +after directing the four men to follow in a second cab as fast as they +could, to help to carry the priest upstairs. He sent another in search +of a surgeon. + +"Do not tell Sor Marzio--do not go to the workshop," he said in a last +injunction. He knew that Marzio would be of no use in such an emergency, +and he hoped that Don Paolo might be pronounced out of danger before the +chiseller knew anything of the accident. + +In half an hour the injured man was lying in Gianbattista's bed. It was +now evident that he was alive, for he breathed heavily and regularly. +But the half-closed eyes had no intelligence in them, and the slight +flush in the hollow cheeks was not natural to see. The twisted arm still +stuck out of the bed-coverings in a painfully distorted attitude. The +two women and Gianbattista stood by the bedside in silence, waiting for +the arrival of the surgeon. + +He came at last, a quiet-looking man of middle age, with grizzled hair +and a face deeply pitted with the smallpox. He seemed to know what he +was about, for he asked for a detailed account of the accident from +Gianbattista while he examined the patient. The young man, who was +beginning to feel the effects of the fall, now that the first excitement +had subsided, sat down while he told the story. The surgeon urged the +two women to leave the room. + +"The left arm is dislocated at the shoulder, without fracture," said +the surgeon. "Lend me a hand, will you? Hold his body firmly--here and +here--with all your might, while I pull the joint into place. If his +head or spine are not injured the pain may bring him to consciousness. +That will be a good thing. Now, ready--one, two, three, pull!" + +The two men gave a vigorous jerk, and to Gianbattista's surprise the arm +fell back in a natural position; but the injured priest's features +expressed no pain. He was evidently quite unconscious. A further +examination led the surgeon to believe that the harm was more serious. +There was a bad bruise on one side of the head, and more than one upon +other parts of the body. + +"Will he live?" asked Gianbattista faintly, as he sank back into his +chair. + +"Oh yes--probably. He is likely to have a brain fever; One cannot tell. +How old is he?" + +He asked one or two other questions, arranging the patient's position +with skilful hands while he talked Then he asked for paper and wrote a +prescription. + +"Nothing more can be done for the present," he said. "You should put +some ice on his head, and if he recovers consciousness, so as to speak +before I come back, observe what he says. He may be in a delirium, or he +may talk quite rationally. One cannot tell Send for this medicine and +give it to him if he is conscious. Otherwise, only keep his head cool. I +will come back early in the evening. You are not hurt yourself?" he +inquired, looking at Gianbattista curiously. + +"No; I am badly shaken, and my hands are a little cut--that is all," +answered the young man. + +"What a beautiful thing youth is!" observed the surgeon philosophically, +as he went away. + +Gianbattista remained alone in the sick-room, seated upon his chair by +the head of the bed. With anxious interest and attention he watched the +expressionless face as the heavy breath came and went between the parted +lips. In the distance he could hear the sobbing and incoherent talk of +the two women, as the doctor explained to them Paolo's condition, but he +was now too much dazed to give any thought to them. It seemed to him +that Don Paolo had sacrificed his life for him, and that he had no other +duty than to sit beside the bed and watch his friend. All the +impressions of the afternoon were very much confused, and the shock of +the fall had told upon his nerves far more severely than he had at first +realised. His limbs ached and his hands pained him; at the same time he +felt dizzy, and the outline of Don Paolo's face grew indistinct as he +watched it. He was roused by the entry of Lucia, who had hastily laid +aside her hat. Her face was pale, and her dark eyes were swollen with +tears; her hair was in disorder and was falling about her neck. +Gianbattista instinctively rose and put his arm about the girl's waist +as they stood together and looked at the sick man. He felt that it was +his duty to comfort her. + +"The doctor thinks he may get well," he said. + +"Who knows," she answered tearfully, and shook her head, "Oh, Tista, he +was our best friend!" + +"It was in trying to save me--" said the young fellow. But he got no +further. The words stuck in his throat. + +"If he lives I will be a son to him!" he added presently. "I will never +leave him. But perhaps--perhaps he is too good to live, Lucia!" + +"He must not die. I will take care of him," answered Lucia. "You must +pray for him, Tista, and I will--we all will!" + +"Eh! I will try, but I don't understand that kind of thing as well as +you," said Gianbattista dolefully. "If you think it is of any use--" + +"Of course it is of use, my heart; do not doubt it," replied the young +girl gravely. Then her features suddenly quivered, she turned away, and, +hiding her face on the pillow beside the priest's unconscious, head, she +sobbed as though her heart would break. Gianbattista knelt down at her +side and put his arm round her neck, whispering lovingly in her ear. + +The day was fading, and the last glow of the sun in the south-western +sky came through the small window at the other end of the narrow room, +illuminating the simple furniture, the white bed coverings, the upturned +face of the injured man, and the two young figures that knelt at the +bedside. It was Gianbattista's room, and there was little enough in it. +The bare bricks, with only a narrow bit of green drugget by the bed, the +plain deal table before the window, the tiny round mirror set in lead, +at which the apprentice shaved himself, the crazy old chest of +drawers--that was all. The whitewashed walls were relieved by two or +three drawings of chalices and other church vessels, the colour of the +gold or silver, and of the gems, washed into one half of the design and +the other side left in black and white. A little black cross hung above +the bedstead, with a bit of an olive branch nailed over it--a +reminiscence of the last Palm Sunday. There were two nails in another +part of the room, on which some old clothes were hung--that was all. But +the deep light of the failing day shed a peaceful halo aver everything, +and touched the coarse details of a hardworking existence with the +divine light of Heaven. + +Lucia's sobbing ceased after a while, and, as the sunset faded into +twilight and dusk, the silence grew more profound; the sick man's +breathing became lighter, as though in his unconsciousness he were +beginning to rest after the day in which he had endured so much. From +the sitting-room beyond the short passage the sound of Maria Luisa's +voice, moaning in concert with old Assunta, gradually diminished till +they were heard only at intervals, and at last ceased altogether. The +household of Marzio Pandolfi was hushed in the presence of a great +sorrow, and awed by the anticipation of a great misfortune. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Marzio, in ignorance of all that was happening at the church, continued +to work in the solitude of his studio, and the current of his thoughts +flowed on in the same channel. He tried to force his attention upon the +details of the design he meditated against his brother's life, and for +some time he succeeded. But another influence had begun to work upon his +brain, since the moment when he had been frightened by the sound behind +him while he was examining the hole beneath the strong box. He would not +own to himself that such a senseless fear could have produced a +permanent impression on him, and yet he felt disturbed and unsettled, +unaccountably discomposed, and altogether uncomfortable. He could not +help looking round from time to time at the door, and more than once his +eyes rested for several seconds upon the safe, while a slight shiver ran +through his body and seemed to chill his fingers. + +But he worked on in spite of all this. The habit of the chisel was not +to be destroyed by the fancied scare of a moment, and though his eyes +wandered now and then, they came back to the silver statue as keen as +ever. A little touch with the steel at one point, a little burnishing at +another, the accentuation of a line, the deepening of a shadow--he +studied every detail with a minute and scrupulous care which betrayed +his love for the work he was doing. + +And yet the uneasiness grew upon him. He felt somehow as though Paolo +were present in the room with him, watching him over his shoulder, +suggesting improvements to be made, in that voice of his which now rang +distinctly in the artist's ear. His imagination worked morbidly, and he +thought of Paolo standing beside him, ordering him to do this or that +against his will, until he began to doubt his own judgment in regard to +what he was doing. He wondered whether he should feel the same thing +when Paolo was dead. Again he looked behind him, and the idea that he +was not alone gained force. Nevertheless the room was bright, brighter +indeed in the afternoon than it ever was in the morning, for the window +was towards the south, and though the first rays of the sun reached it +at about eleven in the morning, the buildings afterwards darkened it +again until the sun was in the west. Moreover to-day, the weather had +been changeable, and it had rained a little about noon. Now the air was +again clear, and the workshop was lit up so that the light penetrated +even to the ancient cobwebs in the corners, and touched the wax models +and casts on the shelves, and gilded the old wood of the door opposite +with rich brown gold. Marzio had a curtain of dusty grey linen which he +drew across the lower part of the window to keep the sunshine off his +work. + +He was impatient with himself, and annoyed by the persistency of the +impression that Paolo was in some way present in the place. As though to +escape from it by braving it he set himself resolutely to consider the +expediency of destroying his brother. The first quick impulse in the +morning had developed to a purpose in the afternoon. He had constructed +the probable occurrences out of the materials of his imagination, and +had done it so vividly as to frighten himself. The fright had in some +measure cooled his intention, and had been now replaced by a new element +in his thoughts, by the apprehension for the future if the deed were +accomplished. He began to speculate upon what would happen afterwards, +wondering whether by any means the murder could be discovered, and if in +that case it could ever be traced to him. + +At the first faint suggestion that such a thing as he was devising could +possibly have another issue than he had supposed, Marzio felt a cold +sensation in his heart, and his thoughts took a different direction. It +was all simple enough. To get Paolo into the workshop alone--a +blow--the concealment of the dead body until night--then the short three +hundred yards with the hand-cart--it seemed very practicable. Yes, but +if by any chance he should meet a policeman under those low trees in the +Piazza de' Branca, what would happen? A man with a hand-cart, and with +something shapeless upon the hand-cart, in the dark, hurrying towards +the river--such a man would excite the suspicions of a policeman. Marzio +might be stopped and asked what he was taking away. He would +answer--what would he answer in such a case? The hand-cart would be +examined and found to contain a dead priest. Besides, he reflected that +the wheels would make a terrible clatter in the silent streets at night. +Of course he might go out and walk down to the river first and see if +there was anybody in the way, but even then he could not be sure of +finding no one when he returned with his burden. + +But there was the cellar, after all. He could go down in the night and +bury his brother's body there. No one ever went down, not even he +himself. Who would suspect the place? It would be a ghastly job, the +chiseller thought. He fancied how it would be in the cold, damp vault +with a lantern--the white face of the murdered man. No, he shrank from +thinking of it. It was too horrible to be thought of until it should be +absolutely necessary. But the place was a good one. + +And then when Paolo was buried deep under the damp stones, who would be +the first to ask for him? For two or three days no one would be much +surprised if he did not come to the house. Marzio would say that he had +met him in the street, and that Paolo had excused himself for not +coming, on the ground of extreme pressure of work. But the Cardinal, +whom he served as secretary, would ask for the missing man. He would be +the first. The Cardinal would be told that Paolo had not slept at home, +in his lodging high up in the old palace, and he would send at once to +Marzio's house to know where his secretary was. Well, he might send, +Marzio would answer that he did not know, and the matter would end +there. + +It would be hard to sit calmly at the bench all day with Gianbattista at +his side. He would probably look very often at the iron-bound box. +Gianbattista would notice that, and in time he would grow curious, and +perhaps explore the cellar. It would be a miserable ending to such a +drama to betray himself by his own weakness after it was all done, and +Paolo was gone for ever--a termination unworthy of Marzio, the +strong-minded freethinker. To kill a priest, and then be as nervous and +conscious as a boy in a scrape! The chiseller tried to laugh aloud in +his old way, but the effort was ineffectual, and ended in a painful +twisting of the lips, accompanied by a glance at the corner. It would +not do; he was weak, and was forced to submit to the humiliation of +acknowledging the fact to himself. With a bitter scorn of his +incapacity, he began to wonder whether he could ever get so far as to +kill Paolo in the first instance. He foresaw that if he did kill him, he +could never get rid of him afterwards. + +Where do people go when they die? The question rose suddenly in the mind +of the unbeliever, and seemed to demand an answer. He had answered often +enough over a pint of wine at the inn, with Gaspare Carnesecchi the +lawyer and the rest of his friends. Nowhere. That was the answer, clear +enough. When a man dies he goes to the ground, as a slaughtered ox to +the butcher's stall, or a dead horse to the knacker's. That is the end +of him, and it is of no use asking any more questions. You might as well +ask what becomes of the pins that are lost by myriads of millions, to +the weight of many tons in a year. You might as well inquire what +becomes of anything that is old, or worn out, or broken. A man is like +anything else, an agglomeration of matter, capable of a few more tricks +than a monkey, and capable of a few less than a priest. He dies, and is +swallowed up by the earth and gives no more trouble. These were the +answers Marzio was accustomed to give to the question, "Where do people +go to when they die?" Hitherto they had satisfied him, as they appear +to satisfy a very small minority of idiots. + +But what would became of Paolo when Marzio had killed him? Well, in time +his body would become earth, that was all. There was something else, +however. Marzio was conscious to certainty that Paolo would in some way +or other be at his elbow ever afterwards, just as he seemed to feel his +presence this afternoon in the workshop. What sort of presence would it +be? Marzio could not tell, but he knew he should feel it. It did not +matter whether it were real to others or not, it would be too real to +him. He could never get rid of the sensation; it would haunt him and +oppress him for the rest of his life, and he should have no peace. + +How could it, if it were not a real thing? Even the priests said that +the spirits of dead men did not come back to earth; how much more +impossible must it be in Marzio's view, since he denied that man had a +soul. It would then only be the effect of his imagination recalling +constantly the past deed, and a thing which only existed in imagination +did not exist at all. If it did not exist, it could not be feared by a +sensible man. Consequently there was nothing to fear. + +The conclusion contradicted the given facts from which he had argued, +and the chiseller was puzzled. For the first time his method of +reasoning did not satisfy him, and he tried to find out the cause. Was +it, he asked to himself, because there lingered in his mind some early +tradition of the wickedness of doing murder? Since there was no soul, +there was no absolute right and wrong, and everything must be decided by +the standard of expediency. It was a mistake to allow people to murder +each other openly, of course, because people of less intellectual +capacity would take upon themselves to judge such cases in their own +way. But provided that public morality, the darling of the real +freethinker, were not scandalised, there would be no inherent wrong in +doing away with Paolo. On the contrary, his death would be a benefit to +the community at large, and an advantage to Marzio in particular. Not a +pecuniary advantage either, for in Marzio's strange system there would +have been an immorality in murdering Paolo for his money if he had ever +had any, though it seemed right enough to kill him for an idea. That is, +to a great extent, the code of those persons who believe in nothing but +what they call great ideas. The individuals who murdered the Czar would +doubtless have scrupled to rob a gentleman in the street of ten francs. +The same reasoning developed itself in Marzio's brain. If his brothel +had been rich, it would have been a crime to murder him for his wealth. +It was no crime to murder him for an idea. Marzio said to himself that +to get rid of Paolo would be to emancipate himself and his family from +the rule and interference of a priest, and that such a proceeding was +only the illustration on a small scale of what he desired for his +country; consequently it was just, and therefore it ought to be done. + +Unfortunately for his logic, the continuity of his deductions was +blocked by a consideration which he had not anticipated. That +consideration could only be described as fear for the future, and it had +been forcibly thrust upon him by the fright he had received while he was +examining the hole in the floor. In order to neutralise it, Marzio had +tried the experiment of braving what he considered to be a momentary +terror by obstinately studying the details of the plan he intended to +execute. To his surprise he found that he returned to the same +conclusion as before. He came back to that unaccountable fear of the +future as surely as a body thrown upwards falls again to the earth. He +went over it all in his mind again, twice, three times, twenty times. As +often as he reached the stage at which he imagined Paolo dead, hidden, +and buried in a cellar, the same shiver passed through him as he glanced +involuntarily behind him. Why? What power could a dead body possibly +exercise over a living man in the full possession of his senses? + +Here was something which Marzio could not understand, but of which he +was made aware by his own feelings. The difficulty only increased in +magnitude as he faced it, considered it, and tried to view it from all +its horrible aspects. But he could not overcome it. He might laugh at +the existence of the soul and jest about the future state after death; +he could not escape from the future in this life if he did the deed he +contemplated. He should see the dead man's face by day and night as long +as he lived. + +This forced conclusion was in logical accordance with his original +nature and developed character, for it was the result of that +economical, cautious disposition which foresees the consequences of +action and guides itself accordingly. Even in the moment when he had +nearly killed Paolo that morning he had not been free from this +tendency. In the instant when he had raised the tool to strike he had +thought of the means of disposing of the body and of hindering +suspicion. The panorama of coming circumstances had presented itself to +his mind with the rapidity of a flash of lightning, but in that +infinitesimal duration of time Paolo had turned round, and the +opportunity was gone. His mind had worked quickly, but it had not gone +to the end of its reasoning. Now in the solitude of his studio he had +found leisure to follow out the results to the last link of the chain. +He saw clearly that even if he eluded discovery after the crime, he +could never escape from the horror of his dead brother's presence. + +He laid the silver figure of the Christ straight before him upon the +leathern pad, and looked intently at it, while his hands played idly +with the tools upon the table. His deep-set, heavy eyes gazed fixedly at +the wonderful face, with an expression which had not yet been there. +There was no longer any smile upon his thin lips, and his dark emaciated +features were restful and quiet, almost solemn in their repose. + +"I am glad I did not do it," he said aloud after some minutes. + +Still he gazed at his work, and the impression stole over him that but +for a slight thing he might yet have killed his brother. If he had left +the figure more securely propped upon the pad, it could not have slipped +upon the bench; it could not have made that small distinct sound just as +he was examining the place which was to have been his brother's grave; +he would not have been suddenly frightened; he would not have gone over +the matter in his mind as he had done, from the point of view of a +future fear; he would have waited anxiously for another opportunity, and +when it presented itself he would have struck the blow, and Paolo would +have been dead, if not to-day, to-morrow. There would have been a search +which might or might not have resulted in the discovery of the body. +Then there would have been, the heartrending grief of his wife, of +Lucia, and the black suspicious looks of Gianbattista. The young man had +heard him express a wish that Paolo might disappear. His home would have +been a hell, instead of being emancipated from tyranny as he had at +first imagined. Discovery and conviction would have come at last, the +galleys for life for himself, dishonour and contempt for his family. + +He remembered Paolo's words as he stood contemplating the crucifix just +before that moment which had nearly been his last. _Qui propter nos +homines et propter nostram salutem_--"Who for us men and for our +salvation came down from Heaven." In a strange revulsion of feeling +Marzio applied the words to himself, with an odd simplicity that was at +once pathetic and startling. + +"If Christ had not died," he said to himself, "I should not have made +this crucifix. If I had not made it, it would not have frightened me. I +should have killed my brother. It has saved me. 'For us men and for our +salvation'--those are the words--for my salvation, it is very strange. +Poor Paolo! If he knew to what he owed his life he would be pleased. Who +can believe such things? Who would have believed this if I had told it? +And yet it is true." + +For some minutes still he gazed at the figure. Then he shook himself as +though to rouse his mind from a trance, and took up his tools. He did +not glance behind him again, and, for the time at least, his nervous +dislike of the box in the corner seemed to have ceased. He laboured with +patient care, touching and re-touching, believing that each tap of the +hammer should be the last, and yet not wholly satisfied. + +The light waned, and he took down the curtain to admit the last glows of +the evening. He could do no more, art itself could have done no more to +beautify and perfect the masterpiece that lay upon the cushion before +him. The many hours he had spent in putting the last finish upon the +work had produced their result. His hand had imparted something to the +features of the dying head which had not been there before, and as he +stood over the bench he knew that he had surpassed his greatest work. He +went and fetched the black cross from the shelf, and polished its smooth +surface carefully with a piece of silk. Then he took the figure tenderly +in his hands and laid it in its position. The small screws turned evenly +in the threads, fitting closely into their well-concealed places, and +the work was finished. Marzio placed the whole crucifix upon the bench +and sat down to look at it. + +It made a strong impression upon him, this thing of his own hands, and +again he remained a long time resting his chin upon his folded fingers +and gazing up at the drooping lids. The shadows lay softly on the +modelled silver, so softly that the metal itself seemed to tremble and +move, and in his reverie Marzio could almost have expected the divine +eyes to open and look into his face. And gradually the shadows deepened +more and more, and gathered into gloom till in the dark the black arms +of the cross scarcely stood out from the darkness, and in the last +lingering twilight he could see only the clear outline of the white head +and outstretched hands, that seemed to emit a soft radiance gathered +from the brightness of the departed day. + +Marzio struck a match and lit his lamp. His thoughts were so wholly +absorbed that he had not remembered the workmen, nor wondered why they +had not come back. After all, most of them lived in the direction of the +church, and if they had finished their work late they would very +probably go home without returning to the shop. The chiseller wrapped +the crucifix in the old white cloth, and laid it in its plain wooden +box, but he did not screw the cover down, merely putting it on loosely +so that it could be removed in a moment. He laid his tools in order, +mechanically, as he did every evening, and then he extinguished the +light and made his way to the door, carrying the box under his arm. + +The boy who alone had remained at work had lighted a tallow candle, and +was sitting dangling his heels from his stool as Marzio came out. + +"Still here!" exclaimed the artist. + +"Eh! You did not tell me to go," answered the lad. + +Marzio locked the heavy outer door and crossed over to his house, while +the boy went whistling down the street in the dusk. Slowly the artist +mounted the stairs, pondering, as he went, on the many emotions of the +day, and at last repeating his conclusion, that he was glad that he had +not killed Paolo. + +By a change of feeling which he did not wholly realise, he felt for the +first time in many years that he would be glad to see his brother alive +and well. He had that day so often fancied him dead, lying on the floor +of the workshop, or buried in a dark corner of the cellar, that the idea +of meeting him, calm and well as ever, had something refreshing in it. +It was like the waking from a hideous dream of evil to find that the +harm is still undone, to experience that sense of unutterable relief +which every one knows when the dawn suddenly touches the outlines of +familiar objects in the room, and dispels in an instant the visions of +the night. + +Paolo might not come that evening, but at least Maria Luisa and Lucia +would speak of him, and it would be a comfort to hear his name spoken +aloud. Marzio's step quickened with the thought, and in another moment +he was at the door. To his surprise it was opened before he could ring, +and old Assunta came forward with her wrinkled fingers raised to her +lips. + +"Hist! hist!" she whispered. "It goes a little better--or at least--" + +"What? Who?" asked Marzio, instinctively whispering also. + +"Eh! You have not heard? Don Paolo--they have killed him!" + +"Paolo!" exclaimed Marzio, staggering and leaning against the door-post. + +"He is not dead--not dead yet at least," went on the old woman in low, +excited tones. "He was in the church with Tista--a ladder--" + +Marzio did not stop to hear more, but pushed past Assunta with his +burden under his arm, and entered the passage. The door at the end was +open, and he saw his wife standing in the bright light in the +sitting-room, anxiously looking towards him as though she had heard his +coming. + +"For God's sake, Gigia," he said, addressing her by her old pet name, +"tell me quickly what has happened!" + +The Signora Pandolfi explained as well as she could, frequently giving +way to her grief in passionate sobs. She was incoherent, but the facts +were so simple that Marzio understood them. He was standing by the +table, his hand resting upon the wooden case he had brought, and his +face was very pale. + +"Let me understand," he said at last. "Tista was on the ladder. The +ladder slipped, Paolo ran to catch it, and it fell on him. He is badly +hurt, but not dead; is that it, Gigia?" + +Maria Luisa nodded in the midst of a fit of weeping. + +"The surgeon has been, you say? Yes. And where is Paolo lying?" + +"In Tista's room," sobbed his wife. "They are with him now." + +Marzio stood still and hesitated. He was under the influence of the most +violent emotion, and his face betrayed something of what he felt. The +idea of Paolo's death had played a tremendous part in his thoughts +during the whole day, and he had firmly believed that he had got rid of +that idea, and was to realise in meeting his brother that it had all +been a dream. The news he now heard filled him with horror. It seemed as +if the intense wish for Paolo's death had in some way produced a +material result without his knowledge; it was as though he had killed +his brother by a thought--as though he had had a real share in his +death. + +He could hardly bear to go and see the wounded man, so strong was the +impression that gained possession of him. His fancy called up pictures +of Paolo lying wounded in bed, and he dreaded to face the sight. He +turned away from the table and began to walk up and down the little +room. In a corner his foot struck against something--the drawing board +on which he had begun to sketch the night before. Marzio took it up and +brought it to the light. Maria Luisa stared at him sorrowfully, as +though reproaching him with indifference in the general calamity. But +Marzio looked intently at the drawing. It was only a sketch, but it was +very beautifully done. He saw that his ideal was still the same, and +that upon the piece of paper he had only reproduced the features he had +chiselled ten years ago, with an added beauty of expression, with just +those additions which to-day he had made upon the original. The moment +he was sure of the fact he laid aside the board and opened the wooden +case. + +Maria Luisa, who was very far from guessing what an intimate connection +existed between the crucifix and Paolo in her husband's mind, looked on +with increasing astonishment as he took out the beautiful object and Bet +it upon the table in the light. But when she saw it her admiration +overcame her sorrow for one moment. + +"_Dio mio!_ What a miracle!" she exclaimed. + +"A miracle?" repeated her husband, with a strange expression. "Who +knows? Perhaps!" + +At that moment Gianbattista and Lucia entered through the open door, and +stood together watching the scene without understanding what was +passing. The young girl recognised the crucifix at once. She supposed +that her father did not realise Paolo's condition, and was merely +showing the masterpiece to her mother. + +"That is the one I saw," she whispered to Gianbattista. The young man +said nothing, but fixed his eyes upon the cross. + +"Papa," said Lucia timidly, "do you know?" + +"Yes. Is he alone?" asked Marzio in a tone which was not like his own. + +"There is Assunta," answered the young girl. + +"I will go to him," said the artist, and without further words he lifted +the crucifix from the table and went out. His face was very grave, and +his features had something in them that none of the three had seen +before--something almost of grandeur. Gianbattista and Lucia followed +him. + +"I will be alone with him," said Marzio, looking back at the pair as he +reached the door of the sick chamber. He entered and a moment afterwards +old Assunta came out and shuffled away, holding her apron to her eyes. + +Marzio went in. There was a small shaded lamp on the deal table, which +illuminated the room with a soft light. Marzio felt that he could not +trust himself at first to look at his brother's face. He set the +crucifix upon the old chest of drawers, and put the lamp near it. Then +he remained standing before it with his back to the bed, and his hands +in the pockets of his blouse. He could hear the regular breathing which +told that Paolo was still alive. For a long time he could not turn +round; it was as though an unseen power held him motionless in his +position. He looked at the crucifix. + +"If he wakes," he thought, "he will see it. It will comfort him if he is +going to die!" + +With his back still turned towards the bed, he moved to one side, until +he thought that Paolo could see what he had brought, if consciousness +returned. Very slowly, as though fearing some horrible sight, he changed +his position and looked timidly in the direction of the sick man. At +last he saw the pale upturned face, and was amazed that such an accident +should have produced so little change in the features. He came and stood +beside the bed. + +Paolo had not moved since the surgeon had left; he was lying on his +back, propped by pillows so that his face was towards the light. He was +pale now, for the flush that had been in his cheeks had subsided; his +eyelids, which had been half open, had dropped and closed, so that he +seemed to be sleeping peacefully, ready to wake at the slightest sound. + +Marzio stood and looked at him. This was the man he had hated through so +many years of boyhood and manhood--the man who had faced him and opposed +him at every step--who had stood up boldly before him in his own house +to defend what he believed to be right. This was Paolo, whom he had +nearly killed that morning. Marzio's right hand felt the iron tool in +the pocket of his blouse, and his fingers trembled as he touched it, +while his long arms twitched nervously from the shoulder to the elbow. +He took it out, looked at it, and at the sick man's face. He asked +himself whether he could think of using it as he had meant to, and then +he let it fall upon the bit of green drugget by the bedside. + +That was Paolo--it would not need any sharpened weapon to kill him now. +A little pressure on the throat, a pillow held over his face for a few +moments, and it would all be over. And what for? To be pursued for ever +by that same white face? No. It was not worth while, it had never been +worth while, even were that all. But there was something else to be +considered. Paolo might now die of his accident, in his bed. There would +be no murder done in that case, no haunting horror of a presence, no +discovery to be feared, since there would have been no evil. Let him +die, if he was dying! + +But that was not all either. What would it be when Paolo should be dead? +Well, he had his ideas, of course. They were mistaken ideas. Were they? +Perhaps, who could tell? But he was not a bad man, this Paolo. He had +never tried to wring money out of Marzio, as some people did. On the +contrary, Marzio still felt a sense of humiliation when he thought how +much he owed to the kindness of this man, his brother, lying here +injured to death, and powerless to help himself or to save himself. +Powerless? yes--utterly so. How easy it would be, after all, to press a +pillow on the unconscious face. There would probably not even be a +struggle. Who should save him, or who could know of it? And yet Marzio +did not want to do it, as he had wished to a few hours ago. As he looked +down on the pale head he realised that he did not want Paolo to die. +Standing on the sharp edge of the precipice where life ends and breaks +off, close upon the unfathomable depths of eternity, himself firmly +standing and fearing no fall, but seeing his brother slipping over the +brink, he would put out his hand to save him, to draw him back. He would +not have Paolo die. + +He gazed upon the calm features, and he knew that he feared lest they +should be still for ever. The breath came more softly, more and more +faintly. Marzio thought. He bent down low and tried to feel the warm +air as it issued from the lips. His fears grew to terror as the life +seemed to ebb away from the white face. In the agony of his +apprehension, Marzio inadvertently laid his hand upon the injured +shoulder, unconsciously pressing his weight upon the place. + +With a faint sigh the priest's eyes opened and seemed to gaze for a +moment on the crucifix standing in the bright light of the lamp. An +expression of wonderful gentleness and calm overspread the refined +features. + +"_Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de +coelis_." + +The words came faintly from the dying man's lips, the last syllables +scarcely audible in the intense stillness. A deathly pallor crept +quickly over the smooth forehead and thin cheeks. Marzio looked for one +instant more, and then with a loud cry fell upon his knees by the +bedside, his long arms extended across his brother's body. The strong +hot tears fell upon the bed coverings, and his breast heaved with +passionate sobbing. + +He did not see that Paolo opened his eyes at the sound. He did not +notice the rush of feet in the passage without, as Maria Luisa and Lucia +and Gianbattista ran to the door, followed by old Assunta holding up her +apron to her eyes. + +"Courage, Sor Marzio," said Gianbattista, drawing the artist back from +the bed. "You will disturb him. Do you not see that he is conscious at +last?" + +Lucia was arranging the pillows under Paolo's head, and Maria Luisa was +crying with joy. Marzio sprang to his feet and stared as though he could +not believe what he saw. Paolo turned his head and looked kindly at his +brother. + +"Courage, Marzio," he said, "I have been asleep, I believe--what has +happened to me? Why are you all crying?" + +Marzio's tears broke out again, mingled with incoherent words of joy. In +his sudden happiness he clasped the two persons nearest to him, and +hugged them and kissed them. These two chanced to be Lucia and +Gianbattista. Paolo smiled, but the effort of speaking had tired him. + +"Well," said Marzio at last, with a kinder smile than had been on his +face for many a day--"very well, children. For Paolo's sake you shall +have your own way." + +Half an hour later the surgeon made his visit and assured them all that +there was no serious injury, nor any further danger to be feared. The +patient had been very badly stunned, that was all. Marzio remained by +his brother's side. + +"You see, Tista," said Lucia when they were in the sitting-room, "I was +quite right about the crucifix and the rest." + +"Of course," assented the Signora Pandolfi, though she did not +understand the allusion in the least. "Of course you are all of you +right. But what a day this has been, _cari miei_! What a day! Dear, +dear!" She spread out her fat hands upon her knees, looking the picture +of solid contentment. + +THE END + + + + * * * * * + + + +ZOROASTER + +TO + +My Beloved Wife + +I DEDICATE THIS DRAMA + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +The hall of the banquets was made ready for the feast in the palace of +Babylon. That night Belshazzar the king would drink wine with a thousand +of his lords, and be merry before them; and everything was made ready. + +From end to end of the mighty nave, the tables of wood, overlaid with +gold and silver, stood spread with those things which the heart of man +can desire; with cups of gold and of glass and of jade; with great +dishes heaped high with rare fruits and rarer flowers; and over all, the +last purple rays of the great southern sun came floating through the +open colonnades of the porch, glancing on the polished marbles, tingeing +with a softer hue the smooth red plaster of the walls, and lingering +lovingly on the golden features and the red-gold draperies of the vast +statue that sat on high and overlooked the scene. + +On his head the head-dress of thrice royal supremacy, in his right hand +and his left the sceptre of power and the winged wheel of immortality +and life, beneath his feet the bowed necks of prostrate captives;--so +sat the kingly presence of great Nebuchadnezzar, as waiting to see what +should come to pass upon his son; and the perfume of the flowers and the +fruits and the rich wine came up to his mighty nostrils, and he seemed +to smile there in the evening sunlight, half in satisfaction, half in +scorn. + +On each side of the great building, in the aisles and wings, among the +polished pillars of marble thronged the serving-men, bearing ever fresh +spices and flowers and fruits, wherewith to deck the feast, whispering +together in a dozen Indian, Persian and Egyptian dialects, or in the +rich speech of those nobler captives whose pale faces and eagle eyes +stood forth everywhere in strong contrast with the coarser features and +duskier skins of their fellows in servitude,--the race not born to +dominate, but born to endure even to the end. These all mingled together +in the strange and broken reflections of the evening light, and here and +there the purple dye of the sun tinged the white tunic of some poor +slave to as fair a colour as a king's son might wear. + +On this side and on that of the tables that were spread for the feast, +stood great candlesticks, as tall as the height of two men, tapering +from the thickness and heavy carving below to the fineness and delicate +tracery above, and bearing upon them cups of bronze, each having its +wick steeped in fine oil mixed with wax. Moreover, in the midst of the +hall, where the seat of the king was put upon a raised floor, the +pillars stood apart for a space, so that there was a chamber, as it +were, from the wall on the right to the wall on the left, roofed with +great carved rafters; and the colour of the walls was red,--a deep and +glorious red that seemed to make of the smooth plaster a sheet of +precious marble. Beyond, beneath the pillars, the panels of the aisles +were pictured and made many-coloured with the story of Nebuchadnezzar +the king, his conquests and his feasts, his captives and his courtiers, +in endless train upon the splendid wall. But where the king should sit +in the midst of the hall there were neither pillars nor paintings; only +the broad blaze of the royal colour, rich and even. Beside the table +also stood a great lamp, taller and more cunningly wrought than the +rest,--the foot of rare marble and chiselled bronze and the lamp above +of pure gold from southern Ophir. But it was not yet kindled, for the +sun was not set and the hour for the feast was not fully come. + +At the upper end of the hall, before the gigantic statue of wrought +gold, there was an open space, unencumbered by tables, where the smooth, +polished marble floor came to view in all its rich design and colour. +Two persons, entering the hall with slow steps, came to this place and +stood together, looking up at the face of the golden king. + +Between the two there was the gulf of a lifetime. The one was already +beyond the common limit of age, while he who stood beside him was but a +fair boy of fourteen summers. + +The old man was erect still, and his snowy hair and beard grew like a +lion's mane about his massive brow and masterful face. The deep lines of +thought, graven deeper by age, followed the noble shaping of his brows +in even course, and his dark eyes still shot fire, as piercing the +bleared thickness of time to gaze boldly on the eternity beyond. His +left hand gathered the folds of a snow-white robe around him, while in +his right he grasped a straight staff of ebony and ivory, of fine +workmanship, marvellously polished, whereon were wrought strange sayings +in the Israelitish manner of writing. The old man stood up to his noble +height, and looked from the burnished face of the king's image to the +eyes of the boy beside him, in silence, as though urging his young +companion to speak for him the thoughts that filled the hearts of both. + +The youth spoke not, nor gave any sign, but stood with folded hands and +gazed up to the great features of Nebuchadnezzar. + +He was but fourteen years of age, tall and delicately made, full of the +promise of a graceful and elastic power, fine of skin, and instinct with +the nervous strength of a noble and untainted race. His face was fair +and white, tinged with faint colour, and his heavy golden hair fell in +long curls upon his shoulders, thick and soft with the silken fineness +of early youth. His delicate features were straight and noble, northern +rather than Oriental in their type--supremely calm and thoughtful, +almost godlike in their young restfulness. The deep blue eyes were +turned upward with a touch of sadness, but the broad forehead was as +marble, and the straight marking of the brows bounded it and divided it +from the face. He wore the straight white tunic, edged about with fine +embroideries of gold and gathered at the waist with a rich belt, while +his legs were covered with wide Persian trousers wrought in many colours +of silk upon fine linen. He wore also a small cap of linen, stiffened +to a point and worked with a cunning design in gold and silver. But the +old man's head was covered only by the thick masses of his snowy hair, +and his wide white mantle hid the details of his dress from view. + +Again he glanced from the statue to his companion's eyes, and at last he +spoke, in a deep smooth voice, in the Hebrew tongue. + +"Nebuchadnezzar the king is gathered to his fathers, and his son also, +and Nabonnedon Belshazzar reigns in his stead, yet have I endured to +this day, in Babylon, these threescore and seven years, since +Nebuchadnezzar the king destroyed our place upon the earth and led us +away captive. Unto this day, Zoroaster, have I endured, and yet a little +longer shall I stand and bear witness for Israel." + +The old man's eyes flashed, and his strong aquiline features assumed an +expression of intense vitality and life. Zoroaster turned to him and +spoke softly, almost sadly: + +"Say, O Daniel, prophet and priest of the Lord, why does the golden +image seem to smile to-day? Are the times accomplished of thy vision +which thou sawest in Shushan, in the palace, and is the dead king glad? +I think his face was never so gentle before to look upon,--surely he +rejoices at the feast, and the countenance of his image is gladdened." + +"Nay, rather then should his face be sorrowful for the destruction of +his seed and of his kingdom," answered the prophet somewhat scornfully. +"Verily the end is at hand, and the stones of Babylon shall no longer +cry out for the burden of the sins of Belshazzar, and the people call +upon Bel to restore unto life the King Nebuchadnezzar; nay, or to send +hither a Persian or a Mede to be a just ruler in the land." + +"Hast thou read it in the stars, or have thine eyes seen these things in +the visions of the night, my master?" The boy came nearer to the aged +prophet and spoke in low earnest tones. But Daniel only bent his head, +till his brow touched his ebony staff, and so he remained, deep in +thought. + +"For I also have dreamed,"--continued Zoroaster, after a short +pause,--"and my dream took hold of me, and I am sorry and full of great +weariness. Now this is the manner of my dreaming." He stopped and +glanced down the great nave of the hall through the open porch at the +other end. The full glory of the red sun, just touching the western +plain, streamed upon his face and made the tables, the preparations and +the crowd of busy serving-men look like black shadows between him and +the light. But Daniel leaned upon his staff and spoke no word, nor moved +from his position. + +"I saw in my dream," said Zoroaster, "and there was darkness; and upon +the winds of the night arose the sound of war, and the cry and the clash +of battle, mighty men striving one with another for the mastery and the +victory, which should be to the stronger. And I saw again, and behold it +was morning, and the people were led away captive, by tens, and by +hundreds, and by thousands, and the maidens also and young women into a +far country. And I looked, and the face of one of the maidens was as the +face of the fairest among the daughters of thy people. Then my heart +yearned for her, and I would have followed after into the captivity; but +darkness came upon me, and I saw her no more. Therefore am I troubled +and go heavily all the day." + +He ceased and the cadence of the boy's voice trembled and was sad. The +sun set out of sight beneath the plain, and from far off a great sound +of music came in upon the evening breeze. + +Daniel raised his snowy head and gazed keenly on his young companion, +and there was disappointment in his look. + +"Wouldst thou be a prophet?" he asked, "thou that dreamest of fair +maidens and art disquieted for the love of a woman? Thinkest thou, boy, +that a woman shall help thee when thou art grown to be a man, or that +the word of the Lord dwelleth in vanity? Prophesy, and interpret thy +vision, if so be that thou art able to interpret it. Come, let us +depart, for the king is at hand, and the night shall be given over for a +space to the rioters and the mirth-makers, with whom our portion is not. +Verily I also have dreamed a dream. Let us depart." + +The venerable prophet stood up to his height, and grasping his staff in +his right hand, began to lead the way from the hall. Zoroaster laid hold +of him by the arm, as though entreating him to remain. + +"Speak, master," he cried earnestly, "and declare to me thy dream, and +see whether it accords with mine, and whether there shall be darkness +and rumour of war in the land." + +But Daniel the prophet would not stay to speak, but went out of the +hall, and Zoroaster the Persian youth went with him, pondering deeply on +the present and on the future, and on the nature of the vision he had +seen; and made fearful by the silence of his friend and teacher. + +The darkness fell upon the twilight, and within the hall the lamps and +candlesticks were kindled and gave out warm light and rare perfumes. All +down the endless rows of tables, the preparations for the feast were +ready; and from the gardens without, strains of music came up ever +stronger and nearer, so that the winged sounds seemed to come into the +vast building and hover above the tables and seats of honour, preparing +the way for the guests. Nearer and nearer came the harps and the pipes +and the trumpets and the heavy reed-toned bagpipes, and above all the +strong rich chorus of the singers chanting high the evening hymn of +praise to Bel, god of sunlight, honoured in his departing, as in his +coming, with the music of the youngest and most tuneful voices in +Shinar. + +First came the priests of Bel, two and two, robed in their white tunics, +loose white garments on their legs, the white mitre of the priestly +order on their heads, and their great beards curled smooth and glossy as +silk. In their midst, with stately dignity, walked their chief, his eyes +upon the ground, his hands crossed upon his breast, his face like dark +marble in the twilight. On either side, those who had officiated at the +sacrifice, bore the implements of their service,--the knife, the axe, +the cord, and the fire in its dish; and their hands were red with the +blood of the victim lately slain. Grand, great men, mighty of body and +broad of brow, were these priests of Bel,--strong with the meat and the +wine of the offerings that were their daily portion, and confident in +the faith of their ancient wisdom. + +After the priests the musicians, one hundred chosen men of skill, making +strange deep harmonies in a noble and measured rhythm, marching ten and +ten abreast, in ten ranks; and as they came on, the light streaming from +the porch of the palace caught their silver ornaments and the strange +shapes of their instruments in broken reflections between the twilight +and the glare of the lamps. + +Behind these came the singers,--of young boys two hundred, of youths a +hundred, and of bearded men also a hundred; the most famous of all that +sang praises to Bel in the land of Assur. Ten and ten they marched, with +ordered ranks and step in time to the massive beat of the long-drawn +measure. + + _"Mighty to rule the day, great in his glory and the + pride of his heat, + Shooting great bolts of light into the dark earth, + turning death into life, + Making the seed to grow, strongly and fairly, high + in furrow and field, + Making the heart of man glad with his gladness, + rideth over the dawn + Bel, the prince, the king of kings. + + "Hotly his flaming hair, streaming with brightness, + and the locks of his beard + Curl'd into clouds of heat, sweeping the heavens, + spread all over the sky: + Who shall abide his face, fearful and deadly, when + he devours the land, + Angry with man and beast, horribly raging, hungry + for sacrifice? + Bel, the prince, the king of kings. + + "Striding his three great strides, out of the morning + through the noon to the night, + Cometh he down at last, ready for feasting, ready + for sacrifice: + Then doth he tread the wine, purple and golden, + foaming deep in the west; + Shinar is spread for him, spread as a table, Assur + shall be his seat: + Bel, the prince, the king of kings. + + "Bring him the fresh-slain flesh, roast it with fire, + with the savour of salt, + Pour him the strength of wine, chalice and goblet, + trodden for him alone: + Raise him the song of songs, cry out in praises, cry + out and supplicate + That he may drink delight, tasting our off'ring, hearing + our evening song: + Bel, the prince, the king of kings. + + "So, in the gentle night, when he is resting, + peace descendeth on earth; + High in the firmament, where his steps led him, + gleam the tracks of his way: + Where the day felt his touch, there the night also + breaketh forth into stars, + These are the flowers of heaven, garlands of blossoms, + growing to weave his crown: + Bel, the prince, the king of kings. + + "Hail! thou king of the earth, hail! Belteshazzar, + hail! and for ever live! + Born of the gods on high, prince of the nations, + ruling over the world: + Thou art the son of Bel, full of his glory, king over + death and life; + Let all the people bow, tremble and worship, bow + them down and adore + The prince of Bel, the king of kings."_ + +As the musicians played and the singers sang, they divided their ranks +and came and stood on each side of the broad marble staircase; and the +priests had done so before them, but the chief priest stood alone on the +lowest step. + +Then, between the files of those who stood, advanced the royal +procession, like a river of gold and purple and precious stones flowing +between banks of pure white. Ten and ten, a thousand lords of Babylon +marched in stately throng, and in their midst rode Belshazzar the king, +high upon his coal-black steed, crowned with the great tiara of white +linen and gold and jewels, the golden sceptre of the kingdom in his +right hand. And after the lords and the king came a long procession of +litters borne by stalwart slaves, wherein reclined the fairest women of +all Assyria, bidden to the great feast. Last of all, the spearmen of +the guard in armour all chased with gold, their mantles embroidered with +the royal cognisance, and their beards trimmed and curled in the close +soldier fashion, brought up the rear; a goodly company of men of war. + +As the rich voices of the singers intoned the grand plain chant of the +last stanza in the hymn, the king was in the middle of the open space at +the foot of the staircase; there he drew rein and sat motionless on his +horse, awaiting the end. As the ripe corn bends in its furrows to the +wind, so the royal host around turned to the monarch, and fell upon +their faces as the music died away at the signal of the high priest. +With one consent the lords, the priests, the singers and the spearmen +bowed and prostrated themselves on the ground; the bearers of the +litters set down their burden while they did homage; and each of those +beautiful women bent far forward, kneeling in her litter, and hid her +head beneath her veil. + +Only the king sat erect and motionless upon his steed, in the midst of +the adoring throng. The light from the palace played strangely on his +face, making the sneering smile more scornful upon his pale lips, and +shading his sunken eyes with a darker shadow. + +While you might count a score there was silence, and the faint evening +breeze wafted the sweet smell of the roses from the gardens to the +king's nostrils, as though even the earth would bring incense of +adoration to acknowledge his tremendous power. + +Then the host rose again and fell back on either side while the king +rode to the staircase and dismounted, leading the way to the banquet; +and the high priest followed him and all the ranks of the lords and +princes and the ladies of Babylon, in their beauty and magnificence, +went up the marble steps and under the marble porch, spreading then like +a river, about the endless tables, almost to the feet of the golden +image of Nebuchadnezzar. And presently, from beneath the colonnades a +sound of sweet music stole out again and filled the air; the serving-men +hurried hither and thither, the black slaves plied their palm-leaf fans +behind each guest, and the banquet was begun. + +Surely, a most glorious feast, wherein the hearts of the courtiers waxed +merry, and the dark eyes of the Assyrian women shot glances sweeter than +the sweetmeats of Egypt and stronger than the wine of the south to move +the spirit of man. Even the dark king, wasted and hollow-eyed with too +much pleasure-seeking, smiled and laughed,--sourly enough at first, it +is true, but in time growing careless and merry by reason of his deep +draughts. His hand trembled less weakly as the wine gave him back his +lost strength, and more than once his fingers toyed playfully with the +raven locks and the heavy earrings of the magnificent princess at his +elbow. Some word of hers roused a thought in his whirling brain. + +"Is not this day the feast of victories?" he cried in sudden animation; +and there was silence to catch the king's words. "Is not this the day +wherein my sire brought home the wealth of the Israelites, kept holy +with feasting for ever? Bring me the vessels of the unbelievers' temple, +that I may drink and pour out wine this night to Bel, the god of gods!" + +The keeper of the treasure had anticipated the king's desire and had +caused everything to be made ready; for scarcely had Belshazzar spoken +when a long train of serving-men entered the hall of the banquet and +came and stood before the royal presence, their white garments and the +rich vessels they bore aloft standing vividly out against the deep even +red of the opposite wall. + +"Let the vessels be distributed among us," cried the king,--"to every +man a cup or a goblet till all are served." + +And so it was done, and the royal cup-bearer came and filled the huge +chalice that the king held, and the serving-men hastened to fill all the +cups and the small basins; while the lords and princes laughed at the +strange shapes, and eyed greedily enough the thickness and the good +workmanship of the gold and silver. And so each man and each woman had a +vessel from the temple of Jerusalem wherein to drink to the glory of Bel +the god and of Belshazzar his prince. And when all was ready, the king +took his chalice in his two hands and stood up, and all that company of +courtiers stood up with him, while a mighty strain of music burst +through the perfumed air, and the serving-men showered flowers and +sprinkled sweet odours on the tables. + +Without stood the Angel of Death, whetting his sword upon the stones of +Babylon. But Belshazzar held the chalice and spoke with a loud voice to +the princes and the lords and the fair women that stood about the tables +in the great hall: + +"I, Belshazzar the king, standing in the hall of my fathers, do pour +and drink this wine to the mighty majesty of Bel the great god, who +lives for ever and ever; before whom the gods of the north and of the +west and of the east and of the south are as the sand of the desert in +the blast; at whose sight the vain deities of Egypt crumbled into +pieces, and the God of the Israelites trembled and was made little in +the days of Nebuchadnezzar my sire. And I command you, lords and princes +of Babylon, you and your wives and your fair women, that ye also do pour +wine and drink it, doing this homage to Bel our god, and to me, +Belshazzar the king." + +And so saying, he turned about to one side and spilled a few drops of +wine upon the marble floor, and set the cup to his lips, facing the +great throng of his guests; and he drank. But from all the banquet went +up a great shout. + +"Hail! king, live for ever! Hail! prince of Bel, live for ever! Hail! +king of kings, live for ever!" Long and loud was the cry, ringing and +surging through the pillars and up to the great carved rafters till the +very walls seemed to rock and tremble with the din of the king's praise. + +Slowly Belshazzar drained the cup to the dregs, while with half-closed +eyes he listened to the uproar, and perhaps sneered to himself behind +the chalice, as was his wont. Then he set the vessel down and looked up. +But as he looked he staggered and turned pale, and would have fallen; he +grasped the ivory chair behind him and stood trembling in every joint, +and his knees knocking together, while his eyes seemed starting from +his head, and all his face was changed and distorted with dreadful fear. + +Upon the red plaster of the wall, over against the candlestick which +shed its strong rays upon the fearful sight, the fingers of a vast hand +moved and traced letters. Only the fingers could be seen, colossal and +of dazzling brightness, and as they slowly did their work, huge +characters of fire blazed out upon the dark red surface, and their +lambent angry flame dazzled those who beheld, and the terror of terrors +fell upon all the great throng; for they stood before Him whose shadow +is immortality and death. + +In a silence that could be felt, the dread hand completed its message +and vanished out of sight, but the strange fire burned bright in the +horrid characters of the writing that remained upon the wall. + +This was the inscription in Chaldean letters: + + SUTMM + IPKNN + NRLAA + +Then at last the king found speech and shrieked aloud wildly, and he +commanded that they should bring in all the astrologers, the Chaldeans +and the diviners, for he was in great terror and he dreaded some fearful +and imminent catastrophe. + +"Whoever shall read this writing," he cried, his voice changed and +broken, "and declare to me the meaning of it, shall be clothed in +purple, and shall have a chain of gold about his neck and shall rule as +the third in the kingdom." + +Amidst the mighty confusion of fear, the wise men were brought in before +the king. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +In Ecbatana of Media Daniel dwelt in his extreme old age. There he built +himself a tower within the seven-fold walls of the royal fortress, upon +the summit of the hill, looking northward towards the forests of the +mountains, and southward over the plain, and eastward to the river, and +westward to Mount Zagros. His life was spent, and he was well-nigh a +hundred years old. Seventeen years had passed since he had interpreted +the fatal writing on the wall of the banquet-hall in Babylon in the +night when Nabonnedon Belshazzar was slain, and the kingdom of the +Assyrians destroyed for ever. Again and again invested with power and +with the governorship of provinces, he had toiled unceasingly in the +reigns of Cyrus and Cambyses, and though he was on the very boundary of +possible lifetime, his brain was unclouded, and his eye keen and +undimmed still. Only his grand figure was more bent and his step slower +than before. + +He dwelt in Ecbatana of the north, in the tower he had built for +himself.[1] In the midst of the royal palaces of the stronghold he had +laid the foundations duly to the north and south, and story upon story +had risen, row upon row of columns, balcony upon balcony of black +marble, sculptured richly from basement to turret, and so smooth and +hard, that its polished corners and sides and ornaments glittered like +black diamonds in the hot sun of the noonday, and cast back the +moonbeams at night in a darkly brilliant reflection. + + [Footnote 1: Josephus, _Antiquities of the Jews_, book x. chap. + xi. 7.] + +Far down below, in the gorgeous dwellings that filled the interior of +the fortress, dwelt the kinsfolk of the aged prophet, and the families +of the two Levites who had remained with Daniel and had chosen to +follow him to his new home in Media rather than to return to Jerusalem +under Zerubbabel, when Cyrus issued the writ for the rebuilding of the +temple. There lived also in the palace Zoroaster, the Persian prince, +being now in the thirty-first year of his age, and captain of the city +and of the stronghold. And there, too, surrounded by her handmaidens and +slaves, in a wing of the palace apart from the rest, and more beautiful +for its gardens and marvellous adornment, lived Nehushta, the last of +the descendants of Jehoiakim the king remaining in Media; she was the +fairest of all the women in Media, of royal blood and of more than royal +beauty. + +She was born in that year when Babylon was overthrown, and Daniel had +brought her with him to Shushan when he had quitted Assyria, and thence +to Ecbatana. In the care of the prophet's kinswomen the little maid had +thriven and grown fair in the stranger's land. Her soft child's eyes had +lost their wondering look and had turned very proud and dark, and the +long black lashes that fringed the heavy lids drooped to her cheek when +she looked down. Her features were noble and almost straight in outline, +but in the slight bend, at the beginning of the nose, in the wide curved +nostrils, the strong full lips, and in the pale olive skin, where the +blood ebbed and flowed so generously, the signs of the Jewish race were +all present and unmistakable. + +Nehushta, the high-born lady of Judah, was a princess in every movement, +in every action, in every word she uttered. The turn of her proud head +was sovereign in its expression of approval or contempt, and Zoroaster +himself bowed to the simple gesture of her hand as obediently as he +would have done before the Great King in all his glory. Even the +venerable prophet, sitting in his lofty tower high above the city and +the fortress, absorbed in the contemplation of that other life which was +so very near to him, smiled tenderly and stretched out his old hands to +greet Nehushta when she mounted to his chamber at sunset, attended by +her maidens and her slaves. She was the youngest of all his +kinsfolk--fatherless and motherless, the last direct descendant of King +Jehoiakim remaining in Media, and the aged prophet and governor +cherished her and loved her for her royalty, as well as for her beauty +and her kinship to himself. Assyrian in his education, Persian in his +adherence to the conquering dynasty and in his long and faithful service +of the Persians, Daniel was yet in his heart, as in his belief, a true +son of Judah; proud of his race and tender of its young branches, as +though he were himself the father of his country and the king of his +people. + +The last red glow of the departed day faded and sank above the black +Zagros mountains to westward. The opposite sky was cold and gray, and +all the green plain turned to a dull soft hue as the twilight crept +over it, ever darker and more misty. In the gardens of the palace the +birds in thousands sang together in chorus, as only Eastern birds do +sing at sunrise and at nightfall, and their voices sounded like one +strong, sweet, high chord, unbroken and drawn out. + +Nehushta wandered in the broad paths alone. The dry warm air of the +summer's evening had no chill in it, and though a fine woven mantle of +purple from Srinagur hung loosely from her shoulders, she needed not to +draw it about her. The delicate folds of her upper tunic fell closely +around her to her knees, and were gathered at the waist by a magnificent +belt of wrought gold and pearls; the long sleeves, drawn in at the wrist +by clasps of pearls, almost covered her slender hands; and as she walked +her delicate feet moved daintily in rich embroidered sandals with high +golden heels, below the folds of the wide trousers of white and gold +embroidery, gathered in at the ankle. Upon her head the stiff linen +tiara of spotless white sat proudly as a royal crown, the folds of it +held by a single pearl of price, and from beneath it her magnificent +hair rolled down below her waist in dark smooth waves. + +There was a terrace that looked eastward from the gardens. Thither +Nehushta bent her steps, slowly, as though in deep thought, and when she +reached the smooth marble balustrade, she leaned over it and let her +dark eyes rest on the quiet landscape. The peace of the evening +descended upon her; the birds of the day ceased singing with the growing +darkness; and slowly, out of the plain, the yellow moon soared up and +touched the river and the meadows with mystic light; while far off, in +the rose-thickets of the gardens, the first notes of a single +nightingale floated upon the scented breeze, swelling and trilling, +quivering and falling again, in a glory of angelic song. The faint air +fanned her cheek, the odours of the box and the myrtle and the roses +intoxicated her senses, and as the splendid shield of the rising moon +cast its broad light into her dreaming eyes, her heart overflowed, and +Nehushta the princess lifted up her voice and sang an ancient song of +love, in the tongue of her people, to a soft minor melody, that sounded +like a sigh from the southern desert. + + _"Come unto me, my beloved, in the warmth of the darkness, come-- + Rise, and hasten thy footsteps, to be with me at night-time, come! + + "I wait in the darkness for him, and the sand of the desert whirling + Is blown at the door of my tent which is open toward the desert. + + "My ear in the darkness listeth for the sound of his coming nearer, + Mine eyes watch for him and rest not, for I would not he found me + sleeping. + + "For when my beloved cometh, he is like the beam of the morning;[2] + Ev'n as the dawn in a strange land to the sight of a man journeying. + + "Yea, when my beloved cometh, as dew that descendeth from heaven, + No man can hear when it falleth, but as rain it refresheth all + things. + + "In his hand bringeth he lilies, in his right hand are many flowers, + Roses hath he on his forehead, he is crowned with roses from Shinar. + + "The night-winds make sweet songs for him, even in the darkness soft + music; + Whithersoever he goeth, there his sweetness goeth before him."_ + + [Footnote 2: "Thou art to me as the beam of the east rising in + a strange land."--_Ossian_.] + +Her young voice died away in a soft murmuring cadence, and the +nightingale alone poured out her heartful of lore to the ancient moon. +But as Nehushta rested immovable by the marble balustrade of the +terrace, there was a rustle among the myrtles and a quick step on the +pavement. The dark maiden started at the sound, and a happy smile parted +her lips. But she did not turn to look; only her hand stole out behind +her on the marble where she knew her lover's would meet it. There was in +the movement all the certainty of conquest and yet all the tenderness of +love. The Persian trod quickly and laid his hand on hers, and bent to +her, trying to meet her eyes: for one moment still she gazed out +straight before her, then turned and faced him suddenly, as though she +had withheld her welcome as long as she could and then given it all at +once. + +"I did not call you," she said, covering him with her eyes in the +moonlight, but making as though she would withdraw herself a little from +him, as he drew her with his hand, and with his arm, and with his eyes. + +"And yet I heard you call me, my beloved," answered Zoroaster. "I heard +your voice singing very sweet things in your own language--and so I +came, for you did call me." + +"But did you pride yourself it was for you?" laughed Nehushta. "I sang +of the desert, and of tents, and of whirling sand--there is none of +these things here." + +"You said that your beloved brought roses in his hand--and so I do. I +will crown you with them. May I? No--I shall spoil your head-dress. Take +them and do as you will with them." + +"I will take them--and--I always do as I will." + +"Then will to take the giver also," answered Zoroaster, letting his arm +steal about her, as he half sat upon the balustrade. Nehushta looked at +him again, for he was good to see, and perhaps she loved his straight +calm features the better in that his face was fair, and not dark like +hers. + +"Methinks I have taken the giver already," she answered. + +"Not yet--not all," said Zoroaster in a low voice, and a shadow of +sadness crossed his noble face that looked white in the moonlight. +Nehushta sighed softly and presently she laid her cheek upon his +shoulder where the folding of his purple mantle made a pillow between +her face and the polished golden scales of his breastplate. + +"I have strange news to tell you, beloved," said Zoroaster presently. +Nehushta started and looked up, for his voice was sad. "Nay, fear not!" +he continued, "there is no harm in it, I trust; but there are great +changes in the kingdom, and there will be greater changes yet. The seven +princes have slain Smerdis in Shushan, and Darius is chosen king, the +son of Gushtasp, whom the Greeks call Hystaspes." + +"He who came hither last year?" asked Nehushta quickly. "He is not fair, +this new king." + +"Not fair," replied the Persian, "but a brave man and a good. He has, +moreover, sent for me to go to Shushan--" + +"For you!" cried Nehushta, suddenly laying her two hands on Zoroaster's +shoulders and gazing into his eyes. His face was to the moonlight, while +hers was in the dark, and she could see every shade of expression. He +smiled. "You laugh at me!" she cried indignantly. "You mock me--you are +going away and you are glad!" + +She would have turned away from him, but he held her two hands. + +"Not alone," he answered. "The Great King has sent an order that I shall +bring to Shushan the kinsfolk of Jehoiakim, saving only Daniel, our +master, for he is so old that he cannot perform the journey. The king +would honour the royal seed of Judah, and to that end he sends for you, +most noble and most beloved princess." + +Nehushta was silent and thoughtful; her hand slipped from Zoroaster's +grasp, and her eyes looked dreamily out at the river, on which the beams +of the now fully-risen moon glanced, as on the scales of a silver +serpent. + +"Are you glad, my beloved?" asked Zoroaster. He stood with his back to +the balustrade, leaning on one elbow, and his right hand played +carelessly with the heavy gold tassels of his cloak. He had come up from +the fortress in his armour, as he was, to bring the news to Nehushta and +to Daniel; his gilded harness was on his back, half-hidden by the ample +purple cloak, his sword was by his side, and on his head he wore the +pointed helmet, richly inlaid with gold, bearing in front the winged +wheel which the sovereigns of the Persian empire had assumed after the +conquest of Assyria. His very tall and graceful body seemed planned to +combine the greatest possible strength with the most surpassing +activity, and in his whole presence there breathed the consciousness of +ready and elastic power, the graceful elasticity of a steel bow always +bent, the inexpressible ease of motion and the matchless swiftness that +men had when the world was young--that wholeness of harmonious +proportion which alone makes rest graceful, and the inactivity of +idleness itself like a mode of perfect motion. As they stood there +together, the princess of Judah and the noble Persian, they were wholly +beautiful and yet wholly contrasted--the Semite and the Aryan, the dark +race of the south, on which the hot air of the desert had breathed for +generations in the bondage of Egypt, and left its warm sign-manual of +southern sunshine,--and the fair man of the people whose faces were +already set northwards, on whom the north breathed already its icy +fairness, and magnificent coldness of steely strength. + +"Are you glad, my beloved?" asked Zoroaster again, looking up and laying +his right hand on the princess's arm. She had given no answer to his +question, but only gazed dreamily out over the river. + +She seemed about to speak, then paused again, then hesitated and +answered his question by another. + +"Zoroaster--you love me," again she paused, and, as he passionately +seized her hands and pressed his lips to them, she said softly, turning +her head away, "What is love?" + +He, too, waited one moment before he answered, and, standing to his +lordly height, took her head between his hands and pressed it to his +breast; then, with one arm around her, he stood looking eastward and +spoke: + +"Listen, my beloved, and I, who love you, will tell you what love is. In +the far-off dawn of the soul-life, in the ethereal distance of the outer +firmament, in the mist of the star-dust, our spirits were quickened with +the spirit of God, and found one another, and met. Before earth was for +us, we were one; before time was for us, we were one--even as we shall +be one when there is no time for us any more. Then Ahura Mazda, the +all-wise God, took our two souls from among the stars, and set them in +the earth, clothed for a time with mortal bodies. But we know each +other, that we were together from the first, although these earthly +things obscure our immortal vision, and we see each other less clearly. +Yet is our love none the less--rather, it seems every day greater, for +our bodies can feel joy and sorrow, even as our spirits do; so that I am +able to suffer for you, in which I rejoice, and I would that I might be +chosen to lay down my life for you, that you might know how I love you; +for often you doubt me, and sometimes you doubt yourself. There should +be no doubt in love. Love is from the first, and will be to the end, and +beyond the end; love is so eternal, so great, so whole, that this mortal +life of ours is but as a tiny instant, a moment of pausing in our +journey from one star-world to another along the endless paths of +heavenly glory we shall tread, together--it is nothing, this worldly +life of ours. Before it shall seem long that we have loved, this earth +we stand on, these things we touch, these bodies of ours that we think +so strong and fair, will be forgotten and dissolved into their elements +in the trackless and undiscoverable waste of past mortality, while we +ourselves are ever young, and ever fair, and for ever living in our +immortal love." + +Nehushta looked up wonderingly into her lover's eyes, then let her head +rest on his shoulder. The high daring of his thoughts seemed ever trying +to scale heaven itself, seeking to draw her to some wondrous region of +mystic beauty and strange spirit life. She was awed for a moment, then +she, too, spoke in her own fashion. + +"I love life," she said, "I love you because you live, not because you +are a spirit chained and tied down for a time. I love this soft sweet +earth, the dawn of it, and the twilight of it; I love the sun in his +rising and in his setting; I love the moon in her fulness and in her +waning; I love the smell of the box and of the myrtle, of the roses and +of the violets; I love the glorious light of day, the splendour of heat +and greenness, the song of the birds of the air and the song of the +labourer in the field, the hum of the locust, and the soft buzzing of +the bee; I love the brightness of gold and the richness of fine purple, +the tramp of your splendid guards and the ring of their trumpets +clanging in the fresh morning, as they march through the marble courts +of the palace. I love the gloom of night for its softness, the song of +the nightingale in the ivory moonlight, the rustle of the breeze in the +dark rose-thickets, and the odour of the sleeping flowers in my gardens; +I love even the cry of the owl from the prophet's tower, and the soft +thick sound of the bat's wings, as he flits past the netting of my +window. I love it all, for the whole earth is rich and young and good to +touch, and most sweet to live in. And I love you because you are more +beautiful than other men, fairer and stronger and braver, and because +you love me, and will let no other love me but yourself, if you were to +die for it. Ah, my beloved, I would that I had all the sweet voices of +the earth, all the tuneful tongues of the air, to tell you how I love +you!" + +"There is no lack of sweetness, nor of eloquence, my princess," said +Zoroaster; "there is no need of any voice sweeter than yours, nor of any +tongue more tuneful. You love in your way, I in mine; the two together +must surely be the perfect whole. Is it not so? Nay--seal the deed once +again--and again--so! 'Love is stronger than death,' says your +preacher." + +"'And jealousy is as cruel as the grave,' he says, too," added Nehushta, +her eyes flashing fire as her lips met his. "You must never make me +jealous, Zoroaster, never, never! I would be so cruel--you cannot dream +how cruel I would be!" + +Zoroaster laughed under his silken beard, a deep, joyous, ringing laugh +that startled the moonlit stillness. + +"By Nabon and Bel, there is small cause for your jealousy here," he +said. + +"Swear not by your false gods!" laughed Nehushta. "You know not how +little it would need to rouse me." + +"I will not give you that little," answered the Persian. "And as for the +false gods, they are well enough for a man to swear by in these days. +But I will swear by any one you command me, or by anything!" + +"Swear not, or you will say again that the oath has need of sealing," +replied Nehushta, drawing her mantle around her, so as to cover half her +face. "Tell me, when are we to begin our journey? We have talked much +and have said little, as it ever is. Shall we go at once, or are we to +wait for another order? Is Darius safe upon the throne? Who is to be +chiefest at the court--one of the seven princes, I suppose, or his old +father? Come, do you know anything of all these changes? Why have you +never told me what was going to happen--you who are high in power and +know everything?" + +"Your questions flock upon me like doves to a maiden who feeds them +from her hand," said Zoroaster, with a smile, "and I know not which +shall be fed first. As for the king, I know that he will be great, and +will hold securely the throne, for he has already the love of the people +from the Western sea to the wild Eastern mountains. But it seemed as +though the seven princes would have divided the empire amongst them, +until this news came. I think he will more likely take one of your +people for his close friend than trust to the princes. As for our +journey, we must depart betimes, or the king will have gone before us +from Shushan to Stakhar in the south, where they say he will build +himself a royal dwelling and stay in the coming winter time. Prepare +yourself for the journey, therefore, my princess, lest anything be +forgotten and you should be deprived of what you need for any time." + +"I am never deprived of what I need," said Nehushta, half in pride and +half in jest. + +"Nor I, when I am with my beloved!" answered the Persian. "And now the +moon is high, and I must bear this news to our master, the prophet." + +"So soon?" said Nehushta reproachfully, and she turned her head away. + +"I would there were no partings, my beloved, even for the space of an +hour," answered Zoroaster, tenderly drawing her to him; but she resisted +a little and would not look at him. + +"Farewell now--good-night, my princess--light of my soul;" he kissed her +dark cheek passionately. "Good-night!" + +He trod swiftly across the terrace. + +"Zoroaster! prince!" Nehushta called aloud, but without turning. He +came back. She threw her arms about his neck and kissed him almost +desperately. Then she pushed him gently away from her. + +"Go--my love--only that," she murmured, and he left her standing by the +marble balustrade, while the yellow moon turned slowly pale as she rose +in the heavens, and the song of the lorn nightingale re-echoed in the +still night, from the gardens to the towers, in long sweet cries of +burning love, and soft, complaining, silvery notes of mingled sorrow and +joy. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +In the prophet's chamber, also, the moonbeams fell upon the marble +floor; but a seven-beaked Hebrew lamp of bronze shed a warmer light +around, soft and mellow, yet strong enough to illuminate the scroll that +lay open upon the old man's knee. His brows were knit together, and the +furrows on his face were shaded deeply by the high light, as he sat +propped among many cushions and wrapped in his ample purple cloak that +was thickly lined with fur and drawn together over his snowy beard; for +the years of his life were nearly accomplished, and the warmth of his +body was even then leaving him. + +Zoroaster raised the heavy curtain of carpet that hung before the low +square door, and came and bowed himself before the teacher of his youth +and the friend of his manhood. The prophet looked up keenly, and +something like a smile crossed his stern features as his eyes rested on +the young officer in his magnificent armour; Zoroaster held his helmet +in his hand, and his fair hair fell like a glory to his shoulders, +mingling with his silky beard upon his breastplate. His dark blue eyes +met his master's fearlessly. + +"Hail! and live for ever, chosen of the Lord!" he said in salutation. "I +bring tidings of great moment and importance. If it be thy pleasure, I +will speak; but if not, I will come at another season." + +"Sit upon my right hand, Zoroaster, and tell me all that thou hast to +tell. Art thou not my beloved son, whom the Lord hath given me to +comfort mine old age?" + +"I am thy servant and the servant of thine house, my father," answered +Zoroaster, seating himself upon a carved chair at a little distance from +the prophet. + +"Speak, my son,--what tidings hast thou?" + +"There is a messenger come in haste from Shushan, bearing tidings and +letters. The seven princes have slain Smerdis in his house, and have +chosen Darius the son of Gushtasp to be king." + +"Praise be to the Lord who hath chosen a just man!" exclaimed the +prophet devoutly. "So may good come out of evil, and salvation by the +shedding of blood." + +"Even so, my master," answered Zoroaster. "It is also written that +Darius, may he live for ever, will establish himself very surely upon +the throne of the Medes and Persians. There are letters by the hand of +the same messenger, sealed with the signet of the Great King, wherein I +am bidden to bring the kinsfolk of Jehoiakim, who was king over Judah, +to Shushan without delay, that the Great King may do them honour as is +meet and right; but what that honour may be that he would do to them, I +know not." + +"What is this that thou sayest?" asked Daniel, starting forward from his +reclining position, and fixing his dark eyes on Zoroaster. "Will the +king take away from me the children of my old age? Art not thou as my +son? And is not Nehushta as my daughter? As for the rest, I care not if +they go. But Nehushta is as the apple of my eye! She is as a fair flower +growing in the desert of my years! What is this that the king hath done +to me? Whither will he take her from me?" + +"Let not my lord be troubled," said Zoroaster, earnestly, for he was +moved by the sudden grief of the prophet. "Let not my lord be troubled. +It is but for a space, for a few weeks; and thy kinsfolk will be with +thee again, and I also." + +"A space, a few weeks! What is a space to thee, child, or a week that +thou shouldest regard it? But I am old and full of years. It may be, if +now thou takest my daughter Nehushta from me, that I shall see her face +no more, neither thine, before I go hence and return not. Go to! Thou +art young, but I am now nigh unto a hundred years old." + +"Nevertheless, if it be the will of the Great King, I must accomplish +this thing," answered the young man. "But I will swear by thy head and +by mine that there shall no harm happen to the young princess; and if +anything happen to her that is evil, may the Lord do so to me and more +also. Behold, I have sworn; let not my lord be troubled any more." + +But the prophet bowed his head and covered his face with his hands. Aged +and childless, Zoroaster and Nehushta were to him children, and he loved +them with his whole soul. Moreover, he knew the Persian Court, and he +knew that if once they were taken into the whirl and eddy of its +intrigue and stirring life, they would not return to Ecbatana; or +returning, they would be changed and seem no more the same. He was +bitterly grieved and hurt at the thought of such a separation, and in +the grand simplicity of his greatness he felt no shame at shedding +tears for them. Zoroaster himself, in the pride of his brilliant youth, +was overcome with pain at the thought of quitting the sage who had been +a father to him for thirty years. He had never been separated from +Daniel save for a few months at a time during the wars of Cambyses; at +six-and-twenty years of age he had been appointed to the high position +of captain of the fortress of Ecbatana; since which time he had enjoyed +the closest intercourse with the prophet, his master. + +Zoroaster was a soldier by force of circumstances, and he wore his +gorgeous arms with matchless grace, but there were two things that, with +him, went before his military profession, and completely eclipsed it in +importance. + +From his earliest youth he had been the pupil of Daniel, who had +inspired him with his own love of the mystic lore to which the prophet +owed so much of his singular success in the service of the Assyrian and +Persian monarchs. The boy's poetical mind, strengthened and developed by +the study of the art of reasoning, and of the profound mathematical +knowledge of the Chaldean astronomers, easily grasped the highest +subjects, and showed from the first a capacity and lucidity that +delighted his master. To attain by a life of rigid ascetic practice to +the intuitive comprehension of knowledge, to the understanding of +natural laws not discernible to the senses alone, and to the merging of +the soul and higher intelligence in the one universal and divine +essence, were the objects Daniel proposed to his willing pupil. The +noble boy, by his very nature, scorned and despised the pleasures of +sense, and yearned ever for the realising of an ideal wherein a sublime +wisdom of transcendent things should direct a sublime courage in things +earthly to the doing of great deeds. + +Year after year the young Persian grew up in the splendid surroundings +of the court, distinguished before all those of his age for his courage +and fearless honesty, for his marvellous beauty, and for his profound +understanding of all subjects, great and small, that came within the +sphere of his activity; most of all remarkable, perhaps, for the fact +that he cared nothing for the society of women, and had never been known +to love any woman. He was a favourite with Cyrus; and even Cambyses, +steeped in degrading vice, and surrounded by flatterers, panderers, and +priests of the Magians, from the time when he began to suspect his +brother, the real Smerdis, of designs upon the throne, recognised the +exceptional merits and gifts of the young noble, and promoted him to his +position in Echatana, at the time when he permitted Daniel to build his +great tower in that ancient fortress. The dissipated king may have +understood that the presence of such men as Daniel and Zoroaster would +be of greater advantage in an outlying district where justice and +moderation would have a good effect upon the population, than in his +immediate neighbourhood, where the purity and temperance of their lives +contrasted too strongly with the degrading spectacle his own vices +afforded to the court. + +Here, in the splendid retirement of a royal palace, the prophet had +given himself up completely to the contemplation of those subjects +which, through all his life, had engrossed his leisure time, and of +which the knowledge had so directly contributed to his singular career; +and in the many hours of leisure which Zoroaster's position allowed him, +Daniel sought to bring the intelligence of the soldier-philosopher to +the perfection of its final development. Living, as he did, entirely in +his tower, save when, at rare intervals, he caused himself to be carried +down to the gardens, the prophet knew little of what went on in the +palace below, so that he sometimes marvelled that his pupil's attention +wandered, and that his language betrayed occasionally a keener interest +in his future, and in the possible vicissitudes of his military life, +than he had formerly been wont to show. + +For a new element had entered into the current of Zoroaster's thoughts. +For years he had seen the lovely child Nehushta growing up. As a boy of +twenty summers he had rocked her on his knee; later he had taught her +and played with her, and seen the little child turn to the slender girl, +haughty and royal in her young ways, and dominating her playfellows as a +little lioness might rule a herd of tamer creatures; and at last her +sixteenth year had brought with it the bloom of early southern +womanhood, and Zoroaster, laughing with her among the roses in the +gardens, on a summer's day, had felt his heart leap and sink within him, +and his own fair cheek grow hot and cold for the ring of her voice and +the touch of her soft hand. + +He who knew so much of mankind, who had lived so long at the court, and +had coldly studied every stage of human nature, where unbridled human +nature ever ruled the hour, knew what he felt; and it was as though he +had received a sharp wound that thrust him through, body and heart and +soul, and cleft his cold pride in two. For days he wandered beneath the +pines and the rhododendron trees alone, lamenting for the fabric of +mighty philosophy he had built himself, in which no woman was ever to +set foot; and which a woman's hand, a woman's eyes had shattered in a +day. It seemed as if his whole life were blasted and destroyed, so that +he was become even as other men, to suffer love and eat his heart out +for a girl's fair word. He would have escaped from meeting the dark +young princess again; but one evening, as he stood alone upon the +terrace of the gardens, sorrowing for the change in himself, she found +him, and there they looked into each other's eyes and saw a new light, +and loved each other fiercely from that day, as only the untainted +children of godlike races could love. But neither of them dared to tell +the prophet, nor to let those of the palace know that they had pledged +each other their troth, down there upon the moonlit terrace, behind the +myrtles. Instinctively they dreaded lest the knowledge of their love +should raise a storm of anger in Daniel's breast at the idea that his +chosen philosopher should abandon the paths of mystic learning and +reduce himself to the level of common mankind by marriage; and Zoroaster +guessed how painful to the true Israelite would be the thought that a +daughter and a princess of Judah should be united in wedlock with one +who, however noble and true and wise, was, after all, a stranger and an +unbeliever. For Zoroaster, while devoting himself heart and soul to the +study of Daniel's philosophy, and of the wisdom the latter had acquired +from the Chaldeans, had nevertheless firmly maintained his independence +of thought. He was not an Israelite, nor would he ever wish to become +one; but he was not an idolater nor a Magian, nor a follower of Gomata, +the half-Indian Brahmin, who had endeavoured to pass himself off as +Smerdis the son of Cyrus. + +Either of these causes alone would have sufficed to raise a serious +obstacle to the marriage. Together they seemed insurmountable. During +the disorder and anarchy that prevailed in the seven months of the reign +of Pseudo-Smerdis, it would have been madness to have married, trusting +to the favour of the wretched semi-monarch for fortune and advancement; +nor could Nehushta have married and maintained her state as a princess +of Judah without the consent of Daniel, who was her guardian, and whose +influence was paramount in Media, and very great even at court. +Zoroaster was therefore driven to conceal his passion as best he could, +trusting to the turn of future events for the accomplishment of his +dearest wish. In the meanwhile, he and the princess met daily in public, +and Zoroaster's position as captain of the fortress gave him numerous +opportunities of meeting Nehushta in the solitude of the gardens, which +were jealously guarded and set apart exclusively for the use of Nehushta +and her household. + +But now that the moment had come when it seemed as though a change were +to take place in the destinies of the lovers, they felt constrained. +Beyond a few simple questions and answers, they had not discussed the +matter of the journey when they were together; for Nehushta was so much +surprised and delighted at the idea of again seeing the magnificence of +the court at Shushan, which she so well remembered from the period of +her childhood, that she feared to let Zoroaster see how glad she was to +leave Ecbatana, which, but for him, would have been to her little better +than a prison. He, on the contrary, thinking that he foresaw an +immediate removal of all obstacle and delay through the favor of Darius, +was, nevertheless, too gentle and delicate of tact to bring suddenly +before Nehushta's mind the prospect of marrying which presented itself +so vividly to his own fancy. But he felt no less disturbed in his heart +when face to face with the old prophet's sorrow at losing his +foster-daughter; and, for the first time in his life, he felt guilty +when he reflected that Daniel was grieved at his own departure almost as +deeply as on account of Nehushta. He experienced what is so common with +persons of cold and even temperament when brought into close relation +with more expansive and affectionate natures; he was overcome with the +sense that his old master gave him more love and more thought than he +could possibly give in return, and that he was therefore ungrateful; and +the knowledge he alone possessed, that he surely intended to marry the +princess in spite of the prophet, and by the help of the king, added +painfully to his mental suffering. + +The silence lasted some minutes, till the old man suddenly lifted his +head and leaned back among his cushions, gazing at his companion's +face. + +"Hast thou no sorrow, nor any regret?" he asked sadly. + +"Nay, my lord doth me injustice," answered Zoroaster, his brows +contracting in his perplexity. "I should be ungrateful if I repented not +leaving thee even for the space of a day. But let my lord be comforted; +this parting is not for long, and before the flocks come down from +Zagros to take shelter from the winter, we will be with thee." + +"Swear to me, then, that thou wilt return before the winter," insisted +the prophet half-scornfully. + +"I cannot swear," answered Zoroaster. "Behold, I am in the hands of the +Great King. I cannot swear." + +"Say rather that thou art in the hand of the Lord, and that therefore +thou canst not swear. For I say thou wilt not return, and I shall see +thy face no more. The winter cometh, and the birds of the air fly +towards the south, and I am alone in the land of snow and frost; and the +spring cometh also, and I am yet alone, and my time is at hand; for thou +comest not any more, neither my daughter Nehushta, neither any of my +kinsfolk. And behold, I go down to the grave alone." + +The yellow light of the hanging lamp above shone upon the old man's +eyes, and there was a dull fire in them. His face was drawn and haggard, +and every line and furrow traced by the struggles of his hundred years +stood out dark and rugged and tremendous in power. Zoroaster shuddered +as he looked on him, and, though he would have spoken, he was awed to +silence. + +"Go forth, my son," cried the prophet in deep tones, and as he spoke he +slowly raised his body till he sat rigidly erect, and his wan and +ancient fingers were stretched out towards the young soldier. "Go forth +and do thy part, for thou art in the hand of the Lord, and some things +that thou wilt do shall be good, and some things evil. For thou hast +departed from the path of crystal that leadeth among the stars, and thou +hast fallen away from the ladder whereby the angels ascend and descend +upon the earth, and thou art gone after the love of a woman which +endureth not. And for a season thou shalt be led astray, and for a time +thou shalt suffer great things; and after a time thou shalt return into +the way; and again a time, and thou shalt perish in thine own +imaginations, because thou hast not known the darkness from the light, +nor the good from the evil. By a woman shalt thou go astray, and from a +woman shalt thou return; yet thou shalt perish. But because there is +some good in thee, it shall endure, and thy name also, for generations; +and though the evil that besetteth thee shall undo thee, yet at the last +thy soul shall live." + +Zoroaster buried his face in his hands, overcome by the majesty of the +mighty prophet and by the terror of his words. + +"Rise and go forth, for the hand of the Lord is upon thee, and no man +can hinder that thou doest. Thou shalt look upon the sun and shalt +delight in him; and again thou shalt look and the light of the air shall +be as darkness. Thou shalt boast in thy strength and in thine armour +that there is none like thee, and again thou shalt cast thy glory from +thee and say, 'This also is vanity.' The king delighteth in thee, and +thou shalt stand before the queen in armour of gold and in fine raiment; +and the end is near, for the hand of the Lord is upon thee. If the Lord +will work great things by thee, what is that to me? Go forth quickly, +and rest not by the way, lest the woman tempt thee and thou perish. And +as for me, I go also--not with thee, but before thee. See that thou +follow after--for I go. Yea, I see even now light in the darkness of the +world, and the glory of the triumph of heaven is over me, triumphing +greatly in the majesty of light." + +Zoroaster looked up and fell to the ground upon his knees in wonder and +amazement at Daniel's feet, while his heavy helmet rolled clanging on +the marble pavement. The prophet stood erect as a giant oak, stretching +his withered hands to heaven, all the mass of his snow-white hair and +beard falling about him to his waist. His face was illuminated as from +within with a strange light, and his dark eyes turned upward seemed to +receive and absorb the brightness of an open heaven. His voice rang +again with the strength of youth, and his whole figure was clothed as +with the majesty of another world. Again he spoke: + +"Behold, the voice of the ages is in me, and the Lord my God hath taken +me up. My days are ended; I am taken up and shall no more be cast down. +The earth departeth and the glory of the Lord is come which hath no end +for ever." + +"The Lord cometh--He cometh quickly. In His right hand are the ages, and +the days and the nights are under His feet. His ranks of the Cherubim +are beside Him, and the armies of the Seraphim are dreadful. The stars +of heaven tremble, and the voice of their moaning is as the voice of the +uttermost fear. The arch of the outer firmament is shivered like a +broken bow, and the curtain of the sky is rent in pieces as a veil in +the tempest. The sun and the moon shriek aloud, and the sea crieth +horribly before the Lord." + +"The nations are extinct as the ashes of a fire that is gone out, and +the princes of the earth are no more. He hath bruised the earth in a +mortar, and the dust of it is scattered abroad in the heavens. The stars +in their might hath He pounded to pieces, and the foundations of the +ages to fine powder. There is nothing of them left, and their voices are +dead. There are dim shapes in the horror of emptiness." + +"But out of the north ariseth a fair glory with brightness, and the +breath of the Lord breatheth life into all things. The beam of the dawn +is risen, and there shall again be times and seasons, and the Being of +the majesty of God is made manifest in form. From the dust of the earth +is the earth made again, and of the beams of His glory shall He make new +stars." + +"Send up the voices of praise, O ye things that are; cry out in +exultation with mighty music! Praise the Lord in whom is Life, and in +whom all things have Being! Praise Him and glorify Him that is risen +with the wings of the morning of heaven; in whose breath the stars +breathe, in whose brightness also the firmament is lightened! Praise Him +who maketh the wheels of the spheres to run their courses; who maketh +the flowers to bloom in the spring, and the little flowers of the field +to give forth their sweetness! Praise Him, winter and summer; praise +Him, cold and heat! Praise Him, stars of heaven; praise Him, men and +women in the earth! Praise and glory and honour be unto the Most High +Jehovah, who sitteth upon the Throne for ever, and ever, and ever...." + +The prophet's voice rang out with tremendous force and majestic +clearness as he uttered the last words. Throwing up his arms to their +height, he stood one moment longer, immovable, his face radiantly +illuminated with an unearthly glory. One instant he stood there, and +then fell back, straight and rigid, to his length upon the cushioned +floor--dead! + +Zoroaster started to his feet in amazement and horror, and stood staring +at the body of his master and friend lying stiff and stark beneath the +yellow light of the hanging lamp. Then suddenly he sprang forward and +kneeled again beside the pale noble head that looked so grand in death. +He took one of the hands and chafed it, he listened for the beating of +the heart that beat no more, and sought for the stirring of the least +faint breath of lingering life. But he sought in vain; and there, in the +upper chamber of the tower, the young warrior fell upon his face and +wept alone by the side of the mighty dead. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +Thus died Daniel, and for seven days the women sat apart upon the ground +and mourned him, while the men embalmed his body and made it ready for +burial. They wrapped him in much fine linen and poured out very precious +spices and ointments from the store-houses of the palaces. Round about +his body they burned frankincense and myrrh and amber, and the gums of +the Indian benzoe and of the Persian fir, and great candles of pure wax; +for all the seven days the mourners from the city made a great mourning, +ceasing not to sing the praises of the prophet and to cry aloud by day +and night that the best and the worthiest and the greatest of all men +was dead. + +Thus they watched and mourned, and sang his great deeds. And in the +lower chamber of the tower the women sat upon the floor, with Nehushta +in their midst, and sorrowed greatly, fasting and mourning in raiment of +sackcloth, and strewing ashes upon the floor and upon themselves. +Nehushta's face grew thin and very pale and her lips white in that time, +and she let her heavy hair hang neglected about her. Many of the men +shaved their heads and went barefooted, and the fortress and the palaces +were filled with the sound of weeping and grief. The Hebrews who were +there mourned their chief, and the two Levites sat beside the dead man +and read long chapters from their scriptures. The Medes mourned their +great and just governor, under the Assyrian name of Belteshazzar, given +first to Daniel by Nebuchadnezzar; and from all the town the noise of +their weeping and mourning came up, like the mighty groan of a nation, +to the ears of those that dwelt in the fortress and the palace. + +On the eighth day they buried him, with pomp and state, in a tomb in the +garden which they had built during the week of mourning. The two Levites +and a young Hebrew and Zoroaster himself, clad in sackcloth and +barefooted, raised up the prophet's body upon a bier and bore him upon +their shoulders down the broad staircase of the tower and out into the +garden to his tomb. The mourners went before, many hundreds of Median +women with dishevelled hair, rending their dresses of sackcloth and +scattering ashes upon their path and upon their heads, crying aloud in +wild voices of grief and piercing the air with their screams, till they +came to the tomb and stood round about it while the four men laid their +master in his great coffin of black marble beneath the pines and the +rhododendrons. And the pipers followed after, making shrill and dreadful +music that sounded as though some supernatural beings added their voices +to the universal wail of woe. And on either side of the body walked the +women, the prophet's kinsfolk; but Nehushta walked by Zoroaster, and +ever and anon, as the funeral procession wound through the myrtle walks +of the deep gardens, her dark and heavy eyes stole a glance sidelong at +her strong fair lover. His face was white as death and set sternly +before him, and his dishevelled hair and golden beard flowed wildly +over the rough coarseness of his long sackcloth garments. But his step +never faltered, though he walked barefooted upon the hard gravel, and +from the upper chamber of the tower whence they bore the corpse to the +very moment when they laid it in the tomb, his face never changed, +neither looked he to the right nor to the left. And then, at last, when +they had lowered their beloved master with linen bands to his last +resting-place, and the women came near with boxes of nard and ambergris +and precious ointments, Zoroaster looked long and fixedly at the swathed +head, and the tears rolled down his cheeks and dropped upon his beard +and upon the marble of the coffin; till at last he turned in silence, +and went away through the multitude that parted before him, as pale as +the dead and answering no man's greeting, nor even glancing at Nehushta +who had stood at his elbow. And he went away and hid himself for the +rest of that day. + +But in the evening, when the sun was gone down, he came and stood upon +the terrace in the darkness, for there was no moon. He wore again his +arms, and his purple cloak was about him, for he had his duty to perform +in visiting the fortress. The starlight glimmered faintly on his +polished helmet and duskily made visible his marble features and his +beard. He stood with his back to the pillars of the balustrade, looking +towards the myrtles of the garden, for he knew that Nehushta would come +to the wonted tryst. He waited long, but at last he heard a step upon +the gravel path and the rustle of the myrtles, and presently in the +faint light he could see the white skirt of her garment beneath the dark +mantle moving swiftly towards him. He sprang forward to meet her and +would have taken her in his arms, but she put him back and looked away +from him while she walked slowly to the front of the terrace. Even in +the gloom of the starlight Zoroaster could see that something had +offended her, and a cold weight seemed to fall upon his breast and +chilled the rising words of loving greeting. + +Zoroaster followed her and laid his hand upon her shoulder. +Unresponsive, she allowed it to remain there. + +"My beloved," he said at last, trying in vain to look into her averted +face, "have you no word for me to-night?" Still she answered nothing. +"Has your sorrow made you forget our love?" he murmured close to her +ear. She started back from him a little and looked at him. Even in the +dusk he could see her eyes flash as she answered: + +"Had not your own sorrow so utterly got the mastery over you to-day that +you even refused to look at me?" she asked. "In all that long hour when +we were so near together, did you give me one glance? You had forgotten +me in the extremity of your grief!" she cried, scornfully. "And now that +the first torrent of your tears has dwindled to a little stream, you +have time to remember me! I thank my lord for the notice he deigns to +give his handmaiden, but--I need it not. Well--why are you here?" + +Zoroaster stood up to his height and folded his arms deliberately, +facing Nehushta, and he spoke calmly, though there was in his voice the +dulness of a great and sudden pain. He knew men well enough, but he knew +little of women. + +"There is a time to be sorrowful and a time for joy," he said. "There is +a time for weeping and a time for the glances of love. I did as I did, +because when a man has a great grief for one dead and when he desires to +show his sorrow in doing honour to one who has been as a father to him, +it is not meet that other thoughts should be in his mind; not even those +thoughts which are most dear to him and nearest to his heart. Therefore +I looked not at you when we were burying our master, and though I love +you and in my heart look ever on your face, yet to-day my eyes were +turned from you and I saw you not. Wherefore are you angry with me?" + +"I am not angry," said Nehushta, "but think you love me little that you +turn from me so easily." She looked down, and her face was quite hidden +in the dark shadow. Then Zoroaster put his arm about her neck and drew +her to him, and, though she resisted a little, in a moment her head +rested on his breast. Then she struggled again. + +"Nay, let me go, for you do not love me!" she said, half in a whisper. +But he held her close. + +"Nay, but you shall not go, for I do love you," he answered tenderly. + +"Shall not?" cried she, turning in his arms, half fiercely; then her +voice sank and thrilled softly. "Say that I will not," she murmured, and +her arms went round him and pressed him passionately to her. "Oh, my +beloved, why do you ever seem so cold? so cold--when I so love you?" + +"I am not cold," he said fondly, "and I love you beyond all power of +words to tell. Said we not that you had your way and I mine? Who shall +tell us which is the sweeter music when both unite in so grand a +harmony? Only doubt not, for doubting is as the drop that falls from the +eaves upon the marble corner-stone, and, by ever falling, wears furrows +in the stone that the whole ocean could not soften." + +"I will not doubt any more," said Nehushta suddenly, "only--can you not +love me a little sometimes in the way I do you? It is so sweet,--my way +of loving." + +"Indeed I will try, for it is very sweet," answered Zoroaster, and, +bending down, he kissed her lips. Far off from the tower the melancholy +cry of an owl echoed sadly across the gardens, and a cool damp breeze +sprang up suddenly, from the east. Nehushta shuddered slightly, and drew +her cloak about her. + +"Let us walk upon the terrace," she said, "it is cold to-night--is not +this the last night here?" + +"Yes; to-morrow we must go hence upon our journey. This is the last +night." + +Nehushta drew closer to her lover as they paced the terrace together, +and each wound one arm about the other. For some minutes they walked in +silence, each perhaps recalling the many meetings upon that very terrace +since the first time their lips met in love under the ivory moonlight of +the month Tammuz, more than a year ago. At last Nehushta spoke. + +"Know you this new king?" she asked. "I saw him but for a few moments +last year. He was a young prince, but he is not fair." + +"A young prince with an old man's head upon his shoulders," answered +Zoroaster. "He is a year younger than I--but I would not have his +battles to fight; nor, if I had, would I have taken Atossa to be my +wife." + +"Atossa?" repeated Nehushta. + +"Yes. The king has already married her--she was the wife of Cambyses, +and also of the false Smerdis, the Magian, whom Darius has slain." + +"Is she fair? Have I not seen her?" asked Nehushta quickly. + +"Indeed, you must have seen her at the court in Shushan, before we came +to Ecbatana. She was just married to Cambyses then, but he regarded her +little, for he was ever oppressed with wine and feasting. But you were a +child then, and were mostly with the women of your house, and you may +not have seen her." + +"Tell me--had she not blue eyes and yellow hair? Had she not a cruel +face--very cold?" + +"Aye, it may be that she had a hard look. I remember that her eyes were +blue. She was very unhappy; therefore she helped the Magian. It was not +she that betrayed him." + +"You pitied her even then, did you not?" asked Nehushta. + +"Yes--she deserved pity." + +"She will have her revenge now. A woman with a face like hers loves +revenge." + +"Then she will deserve pity no longer," said Zoroaster, with a slight +laugh. + +"I hate her!" said the princess, between her teeth. + +"Hate her? How can you hate a woman you have never more than seen, and +she has done you no evil in the world?" + +"I am sure I shall hate her," answered Nehushta. "She is not at all +beautiful--only cold and white and cruel. How could the Great King be so +foolish as to marry her?" + +"May he live for ever! He marries whom he pleases. But I pray you, do +not begin by hating the queen overmuch." + +"Why not? What have I to gain from the queen?" asked the princess. "Am I +not of royal blood as well as she?" + +"That is true," returned Zoroaster. "Nevertheless there is a prudence +for princesses as well as for other people." + +"I would not be afraid of the Great King himself with you beside me," +said Nehushta proudly. "But I will be prudent to please you. Only--I am +sure I shall hate her." + +Zoroaster smiled to himself in the dusk, but he would not have had the +princess see he was amused. + +"It shall be as you please," he said; "we shall soon know how it will +end, for we must begin our journey to-morrow." + +"It will need three weeks, will it not?" asked Nehushta. + +"Yes--it is at least one hundred and fifty farsangs. It would weary you +to travel more than seven or eight farsangs in a day's journey--indeed, +that is a long distance for any one." + +"We shall always be together, shall we not?" asked the princess. + +"I will ride beside your litter, my beloved," said Zoroaster. "But it +will be very tedious for you, and you will often be tired. The country +is very wild in some parts, and we must trust to what we can take with +us for our comfort. Do not spare the mules, therefore, but take +everything you need." + +"Besides, we may not return," said Nehushta thoughtfully. + +Her companion was silent. "Do you think we shall ever come back?" she +asked presently. + +"I have dreamed of coming back," answered Zoroaster; "but I fear it is +to be even as you say." + +"Why say you that you fear it! Is it not better to live at the court +than here in this distant fortress, so shut off from the world that we +might almost as well be among the Scythians? Oh, I long for the palace +at Shushan! I am sure it will seem tenfold more beautiful now than it +did when I was a child." + +Zoroaster sighed. In his heart he knew there was to be no returning to +Media, and yet he had dreamed of marrying the princess and being made +governor of the province, and bringing his wife home to this beautiful +land to live out a long life of quiet happiness. But he knew it was not +to be; and though he tried hard to shake off the impression, he felt in +his inmost self that the words of the dying prophet foretold truly what +would happen to him. Only he hoped that there was an escape, and the +passion in his heart scorned the idea that in loving Nehushta he was +being led astray, or made to abandon the right path. + +The cold breeze blew steadily from the east, with a chill dampness in +it, sighing wearily among the trees. The summer was not yet wholly come, +and the after-breath of the winter still made itself felt from time to +time. The lovers parted, taking leave of the spot they loved so +well,--Zoroaster with a heavy foreboding of evil to come; Nehushta with +a great longing for the morrow, a mad desire to be on the way to +Shushan. + +Something in her way of speaking had given Zoroaster a sense of pain. +Her interest in the court and in the Great King, the strange capricious +hatred that seemed already forming in her breast against Atossa, the +evident desire she betrayed to take part in the brilliant life of the +capital,--indeed, her whole manner troubled him. It seemed so +unaccountable that she should be angry with him for his conduct at the +burial of the prophet, that he almost thought she had wished to take +advantage of a trifle for the sake of annoying him. He felt that doubt +which never comes so suddenly and wounds so keenly as when a man feels +the most certain of his position and of himself. + +He retired to his apartment in the palace with a burden of unhappiness +and evil presentiment that was new to him. It was very different from +the sincere sorrow he had felt and still suffered for the death of his +master and friend. That misfortune had not affected him as regarded +Nehushta. But now he had been separated from her during all the week by +the exigencies of the funeral ceremonies, and he had looked forward to +meeting her this evening as to a great joy after so much mourning, and +he was disappointed. She had affected to be offended with him, yet his +reason told him that he had acted naturally and rightly. Could he, the +bearer of the prophet's body, the captain of all the fortress, the man +of all others upon whom all eyes were turned, have exchanged love +glances or spoken soft words to the princess by his side at such a time? +It was absurd; she had no right to expect such a thing. + +However, he reflected that a new kind of life was to begin on the +morrow. For the best part of a month he would ride by her litter all day +long, and sit at her table at noonday and evening; he would watch over +her and take care of her, and see that her slightest wants were +instantly supplied; a thousand incidents would occur whereby he might +re-establish all the loving intimacy which seemed to have been so +unexpectedly shaken. And so, consoling himself with the hopes of the +future, and striving to overlook the present, he fell asleep, wearied +with the fatigues and sorrows of the day. + +But Nehushta lay all night upon her silken cushions, and watched the +flickering little lamp and the strange shadows it cast among the rich, +painted carvings of the ceiling. She slept little, but waking she +dreamed of the gold and the glitter of Shushan, of the magnificence of +the young king, and of the brilliant hard-featured beauty of Atossa, +whom she already hated or had determined to hate. The king interested +her most. She tried to recall his features and manner as he had appeared +when he tarried one night in the fortress a year previous. She +remembered a black-browed man in the prime of youth, with heavy brows +and an eagle nose; his young beard growing black and square about his +strong dark features, which would have seemed coarse saving for his +bright eyes that looked every man fearlessly in the face. A short man he +seemed in her memory, square built and powerful as a bloodhound, of +quick and decisive speech, expecting to be understood before he had half +spoken his thoughts; a man, she fancied, who must be untiring and +violent of temper, inflexible and brave in the execution of his +purpose--a strong contrast outwardly to her tall and graceful lover. +Zoroaster's faultless beauty was a constant delight to her eyes; his +soft deep voice sounded voluptuously passionate when he spoke to +herself, coldly and deliberately dominating when addressing others. He +moved with perfect certainty and assurance of purpose, his whole +presence breathed a high and superior wisdom and untainted nobility of +mind; he looked and acted like a god, like a being from another world, +not subject to mortal passions, nor to the temptations of common +mankind. She gloried in his perfection and in the secret knowledge that +to her alone he was a man simply and utterly dominated by love. As she +thought of him she grew proud and happy in the idea that such a man +should be her lover, and she reproached herself for doubting his +devotion that evening. After all, she had only complained that he had +neglected her--as he had really done, she added. She wondered in her +heart whether other men would have done the same in his place, or +whether this power of coldly disregarding her presence when he was +occupied with a serious matter were not due to a real and unconquerable +hardness in his nature. + +But as she lay there, her dark hair streaming over the yellow silk of +her pillows, her mind strayed from her lover to the life before her, and +the picture rose quickly in her imagination. She even took up the silver +mirror that lay beside her and looked at herself by the dim light of the +little lamp, and said to herself that she was beautiful, and that many +in Shushan would do her homage. She was glad that Atossa was so fair--it +would be a better contrast for her own dark southern beauty. + +Towards morning she slept, and dreamed of the grand figure of the +prophet, as she had seen him stretched upon his death-bed in the upper +chamber of the tower; she thought the dead man stirred and opened his +glazed eyes and pointed at her with his bony fingers, and spoke words of +anger and reproach. Then she woke with a short cry in her terror, and +the light of the dawn shone gray and clear through the doorway of the +corridor at the end of her room, where two of her handmaids slept across +the threshold, their white cloaks drawn over their heads against the +chill air of the night. + +Then the trumpets rang out in long-drawn clanging rhythm through the +morning air, and Nehushta heard the trampling of the beasts that were +being got ready for the journey, in the court without, and the cries of +the drivers and of the serving-men. She rose quickly from her bed--a +lithe white-clad figure in the dawn light--and pushed the heavy curtains +aside and looked out through the lattice; and she forgot her evil dream, +for her heart leaped again at the thought that she should no more be +shut up in Ecbatana, and that before another month was over she would be +in Shushan, in the palace, where she longed to be. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +The sun was almost setting, and his light was already turning to a +golden glow upon the vast plain of Shushan, as the caravan of travellers +halted for the last time. A few stades away the two mounds rose above +the royal city like two tables out of the flat country; the lower one +surmounted by the marble columns, the towers and turrets and gleaming +architraves of the palace; and in front, upon the right, the higher +elevation crowned by the dark and massive citadel of frowning walls and +battlements. The place chosen for the halt was the point where the road +from Nineveh, into which they had turned when about half-way from +Ecbatana, joined the broad road from Babylon, near to the bridge. For +some time they had followed the quiet stream of the Choaspes, and, +looking across it, had watched how the fortress seemed to come forward +and overhang the river, while the mound of the palace fell away to the +background. The city itself was, of course, completely hidden from their +view by the steep mounds, that looked as inaccessible as though they had +been built of solid masonry. + +Everything in the plain was green. Stade upon stade, and farsang upon +farsang, the ploughed furrows stretched away to the west and south; the +corn standing already green and high, and the fig-trees putting out +their broad green leaves. Here and there in the level expanse of +country the rays of the declining sun were reflected from the +whitewashed walls of a farmhouse; or in the farther distance lingered +upon the burnt-brick buildings of an outlying village. Beyond the river, +in the broad meadow beneath the turret-clad mound, half-naked, sunburnt +boys drove home the small humped cows to the milking, scaring away, as +they went, the troops of white horses that pastured in the same field, +clapping their hands and crying out at the little black foals that ran +and frisked by the side of their white dams. Here and there a +broad-shouldered, bearded fisherman angled in the stream, or flung out a +brown casting-net upon the placid waters, drawing it slowly back to the +bank, with eyes intent upon the moving cords. + +The caravan halted on the turf by the side of the dusty road; the +mounted guards, threescore stalwart riders from the Median plains, fell +back to make room for the travellers, and, springing to the ground, set +about picketing and watering their horses--their brazen armour and +scarlet and blue mantles blazing in a mass of rich colour in the evening +sun; while their wild white horses, untired by the day's march, plunged +and snorted, and shook themselves, and bit each other in play by mane +and tail, in the delight of being at least half free. + +Zoroaster himself--his purple mantle somewhat whitened with the dust, +and his fair face a little browned by the three weeks' journey--threw +the bridle of his horse to a soldier and ran quickly forward. A +magnificent litter, closed all around with a gilded lattice, and roofed +with three awnings of white linen, one upon the other, as a protection +against the sun, was being carefully unyoked from the mules that had +borne it. Tall Ethiopian slaves lifted it, and carried it to the +greenest spot of the turf by the softly flowing river; and Zoroaster +himself pushed back the lattice and spread a rich carpet before it. +Nehushta took his proffered hand and stepped lightly out, and stood +beside him in the red light. She was veiled, and her purple cloak fell +in long folds to her feet, and she stood motionless, with her back to +the city, looking towards the setting sun. + +"Why do we stop here?" she asked suddenly. + +"The Great King, may he live for ever, is said not to be in the city," +answered Zoroaster, "and it would ill become us to enter the palace +before him." He spoke aloud in the Median language that the slaves might +hear him; then he added in Hebrew and in a lower voice, "It would be +scarcely wise, or safe, to enter Shushan when the king is away. Who can +tell what may have happened there in these days? Babylon has rebelled; +the empire is far from settled. All Persia may be on the very point of a +revolt." + +"A fitting time indeed for our journey--for me and my women to be +travelling abroad with a score of horsemen for a guard! Why did you +bring me here? How long are we to remain encamped by the roadside, +waiting the pleasure of the populace to let us in, or the convenience of +this new king to return?" + +Nehushta turned upon her companion as she spoke, and there was a ring of +mingled scorn and disappointment in her voice. Her dark eyes stated +coldly at Zoroaster from the straight opening between her veils, and +before he could answer, she turned her back upon him and moved a few +steps away, gazing out at the setting sun across the fertile meadows. +The warrior stood still, and a dark flush overspread his face. Then he +turned pale, but whatever were the words that rose to his lips, he did +not speak them, but occupied himself with superintending the pitching of +the women's tents. The other litters were brought, and set down with +their occupants; the long file of camels, some laden with baggage and +provisions, some bearing female slaves, kneeled down to be unloaded upon +the grass, anxiously craning their long necks the while in the direction +of the stream; the tent-pitchers set to work; and at the last another +score of horsemen, who had formed the rear-guard of the caravan, +cantered up and joined their companions who had already dismounted. With +the rapid skill of long practice, all did their share, and in a few +minutes all the immense paraphernalia of a Persian encampment were +spread out and disposed in place for the night. Contrary to the usual +habit Zoroaster had not permitted the tent-pitchers and other slaves to +pass on while he and his charges made their noonday halt; for he feared +some uprising in the neighbourhood of the city in the absence of the +king, and he wished to keep his whole company together as a measure of +safety, even at the sacrifice of Nehushta's convenience. + +She herself still stood apart, and haughtily turned away from her +serving-women, giving them no answer when they saluted her and offered +her cushions and cooling drinks. She drew her cloak more closely about +her and tightened her veil upon her face. She was weary, disappointed, +almost angry. For days she had dreamed of the reception she would have +at the palace, of the king and of the court; of the luxury of rest after +her long journey, and of the thousand diversions and excitements she +would find in revisiting the scenes of her childhood. It was no small +disappointment to find herself condemned to another night in camp; and +her first impulse was to blame Zoroaster. + +In spite of her love for him, her strong and dominating temper often +chafed at his calmness, and resented the resolute superiority of his +intelligence; and then, being conscious that her own dignity suffered by +the storms of her temper, she was even more angry than before, with +herself, with him, with every one. But Zoroaster was as impassive as +marble, saving that now and then his brow flushed, and paled quickly; +and his words, if he spoke at all, had a chilled icy ring in them. +Sooner or later, Nehushta's passionate temper cooled, and she found him +the same as ever, devoted and gentle and loving; then her heart went out +to him anew, and all her being was filled with the love of him, even to +overflowing. + +She had been disappointed now, and would speak to no one. She moved +still farther from the crowd of slaves and tent-pitchers, followed at a +respectful distance by her handmaidens, who whispered together as they +went; and again she stood still and looked westward. + +As the sun neared the horizon, his low rays caught upon a raising cloud +of dust, small and distant as the smoke of a fire, in the plain towards +Babylon, but whirling quickly upwards. Nehushta's eye rested on the +far-off point, and she raised one hand to shade her sight. She +remembered how, when she was a girl, she had watched the line of that +very road from the palace above, and had seen a cloud of dust arise out +of a mere speck, as a body of horsemen galloped into view. There was no +mistaking what it was. A troop of horse were coming--perhaps the king +himself. Instinctively she turned and looked for Zoroaster, and started, +as she saw him standing at a little distance from her, with folded arms, +his eyes bent on the horizon. She moved towards him in sudden +excitement. + +"What is it?" she asked in low tones. + +"It is the Great King--may he live for ever!" answered Zoroaster. "None +but he would ride so fast along the royal road." + +For a moment they stood side by side, watching the dust cloud; and as +they stood, Nehushta's hand stole out from her cloak and touched the +warrior's arm, softly, with a trembling of the fingers, as though she +timidly sought something she would not ask for. Zoroaster turned his +head and saw that her eyes were moistened with tears; he understood, but +he would not take her hand, for there were many slaves near, besides +Nehushta's kinsfolk, and he would not have had them see; but he looked +on her tenderly, and on a sudden, his eyes grew less sad, and the light +returned in them. + +"My beloved!" he said softly. + +"I was wrong, Zoroaster--forgive me," she murmured. She suffered him to +lead her to her tent, which was already pitched; and he left her there, +sitting at the door and watching his movements, while he called together +his men and drew them up in a compact rank by the roadside, to be ready +to salute the king. + +Nearer and nearer came the cloud; and the red glow turned to purple and +the sun went out of sight; and still it came nearer, that whirling +cloud-canopy of fine powdered dust, rising to right and left of the road +in vast round puffs, and hanging overhead like the smoke from some great +moving fire. Then, from beneath it, there seemed to come a distant roar +like thunder, rising and falling on the silent air, but rising ever +louder; and a dark gleam of polished bronze, with something more purple +than the purple sunset, took shape slowly; then with the low roar of +sound, came now and then, and then more often, the clank of harness and +arms; till at last, the whole stamping, rushing, clanging crowd of +galloping horsemen seemed to emerge suddenly from the dust in a +thundering charge, the very earth shaking beneath their weight, and the +whole air vibrating to the tremendous shock of pounding hoofs and the +din of clashing brass. + +A few lengths before the serried ranks rode one man alone,--a square +figure, wrapped in a cloak of deeper and richer purple than any worn by +the ordinary nobles, sitting like a rock upon a great white horse. As he +came up, Zoroaster and his fourscore men threw up their hands. + +"Hail, king of kings! Hail, and live for ever!" they cried, and as one +man, they prostrated themselves upon their faces on the grass by the +roadside. + +Darius drew rein suddenly, bringing his steed from his full gallop to +his haunches in an instant. After him the rushing riders threw up their +right hands as a signal to those behind; and with a deafening +concussion, as of the ocean breaking at once against a wall of rock, +those matchless Persian horsemen halted in a body in the space of a few +yards, their steeds plunging wildly, rearing to their height and +struggling on the curb; but helpless to advance against the strong hands +that held them. The blossom and flower of all the Persian nobles rode +there,--their purple mantles flying with the wild motion, their bronze +cuirasses black in the gathering twilight, their bearded faces dark and +square beneath their gilded helmets. + +"I am Darius, the king of kings, on whom ye call," cried the king, whose +steed now stood like a marble statue, immovable in the middle of the +road. "Rise, speak and fear nothing,--unless ye speak lies." + +Zoroaster rose to his feet, then bent low, and taking a few grains of +dust from the roadside, touched his mouth with his hand and let the dust +fall upon his forehead. + +"Hail, and live for ever! I am thy servant, Zoroaster, who was captain +over the fortress and treasury of Ecbatana. According to thy word I have +brought the kinsfolk of Jehoiakim, king of Judah,--chief of whom is +Nehushta, the princess. I heard that thou wast absent from Shushan, and +here I have waited for thy coming. I also sent thee messengers to +announce that Daniel, surnamed Belteshazzar, who was Satrap of Media +from the time of Cambyses, is dead; and I have buried him fittingly in a +new tomb in the garden of the palace of Ecbatana." + +Darius, quick and impulsive in every thought and action, sprang to the +ground as Zoroaster finished speaking, and coming to him, took both his +hands and kissed him on both cheeks. + +"What thou hast done is well done,--I know thee of old. Auramazda is +with thee. He is also with me. By his grace I have slain the rebels at +Babylon. They spoke lies, so I slew them. Show me Nehushta, the daughter +of the kings of Judah." + +"I am thy servant. The princess is at hand," answered Zoroaster; but as +he spoke, he turned pale to the lips. + +By this time it had grown dark, and the moon, just past the full, had +not yet risen from behind the mound of the fortress. The slaves brought +torches of mingled wax and fir-gum, and their black figures shone +strangely in the red glare, as they pressed toward the door of +Nehushta's tent, lighting the way for the king. + +Darius strode quickly forward, his gilded harness clanging as he walked, +the strong flaring light illuminating his bold dark features. Under the +striped curtain, drawn up to form the entrance of the tent, stood +Nehushta. She had thrown aside her veil and her women had quickly placed +upon her head the linen tiara, where a single jewel shown like a star in +the white folds. Her thick black hair fell in masses upon her shoulders, +and her mantle was thrown back, displaying the grand proportions of her +figure, clad in tunic and close-fitting belt. As the king came near, +she kneeled and prostrated herself before him, touching her forehead to +the ground, and waiting for him to speak. + +He stood still a full minute and his eyes flashed fire, as he looked on +her crouching figure, in very pride that so queenly a woman should be +forced to kneel at his feet--but more in sudden admiration of her +marvellous beauty. Then he bent down, and took her hand and raised her +to her feet. She sprang up, and faced him with glowing cheeks and +flashing eyes; and as she stood she was nearly as tall as he. + +"I would not that a princess of thy line kneeled before me," said he; +and in his voice there was a strange touch of softness. "Wilt thou let +me rest here awhile before I go up to Shushan? I am weary of riding and +thirsty from the road." + +"Hail, king of the world! I am thy servant. Rest thee and refresh thee +here," answered Nehushta, drawing back into the tent. The king beckoned +to Zoroaster to follow him and went in. + +Darius sat upon the carved folding-chair that stood in the midst of the +tent by the main pole, and eagerly drained the huge golden goblet of +Shiraz wine which Zoroaster poured for him. Then he took off his +headpiece, and his thick, coarse hair fell in a mass of dark curls to +his neck, like the mane of a black lion. He breathed a long breath as of +relief and enjoyment of well-earned repose, and leaned back in his +chair, letting his eyes rest on Nehushta's face as she stood before him +looking down to the ground. Zoroaster remained on one side, holding the +replenished goblet in his hand, in case the king's thirst were not +assuaged by a single draught. + +"Thou art fair, daughter of Jerusalem," said the king presently. "I +remember thy beauty, for I saw thee in Ecbatana. I sent for thee and thy +kinsfolk that I might do thee honour; and I will also fulfil my words. I +will take thee to be my wife." + +Darius spoke quietly, in his usual tone of absolute determination. But +if the concentrated fury of a thousand storms had suddenly broken loose +in the very midst of the tent, the effect could not have been more +terrible on his hearers. + +Nehushta's face flushed suddenly, and for a moment she trembled in every +joint; then she fell on her knees, prostrate before the king's feet, all +the wealth of her splendid hair falling loose about her. Darius sat +still, as though watching the result of his speech. He might have sat +long, but in an instant, Zoroaster sprang between the king and the +kneeling woman; and the golden goblet he had held rolled across the +thick carpet on the ground, while the rich red wine ran in a slow stream +towards the curtains of the door. His face was livid and his eyes like +coals of blue fire, his fair locks and his long golden beard caught the +torchlight and shone about him like a glory, as he stood up to his grand +height and faced the king. Darius never quailed nor moved; his look met +Zoroaster's with fearless boldness. Zoroaster spoke first, in low +accents of concentrated fury: + +"Nehushta the princess is my betrothed bride. Though thou wert king of +the stars as well as king of the earth, thou shalt not have her for thy +wife." + +Darius smiled, not scornfully, an honest smile of amusement, as he +stared at the wrathful figure of the northern man before him. + +"I am the king of kings," he answered. "I will marry this princess of +Judah to-morrow, and thee I will crucify upon the highest turret of +Shushan, because thou speakest lies when thou sayest I shall not marry +her." + +"Fool! tempt not thy God! Threaten not him who is stronger than thou, +lest he slay thee with his hands where thou sittest." Zoroaster's voice +sounded low and distinct as the knell of relentless fate, and his hand +went out towards the king's throat. + +Until this moment, Darius had sat in his indifferent attitude, smiling +carelessly, though never taking his eye from his adversary. Brave as the +bravest, he scorned to move until he was attacked, and he would have +despised the thought of calling to his guards. But when Zoroaster's hand +went out to seize him, he was ready. With a spring like a tiger, he flew +at the strong man's throat, and sought to drag him down, striving to +fasten his grip about the collar of his cuirass, but Zoroaster slipped +his hand quickly under his adversary's, his sleeve went back and his +long white arm ran like a fetter of steel about the king's neck, while +his other hand gripped him by the middle; so they held each other like +wrestlers, one arm above the shoulder and one below, and strove with all +their might. + +The king was short, but in his thick-set broad shoulders and knotted +arms there lurked the strength of a bull and the quickness of a tiger. +Zoroaster had the advantage, for his right arm was round Darius's neck, +but while one might count a score, neither moved a hairbreadth, and the +blue veins stood out like cords on the tall man's arm. The fiery might +of the southern prince was matched against the stately strength of the +fair northerner, whose face grew as white as death, while the king's +brow was purple with the agony of effort. They both breathed hard +between their clenched teeth, but neither uttered a word. + +Nehushta had leaped to her feet in terror at the first sign of the +coming strife, but she did not cry out, nor call in the slaves or +guards. She stood, holding the tent-pole with one hand, and gathering +her mantle to her breast with the other, gazing in absolute fascination +at the fearful life and death struggle, at the unspeakable and +tremendous strength so silently exerted by the two men before her. + +Suddenly they moved and swayed. Darius had attempted to trip Zoroaster +with one foot, but slipping on the carpet wet with wine, had been bent +nearly double to the ground; then by a violent effort, he regained his +footing. But the great exertion had weakened his strength. Nehushta +thought a smile nickered on Zoroaster's pale face and his flashing dark +blue eyes met hers for a moment, and then the end began. Slowly, and by +imperceptible degrees, Zoroaster forced the king down before him, +doubling him backwards with irresistible strength, till it seemed as +though bone and sinew and muscle must be broken and torn asunder in the +desperate resistance. Then, at last, when his head almost touched the +ground, Darius groaned and his limbs relaxed. Instantly Zoroaster threw +him on his back and kneeled with his whole weight upon his chest,--the +gilded scales of the corselet cracking beneath the burden, and he held +the king's hands down on either side, pinioned to the floor. Darius +struggled desperately twice and then lay quite still. Zoroaster gazed +down upon him with blazing eyes. + +"Thou who wouldst crucify me upon Shushan," he said through his teeth. +"I will slay thee here even as thou didst slay Smerdis. Hast thou +anything to say? Speak quickly, for thy hour is come." + +Even in the extremity of his agony, vanquished and at the point of +death, Darius was brave, as brave men are, to the very last. He would +indeed have called for help now, but there was no breath in him. He +still gazed fearlessly into the eyes of his terrible conqueror. His +voice came in a hoarse whisper. + +"I fear not death. Slay on if thou wilt--thou--hast--conquered." + +Nehushta had come near. She trembled now that the fight was over, and +looked anxiously to the heavy curtains of the tent-door. + +"Tell him," she whispered to Zoroaster, "that you will spare him if he +will do no harm to you, nor to me." + +"Spare him!" echoed Zoroaster scornfully. "He is almost dead now--why +should I spare him?" + +"For my sake, beloved," answered Nehushta, with a sudden and passionate +gesture of entreaty. "He is the king--he speaks truth; if he says he +will not harm you, trust him." + +"If I slay thee not, swear thou wilt not harm me nor Nehushta," said +Zoroaster, removing one knee from the chest of his adversary. + +"By the name of Auramazda," gasped Darius, "I will not harm thee nor +her." + +"It is well," said Zoroaster. "I will let thee go. And as for taking her +to be thy wife, thou mayest ask her if she will wed thee," he added. He +rose and helped the king to his feet. Darius shook himself and breathed +hard for a few minutes. He felt his limbs as a man might do who had +fallen from his horse, and then he sat down upon the chair, and broke +into a loud laugh. + +Darius was well known to all Persia and Media before the events of the +last two months, and such was his reputation for abiding by his promise +that he was universally trusted by those about him. Zoroaster had known +him also, and he remembered his easy familiarity and love of jesting, so +that even when he held the king at such vantage that he might have +killed him by a little additional pressure of his weight, he felt not +the least hesitation in accepting his promise of safety. But remembering +what a stake had been played for in the desperate issue, he could not +join in the king's laugh. He stood silently apart, and looked at +Nehushta who leaned back against the tent-pole in violent agitation; her +hands wringing each other beneath her long sleeves, and her eyes turning +from the king to Zoroaster, and back again to the king, in evident +distress and fear. + +"Thou hast a mighty arm, Zoroaster," cried Darius, as his laughter +subsided, "and thou hadst well-nigh made an end of the Great King and of +Persia, Media, Babylon and Egypt in thy grip." + +"Let the king pardon his servant," answered Zoroaster, "if his knee was +heavy and his hand strong. Had not the king slipped upon the spilt wine, +his servant would have been thrown down." + +"And thou wouldst have been crucified at dawn," added Darius, laughing +again. "It is well for thee that I am Darius and not Cambyses, or thou +wouldst not be standing there before me while my guards are gossiping +idly in the road. Give me a cup of wine since thou hast spared my life!" +Again the king laughed as though his sides would break. Zoroaster +hastily filled another goblet and offered it, kneeling before the +monarch. Darius paused before he took the cup, and looked at the +kneeling warrior's pale proud face. Then he spoke and his voice dropped +to a less mirthful key, as he laid his hand on Zoroaster's shoulder. + +"I love thee, prince," he said, "because thou art stronger than I; and +as brave and more merciful. Therefore shalt thou stand ever at my right +hand and I will trust thee with my life in thy hand. And in pledge +hereunto I put my own chain of gold about thy neck, and I drink this cup +to thee; and whosoever shall harm a hair of thine head shall perish in +torments." + +The king drank; and Zoroaster, overcome with genuine admiration of the +great soul that could so easily forgive so dire an offence, bent and +embraced the king's knees in token of adherence, and as a seal of that +friendship which was never to be broken until death parted the two men +asunder. + +Then they arose, and at Zoroaster's order, the princess's litter was +brought, and leaving the encampment to follow after them, they went up +to the palace. Nehushta was borne between the litters of her women and +her slaves on foot, but Zoroaster mounted his horse and rode slowly and +in silence by the right side of the Great King. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Athwart the gleaming colonnades of the eastern balcony, the early +morning sun shone brightly, and all the shadows of the white marble +cornices and capitals and jutting frieze work were blue with the +reflection of the cloudless sky. The swallows now and then shot in under +the overhanging roof and flew up and down the covered terrace; then with +a quick rush, they sped forth again into the dancing sunshine with clean +sudden sweep, as when a sharp sword is whirled in the air. Far below, +the soft mist of the dawn still lay upon the city, whence the distant +cries of the water-carriers and fruitsellers came echoing up from the +waking streets, the call of the women to one another from the housetops, +and now and then the neighing of a horse far out upon the meadows; while +the fleet swallows circled over all in swift wide curves, with a silvery +fresh stream of unceasing twittering music. + +Zoroaster paced the balcony alone. He was fully armed, with his helmet +upon his head; the crest of the winged wheels was replaced by the ensign +Darius had chosen for himself,--the half-figure of a likeness of the +king with long straight wings on either side, of wrought gold and very +fine workmanship. The long purple mantle hung to his heels and the royal +chain of gold was about his neck. As he walked the gilded leather of his +shoes was reflected in the polished marble pavement and he trod +cautiously, for the clean surface was slippery as the face of a mirror. +At one end of the terrace a stairway led down to the lower story of the +palace, and at the other end a high square door was masked by a heavy +curtain of rich purple and gold stuff, that fell in thick folds to the +glassy floor. Each time his walk brought him to this end Zoroaster +paused, as though expecting that some one should come out. But as it +generally happens when a man is waiting for something or some one that +the object or person appears unexpectedly, so it occurred that as he +turned back from the staircase towards the curtain, he saw that some one +had already advanced half the length of the balcony to meet him--and it +was not the person for whom he was looking. + +At first, he was dazzled for a moment, but his memory served him +instantly and he recognised the face and form of a woman he had known +and often seen before. She was not tall, but so perfectly proportioned +that it was impossible to wish that she were taller. Her close tunic of +palest blue, bordered with a gold embroidery at the neck, betrayed the +matchless symmetry of her figure, the unspeakable grace of development +of a woman in the fullest bloom of beauty. From her knees to her feet, +her under tunic showed the purple and white bands that none but the king +might wear, and which even for the queen was an undue assumption of the +royal insignia. But Zoroaster did not look at her dress, nor at her +mantle of royal sea-purple, nor at the marvellous white hands that held +together a written scroll. His eyes rested on her face, and he stood +still where he was. + +He knew those straight and perfect features, not large nor heavy, but of +such rare mould and faultless type as man has not seen since, neither +will see. The perfect curve of the fresh mouth; the white forward chin +with its sunk depression in the midst, the deep-set, blue eyes and the +straight pencilled brows; the broad smooth forehead and the tiny ear +half hidden in the glory of sun-golden hair; the milk-white skin just +tinged with the faint rose-light that never changed or reddened in heat +or cold, in anger or in joy--he knew them all; the features of royal +Cyrus made soft and womanly in substance, but unchanging still and +faultlessly cold in his great daughter Atossa, the child of kings, the +wife of kings, the mother of kings. + +The heavy curtains had fallen together behind her, and she came forward +alone. She had seen Zoroaster before he had seen her, and she moved on +without showing any surprise, the heels of her small golden shoes +clicking sharply on the polished floor. Zoroaster remained standing for +a moment, and then, removing his helmet in salutation, went to one side +of the head of the staircase and waited respectfully for the queen to +pass. As she came on, passing alternately through the shadow cast by the +columns, and the sunlight that blazed between, her advancing figure +flashed with a new illumination at every step. She made as though she +were going straight on, but as she passed over the threshold to the +staircase, she suddenly stopped and turned half round, and looked +straight at Zoroaster. + +"Thou art Zoroaster," she said in a smooth and musical voice, like the +ripple of a clear stream flowing through summer meadows. + +"I am Zoroaster, thy servant," he answered, bowing his head. He spoke +very coldly. + +"I remember thee well," said the queen, lingering by the head of the +staircase. "Thou art little changed, saving that thou art stronger, I +should think, and more of a soldier than formerly." + +Zoroaster stood turning his polished helmet in his hands, but he +answered nothing; he cared little for the queen's praises. But she, it +seemed, was desirous of pleasing him in proportion as he was less +anxious to be pleased, for she turned again and walked forward upon the +terrace. + +"Come into the sunlight--the morning air is cold," she said, "I would +speak with thee awhile." + +A carved chair stood in a corner of the balcony. Zoroaster moved it into +the sunshine, and Atossa sat down, smiling her thanks to him, while he +stood leaning against the balustrade,--a magnificent figure as the light +caught his gilded harness and gold neckchain, and played on his long +fair beard and nestled in the folds of his purple mantle. + +"Tell me--you came last night?" she asked, spreading her dainty hands in +the sunshine as though to warm them. She never feared the sun, for he +was friendly to her nativity and never seemed to scorch her fair skin +like that of meaner women. + +"Thy servant came last night," answered the prince. + +"Bringing Nehushta and the other Hebrews?" added the queen. + +"Even so." + +"Tell me something of this Nehushta," said Atossa. She had dropped into +a more familiar form of speech. But Zoroaster was careful of his words +and never allowed his language to relapse from the distant form of +address of a subject to his sovereign. + +"The queen knoweth her. She was here as a young child a few years +since," he replied. He chose to let Atossa ask questions for all the +information she needed. + +"It is so long ago," she said, with a little sigh. "Is she fair?" + +"Nay, she is dark, after the manner of the Hebrews." + +"And the Persians too," she interrupted. + +"She is very beautiful," continued Zoroaster. "She is very tall." Atossa +looked up quickly with a smile. She was not tall herself, with all her +Beauty. + +"You admire tall women?" + +"Yes," said Zoroaster calmly--well knowing what he said. He did not wish +to flatter the queen; and besides he knew her too well to do so if he +wished to please her. She was one of those women who are not accustomed +to doubt their own superiority over the rest of their sex. + +"Then you admire this Hebrew princess?" said she, and paused for an +answer. But her companion was as cold and calm as she. Seeing himself +directly pressed by a suspicion, he changed his tactics and flattered +Atossa for the sake of putting a stop to her questions. + +"Height is not of itself beauty," he answered with a courteous smile. +"There is a kind of beauty which no height can improve,--a perfection +which needs not to be set high for all men to acknowledge it." + +The queen simply took no notice of the compliment, but it had its +desired effect, for she changed the tone of her talk a little, speaking +more seriously. + +"Where is she? I will go and see her," she said. + +"She rested last night in the upper chambers in the southern part of the +palace. Thy servant will bid her come if it be thy desire." + +"Presently, presently," answered the queen. "It is yet early, and she +was doubtless weary of the journey." + +There was a pause. Zoroaster looked down at the beautiful queen as she +sat beside him, and wondered whether she had changed; and as he gazed, +he fell to comparing her beauty with Nehushta's, and his glance grew +more intent than he had meant it should be, so that Atossa looked up +suddenly and met his eyes resting on her face. + +"It is long since we have met, Zoroaster," she said quickly. "Tell me of +your life in that wild fortress. You have prospered in your profession +of arms--you wear the royal chain." She put up her hand and touched the +links as though to feel them. "Indeed it is very like the chain Darius +wore when he went to Babylon the other day." She paused a moment as +though trying to recall something; then continued: "Yes--now I think of +it, he had no chain when he came back. It is his--of course--why has he +given it to you?" Her tones had a tinge of uncertainty in the +question,--half imperious, as demanding an answer, half persuading, as +though not sure the answer would be given. Zoroaster remembered that +intonation of her sweet voice, and he smiled in his beard. + +"Indeed," he answered, "the Great King who liveth for ever, put this +chain about my neck with his own hands last night, when he halted by the +roadside, as a reward, I presume, for certain qualities he believeth his +servant Zoroaster to possess." + +"Qualities--what qualities?" + +"Nay, the queen cannot expect me to sing faithfully my own praises. +Nevertheless, I am ready to die for the Great King. He knoweth that I +am. May he live for ever!" + +"It may be that one of the qualities was the successful performance of +the extremely difficult task you have lately accomplished," said Atossa, +with a touch of scorn. + +"A task?" repeated Zoroaster. + +"Yes--have you not brought a handful of Hebrew women all the way from +Ecbatana to Shushan, through numberless dangers and difficulties, safe +and sound, and so carefully prudent of their comfort that they are not +even weary, nor have they once hungered or thirsted by the way, nor lost +the smallest box of perfume, nor the tiniest of their golden hair-pins? +Surely you have deserved to have a royal chain hung about your neck and +to be called the king's friend." + +"The reward was doubtless greater than my desert. It was no great feat +of arms that I had to perform; and yet, in these days a man may leave +Media under one king, and reach Shushan under another. The queen knoweth +better than any one what sudden changes may take place in the empire," +answered Zoroaster, looking calmly into her face as he stood; and she +who had been the wife of Cambyses and the wife of the murdered +Gomata-Smerdis, and who was now the wife of Darius, looked down and was +silent, turning over in her beautiful hands the sealed scroll she bore. + +The sun had risen higher while they talked, and his rays were growing +hot in the clear air. The mist had lifted from the city below, and all +the streets and open places were alive with noisy buyers and sellers, +whose loud talking and disputing came up in a continuous hum to the +palace on the hill, like the drone of a swarm of bees. The queen rose +from her seat. + +"It is too warm here," she said, and she once more moved toward the +stairway. Zoroaster followed her respectfully, still holding his helmet +in his hand. Atossa did not speak till she reached the threshold. Then, +as Zoroaster bowed low before her, she paused and looked at him with her +clear, deep-blue eyes. + +"You have grown very formal in four years," she said softly. "You used +to be more outspoken and less of a courtier. I am not changed--we must +be friends as we were formerly." + +Zoroaster hesitated a moment before he answered: + +"I am the Great King's man," he said slowly. "I am, therefore, also the +queen's servant." + +Atossa raised her delicate eyebrows a little and a shade of annoyance +passed for the first time over her perfect face, which gave her a look +of sternness. + +"I am the queen," she said coldly. "The king may take other wives, but I +am the queen. Take heed that you be indeed my servant." Then, as she +gathered her mantle about her and put one foot upon the stairs, she +touched his shoulder gently with the tips of her fingers and added with +a sudden smile, "And I will be your friend." So she passed down the +stairs out of sight, leaving Zoroaster alone. + +Slowly he paced the terrace again, reflecting profoundly upon his +situation. Indeed he had no small cause for anxiety; it was evident that +the queen suspected his love for Nehushta, and he was more than half +convinced that there were reasons why such an affection would inevitably +meet with her disapproval. In former days, before she was married to +Cambyses, and afterwards, before Zoroaster had been sent into Media, +Atossa had shown so marked a liking for him, that a man more acquainted +with the world, would have guessed that she loved him. He had not +suspected such a thing, but with a keen perception of character, he had +understood that beneath the beautiful features and the frank gentleness +of the young princess, there lurked a profound intelligence, an +unbending ambition and a cold selfishness without equal; he had +mistrusted her, but he had humoured her caprices and been in truth a +good friend to her, without in the least wishing to accept her +friendship for himself in return. He was but a young captain of five +hundred then, although he was the favourite of the court; but his strong +arm was dreaded as well as the cutting force of his replies when +questioned, and no word of the court gossip had therefore reached his +ears concerning Atossa's admiration for him. It was, moreover, so +evident that he cared nothing for her beyond the most unaffected +friendliness, that her disappointment in not moving his heart was a +constant source of satisfaction to her enemies. There had reigned in +those days a great and unbridled license in the court, and the fact of +the daughter of Cyrus loving and being loved by the handsomest of the +king's guards, would not of itself have attracted overmuch notice. But +the evident innocence of Zoroaster in the whole affair, and the masterly +fashion in which Atossa concealed her anger, if she felt any, caused the +matter to be completely forgotten as soon as Zoroaster left Shushan, and +events had, since then, succeeded each other too rapidly to give the +courtiers leisure for gossiping about old scandals. The isolation in +which Gomata had lived during the seven months while he maintained the +popular impression that he was not Gomata-Smerdis, but Smerdis the +brother of Cambyses, had broken up the court; and the strong, manly +character of Darius had checked the license of the nobles suddenly, as a +horse-breaker brings up an unbroken colt by flinging the noose about his +neck. The king permitted that the ancient custom of marrying as many as +four wives should be maintained, and he himself soon set an example by +so doing; but he had determined that the whole corrupt fabric of court +life should be shattered at one blow; and with his usual intrepid +disregard of consequences and his iron determination to maintain his +opinions, he had suffered no contradiction of his will. He had married +Atossa,--in the first place, because she was the most beautiful woman in +Persia; and secondly, because he comprehended her great intelligence +and capacity for affairs, and believed himself able to make use of her +at his pleasure. As for Atossa herself, she had not hesitated a moment +in concurring in the marriage,--she had ruled her former husbands, and +she would rule Darius in like manner, she thought, to her own complete +aggrandisement and in the face of all rivals. As yet, the king had taken +no second wife, although he looked with growing admiration upon the +maiden Artystone, who was then but fifteen years of age, the youngest +daughter of Cyrus and own sister to Atossa. + +All this Zoroaster knew, and he recognised, also from the meeting he had +just had with the queen, that she was desirous of maintaining her +friendship with himself. But since the violent scene of the previous +night, he had determined to be the king's man in truest loyalty, and he +feared lest Atossa's plans might, before long, cross her husband's. +Therefore he accepted her offer of friendship coldly, and treated her +with the most formal courtesy. On the other hand, he understood well +enough that if she resented his manner of acting towards her, and +ascertained that he really loved Nehushta, it would be in her power to +produce difficulties and complications which he would have every cause +for fearing. She would certainly discover the king's admiration for +Nehushta. Darius was a man almost incapable of concealment; with whom to +think was to act instantly and without hesitation. He generally acted +rightly, for his instincts were noble and kingly, and his heart as +honest and open as the very light of day. He said what he thought and +instantly fulfilled his words. He hated a lie as poison, and the only +untruth he had ever been guilty of was told when, in order to gain +access to the dwelling of the false Smerdis, he had declared to the +guards that he brought news of importance from his father. He had +justified this falsehood by the most elaborate and logical apology to +his companions, the six princes, and had explained that he only lied for +the purpose of saving Persia; and when the lot fell to himself to assume +the royal authority, he fulfilled most amply every promise he had given +of freeing the country from tyranny, religious despotism and, generally, +from what he termed "lies." As for the killing of Gomata-Smerdis, it was +an act of public justice, approved by all sensible persons as soon as it +was known by what frauds that impostor had seized the kingdom. + +With regard to Atossa, Darius had abstained from asking her questions +about her seven months of marriage with the usurper. She must have known +well enough who the man was, but Darius understood her character well +enough to know that she would marry whomsoever she saw in the chief +place, and that her counsel and courage would be of inestimable +advantage to a ruler. She herself never mentioned the past events to the +king, knowing his hatred of lies on the one hand, and that on the other, +the plain truth would redound to her discredit. He had given her to +understand as much from the first, telling her that he took her for what +she was, and not for what she had been. Her mind was at rest about the +past, and as for the future, she promised herself her full share in her +husband's success, should he succeed, and unbounded liberty in the +choice of his successor, should he fail. + +But all these considerations did not tend to clear Zoroaster's vision in +regard to his own future. He saw himself already placed in a position of +extreme difficulty between Nehushta and the king. On the other hand, he +dreaded lest he should before long fall into disgrace with the king on +account of Atossa's treatment of himself, or incur Atossa's displeasure +through the great favour he received from Darius. He knew the queen to +be an ambitious woman, capable of the wildest conceptions, and possessed +of the utmost skill for their execution. + +He longed to see Nehushta and talk with her at once,--to tell her many +things and to warn her of many possibilities; above all, he desired to +discuss with her the scene of the previous night and the strangely +sudden determination the king had expressed to make her his wife. + +But he could not leave his post. His orders had been to await the king +in the morning upon the eastern terrace; and there he must abide until +it pleased Darius to come forth; and he knew Nehushta would not venture +down into that part of the palace. He wondered that the king did not +come, and he chafed at the delay as he saw the sun rising higher and +higher, and the shadows deepening in the terrace. Weary of waiting he +sat down at last upon the chair where Atossa had rested, and folded his +hands over his sword-hilt,--resigning himself to the situation with the +philosophy of a trained soldier. + +Sitting thus alone, he fell to dreaming. As he gazed out at the bright +sky, he forgot his life and his love, and all things of the present; and +his mind wandered away among the thoughts most natural and most +congenial to his profound intellect. His attention became fixed in the +contemplation of a larger dimension of intelligences,--the veil of +darkness parted a little, and for a time he saw clearly in the light of +a Greater Universe. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +Atossa quitted the terrace where she had been talking with Zoroaster, in +the full intention of returning speedily, but as she descended the +steps, a plan formed itself in her mind, which she determined to put +into immediate execution. Instead, therefore, of pursuing her way into +the portico of the inner court, when she reached the foot of the +staircase, she turned into a narrow passage that led into a long +corridor, lighted only by occasional small openings in the wall. A +little door gave access to this covered way, and when she entered, she +closed it behind her, and tried to fasten it. But the bolt was rusty, +and in order to draw it, she laid down the scroll she carried, upon a +narrow stone seat by the side of the door; and then, with a strong +effort of both her small white hands, she succeeded in moving the lock +into its place. Then she turned quickly and hastened down the dusky +corridor. At the opposite end a small winding stair led upwards into +darkness. There were stains upon the lowest steps, just visible in the +half light. Atossa gathered up her mantle and her under tunic, and trod +daintily, with a look of repugnance on her beautiful face. The stains +were made by the blood of the false Smerdis, her last husband, slain in +that dark stairway by Darius, scarcely three months before. + +Cautiously the queen felt her way upward till she reached a landing, +where a narrow aperture admitted a little light. Higher up there were +windows, and she looked carefully to her dress, and brushed away a +little dust that her mantle had swept from the wall in passing; and once +or twice, she looked back at the dark staircase with an expression of +something akin to disgust. At last she reached a door which opened upon +a terrace, much like the one where she had left Zoroaster a few moments +before, saving that the floor was less polished, and that the spaces +between the columns were half filled with hanging plants and creepers. +Upon the pavement at one end were spread rich carpets, and half a dozen +enormous cushions of soft-coloured silk were thrown negligently one upon +the other. Three doors, hung with curtains, opened upon the +balcony,--and near to the middle one, two slave-girls, clad in white, +crouched upon their heels and talked in an undertone. + +Atossa stepped forward upon the marble, and the rustle of her dress and +the quick short sound of her heeled shoes, roused the two slave-girls to +spring to their feet. They did not know the queen, but they thought it +best to make a low obeisance, while their dark eyes endeavoured quickly +to scan the details of her dress, without exhibiting too much boldness. +Atossa beckoned to one of them to come to her, and smiled graciously as +the dark-skinned girl approached. + +"Is not thy mistress Nehushta?" she inquired; but the girl looked +stupidly at her, not comprehending her speech. "Nehushta," repeated the +queen, pronouncing the name very distinctly with a questioning +intonation, and pointing to the curtained door. The slave understood +the name and the question, and quick as thought, she disappeared within, +leaving Atossa in some hesitation. She had not intended to send for the +Hebrew princess, for she thought it would be a greater compliment to let +Nehushta find her waiting; but since the barbarian slave had gone to +call her mistress, there was nothing to be done but to abide the result. + +Nehushta, however, seemed in no hurry to answer the summons, for the +queen had ample time to examine the terrace, and to glance through the +hanging plants at the sunlit meadows and the flowing stream to +southward, before she heard steps behind the curtain, and saw it lifted +to allow the princess to pass. + +The dark maiden was now fully refreshed and rested from the journey, and +she came forward to greet her guest in her tunic, without her mantle, a +cloud of soft white Indian gauze loosely pinned upon her black hair and +half covering her neck. Her bodice-like belt was of scarlet and gold, +and from one side there hung a rich-hilted knife of Indian steel in a +jewelled sheath. The long sleeves of her tunic were drawn upon her arms +into hundreds of minute folds, and where the delicate stuff hung in an +oblong lappet over her hands, there was fine needlework and embroidery +of gold. She moved easily, with a languid grace of secure motion; and +she bent her head a little as Atossa came quickly to meet her. + +The queen's frank smile was on her face as she grasped both Nehushta's +hands in cordial welcome, and for a moment, the two women looked into +each other's eyes. Nehushta had made up her mind to hate Atossa from the +first, but she did not belong to that class of women who allow their +feelings to show themselves, and afterwards feel bound by the memory of +what they have shown. She, too, smiled most sweetly as she surveyed the +beautiful fair queen from beneath her long drooping lids, and examined +her appearance with all possible minuteness. She remembered her well +enough, but so warm was the welcome she received, that she almost +thought she had misjudged Atossa in calling her hard and cold. She drew +her guest to the cushions upon the carpets, and they sat down side by +side. + +"I have been talking about you already this morning, my princess," began +Atossa, speaking at once in familiar terms, as though she were +conversing with an intimate friend. Nehushta was very proud; she knew +herself to be of a race as royal as Atossa, though now almost extinct; +and in answering, she spoke in the same manner as the queen; so that the +latter was inwardly amused at the self-confidence of the Hebrew +princess. + +"Indeed?" said Nehushta, "there must be far more interesting things than +I in Shushan. I would have talked of you had I found any one to talk +with." + +The queen laughed a little. + +"As I was coming out this morning, I met an old friend of mine upon the +balcony before the king's apartment,--Zoroaster, the handsome captain. +We fell into conversation, how handsome he has grown since I saw him +last!" The queen watched Nehushta closely while affecting the greatest +unconcern, and she thought the shadows about the princess's eyes turned +a shade darker at the mention of the brilliant warrior. But Nehushta +answered calmly enough: + +"He took the most excellent care of us. I should like to see him to-day, +to thank him for all he did. I was tired last night and must have seemed +ungrateful." + +"What need is there of ever telling men we are grateful for what they do +for us?" returned the queen. "I should think there were not a noble in +the Great King's guard who would not give his right hand to take care of +you for a month, even if you never so much as noticed his existence." + +Nehushta laughed lightly at the compliment. + +"You honour me too much," she said, "but I suppose it is because most +women think as you do that men call us so ungrateful. I think you judge +from the standpoint of the queen, whereas I--" + +"Whereas you look at things from the position of the beautiful princess, +who is worshipped for herself alone, and not for the bounty and favour +she may, or may not, dispense to her subjects." + +"The queen is dispensing much bounty and favour to one of her subjects +at this very moment," answered Nehushta quietly, as though deprecating +further flattery. + +"How glad you must be to have left that dreadful fortress at last!" +cried the queen sympathetically. "My father used to go there every +summer. I hated the miserable place, with those tiresome mountains and +those endless gardens without the least variety in them. You must be +very glad to have come here!" + +"It is true," replied Nehushta, "I never ceased to dream of Shushan. I +love the great city, and the people, and the court. I thought sometimes +that I should have died of the weariness of Ecbatana. The winters were +unbearable!" + +"You must learn to love us, too," said Atossa, very sweetly. "The Great +King wishes well to your race, and will certainly do much for your +country. There is, moreover, a kinsman of yours, who is coming soon, +expressly to confer with the king concerning the further rebuilding of +the temple and the city of Jerusalem." + +"Zorobabel?" asked Nehushta, quickly. + +"Yes--that is his name, I believe. Do you say Zerub-Ebel, or Zerub-Abel? +I know nothing of your language." + +"His name is Zorob-Abel," answered Nehushta. "Oh, I wish he might +persuade the Great King to do something for my people! Your father would +have done so much if he had lived." + +"Doubtless the Great King will do all that is possible for establishing +the Hebrews and promoting their welfare," said the queen; but a distant +look in her eyes showed that her thoughts were no longer concentrated on +the subject. "Your friend Zoroaster," she added presently, "could be of +great service to you and your cause, if he wished." + +"I would that he were a Hebrew!" exclaimed Nehushta, with a little sigh, +which did not escape Atossa. + +"Is he not? I always thought that he had secretly embraced your faith. +With his love of study and with his ideas, it seemed so natural." + +"No," replied Nehushta, "he is not one of us, nor will he ever be. After +all, though, it is perhaps of little moment what one believes when one +is so just as he." + +"I have never been able to understand the importance of religion," said +the beautiful queen, spreading her white hand upon the purple of her +mantle, and contemplating its delicate outline tenderly. "For my own +part, I am fond of the sacrifices and the music and the chants. I love +to see the priests go up to the altar, two and two, in their white +robes,--and then to see how they struggle to hold up the bullock's head, +so that his eyes may see the sun,--and how the red blood gushes out like +a beautiful fountain. Have you ever seen a great sacrifice?" + +"Oh yes! I remember when I was quite a little girl, when Cambyses--I +mean--when the king came to the throne--it was magnificent!" Nehushta +was not used to hesitate in her speech, but as she recalled the day when +Cambyses was made king, it suddenly came over her that any reminiscences +of the past might be painful to the extraordinary woman by her side. But +Atossa showed no signs of being disturbed. On the contrary, she smiled +more sweetly than ever, though there was perhaps a slight affectation of +sadness in her voice as she answered: + +"Do not fear to hurt me by referring to those times, dear princess. I am +accustomed to speak of them well enough. Yes, indeed I remember that +great day, with the bright sun shining upon the procession, and the cars +with four horses that they dedicated to the sun, and the milk-white +horse that they slaughtered upon the steps of the temple. How I cried +for him, poor beast! It seemed so cruel to sacrifice a horse! Even a few +black slaves would have been a more natural offering, or a couple of +Scythians." + +"I remember," said Nehushta, somewhat relieved at the queen's tone. "Of +course I have now and then seen processions in Ecbatana, but Daniel +would not let me go to the temple. They say Ecbatana is very much +changed since the Great King has not gone there in summer. It is very +quiet--it is given over to horse-merchants and grain-sellers, and they +bring all the salted fish there from the Hyrcanian sea, so that some of +the streets smell horribly." + +Atossa laughed at the description, more out of courtesy than because it +amused her. + +"In my time," she answered, "the horse-market was in the meadow by the +road toward Zagros, and the fish-sellers were not allowed to come within +a farsang of the city. The royal nostrils were delicate. But everything +is changed--here, everywhere. We have had several--revolutions--religious +ones, I mean of course, and so many people have been killed that there is +a savour of death in the air. It is amazing how much trouble people will +give themselves about the question of sacrificing a horse to the sun, or +a calf to Auramazda, or an Ethiopian to Nabon or Ashtaroth! And these +Magians! They are really no more descendants of the priests in the Aryan +home than I am a Greek. Half of them are nearly black--they are Hindus +and speak Persian with an accent. They believe in a vast number of gods +of all sizes and descriptions, and they sing hymns, in which they say that +all these gods are the same. It is most confusing, and as the principal +part of their chief sacrifice consists in making themselves exceedingly +drunk with the detestable milkweed juice of which they are so fond, the +performance is disgusting. The Great King began by saying that if they +wished to sacrifice to their deities, they might do so, provided no one +could find them doing it; and if they wished to be drunk, they might be +drunk when and where they pleased; but that if they did the two together, +he would crucify every Magian in Persia. His argument was very amusing. +He said that a man who is drunk naturally speaks the truth, whereas a man +who sacrifices to false gods inevitably tells lies; wherefore a man who +sacrifices to false gods when he is drunk, runs the risk of telling lies +and speaking the truth at the same time, and is consequently a creature +revolting to logic, and must be immediately destroyed for the good of +the whole race of mankind." + +Nehushta had listened with varying attention to the queen's account of +the religious difficulties in the kingdom, and she laughed at the +Megoeric puzzle by which Darius justified the death of the Magians. But +in her heart she longed to see Zoroaster, and was weary of entertaining +her royal guest. By way of diversion she clapped her hands, and ordered +the slaves who came at her summons to bring sweetmeats and sherbet of +crushed fruit and snow. + +"Are you fond of hunting?" asked Atossa, delicately taking a little +piece of white fig-paste. + +"I have never been allowed to hunt," answered Nehushta. "Besides, it +must be very tiring." + +"I delight in it--the fig-paste is not so good as it used to be--there +is a new confectioner. Darius considered that the former one had +religious convictions involving the telling of lies--and this is the +result! We are fallen low indeed when we cannot eat a Magian's pastry! I +am passionately fond of hunting, but it is far from here to the desert +and the lions are scarce. Besides, the men who are fit for lion-hunting +are generally engaged in hunting their fellow-creatures." + +"Does the Great King hunt?" inquired Nehushta, languidly sipping her +sherbet from a green jade goblet, as she lay among her cushions, +supporting herself upon one elbow. + +"Whenever he has leisure. He will talk of nothing else to you--" + +"Surely," interrupted Nehushta, with an air of perfect innocence, "I +shall not be so far honoured as that the Great King should talk with +me?" + +Atossa raised her blue eyes and looked curiously at the dark princess. +She knew nothing of what had passed the night before, save that the king +had seen Nehushta for a few moments, but she knew his character well +enough to imagine that his frank and, as she thought, undignified manner +might have struck Nehushta even in that brief interview. The idea that +the princess was already deceiving her flashed across her mind. She +smiled more tenderly than ever, with a little added air of sadness that +gave her a wonderful charm. + +"Yes, the Great King is very gracious to the ladies of the court," she +said. "You are so beautiful and so different from them all that he will +certainly talk long with you after the banquet this evening--when he has +drunk much wine." The last words were added with a most special +sweetness of tone. + +Nehushta's face flushed a little as she drank more sherbet before she +answered. Then, letting her soft dark eyes rest, as though in +admiration, upon the queen's face, she spoke in a tone of gentle +deprecation: + + _"Shall a man prefer the darkness of night to the + glories of risen day? + Or shall a man turn from the lilies to pluck the + lowly flower of the field?"_ + +"You know our poets, too?" exclaimed Atossa, pleased with the graceful +tone of the compliment, but still looking at Nehushta with curious eyes. +There was a self-possession about the Hebrew princess that she did not +like; it was as though some one had suddenly taken a quality of her own +and made it theirs and displayed it before her eyes. There was indeed +this difference, that while Atossa's calm and undisturbed manner was +generally real, Nehushta's was assumed, and she herself felt that, at +any moment, it might desert her at her utmost need. + +"So you know our poets?" repeated the queen, and this time she laughed +lightly. "Indeed I fear the king will talk to you more than ever, for he +loves poetry, I daresay Zoroaster, too, has repeated many verses to you +in the winter evenings at Ecbatana. He used to know endless poetry when +he was a boy." + +This time Nehushta looked at the queen, and wondered how she, who could +not be more than two or three and twenty years old, although now married +to her third husband, could speak of having known Zoroaster as a boy, +seeing that he was past thirty years of age. She turned the question +upon the queen. + +"You must have seen Zoroaster very often before he left Shushan," she +said. "You know him so well." + +"Yes--every one knew him. He was the favourite of the court, with his +beauty and his courage and his strange affection for that old--for the +old Hebrew prophet. That is why Cambyses sent them both away," added she +with a light laugh. "They were far too good, both of them, to be endured +among the doings of those times." + +Atossa spoke readily enough of Cambyses. Nehushta wondered whether she +could be induced to speak of Smerdis. Her supposed ignorance of the true +nature of what had occurred in the last few months would permit her to +speak of the dead usurper with impunity. + +"I suppose there have been great changes lately in the manners of the +court--during this last year," suggested Nehushta carelessly. She pulled +a raisin from the dry stem, and tried to peel it with her delicate +fingers. + +"Indeed there have been changes," answered Atossa, calmly. "A great many +things that used to be tolerated will never be heard of now. On the +whole, the change has been rather in relation to religion than +otherwise. You will understand that in one year we have had three court +religions. Cambyses sacrificed to Ashtaroth--and I must say he made a +most appropriate choice of his tutelary goddess. Smerdis"--continued the +queen in measured tones and with the utmost calmness of manner--"Smerdis +devoted himself wholly to the worship of Indra, who appeared to be a +convenient association of all the most agreeable gods; and the Great +King now rules the earth by the grace of Auramazda. I, for my part, have +always inclined to the Hebrew conception of one God--perhaps that is +much the same as Auramazda, the All-Wise. What do you think?" + +Nehushta smiled at the deft way in which the queen avoided speaking of +Smerdis by turning the conversation again to religious topics. But +fearing another lecture on the comparative merits of idolatry, human +sacrifice, and monotheism, she manifested very little interest in the +subject. + +"I daresay it is the same. Zoroaster always says so, and that was the +one point that Daniel could never forgive him. The sun is coming through +those plants upon your head--shall we not have our cushions moved into +the shade at the other end?" She clapped her hands and rose languidly, +offering her hand to Atossa. But the queen sprang lightly to her feet. + +"I have stayed too long," she said. "Come with me, dearest princess, and +we will go out into the orange gardens upon the upper terrace. Perhaps," +she added, adjusting the folds of her mantle, "we shall find Zoroaster +there, or some of the princes, or even the Great King himself. Or, +perhaps, it would amuse you to see where I live?" + +Nehushta received her mantle from her slaves, and one of them brought +her a linen tiara in place of the gauze veil she had twisted about her +hair. But Atossa would not permit the change. + +"It is too beautiful!" she cried enthusiastically. "So new! you must +really not change it." + +She put her arm around Nehushta affectionately and led her towards the +door of the inner staircase. Then suddenly she paused, as though +recollecting herself. + +"No," she said, "I will show you the way I came. It is shorter and you +should know it. It may be of use to you." + +So they left the balcony by the little door that was almost masked by +one of the great pillars, and descended the dark stairs. Nehushta +detested every sort of bodily inconvenience, and inwardly wished the +queen had not changed her mind, but had led her by an easier way. + +"It is not far," said the queen, descending rapidly in front of her. + +"It is dreadfully steep," objected Nehushta, "and I can hardly see my +way at all. How many steps are there?" + +"Only a score more," answered the queen's voice, farther down. She +seemed to be hurrying, but Nehushta had no intention of going any +faster, and carefully groped her way. As she began to see a glimmer of +light at the last turn of the winding stair, she heard loud voices in +the corridor below. With the cautious instinct of her race, she paused +and listened. The hard, quick tones of an angry man dominated the rest. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +Zoroaster had sat for nearly an hour, his eyes fixed on the blue sky, +his thoughts wandering in contemplation of things greater and higher +than those of earth, when he was roused by the measured tread of armed +men marching in a distant room. In an instant he stood up, his helmet on +his head,--the whole force of military habit bringing him back suddenly +to the world of reality. In a moment the same heavy curtain, from under +which Atossa had issued two hours before, was drawn aside, and a double +file of spearmen came out upon the balcony, ranging themselves to right +and left with well-drilled precision. A moment more, and the king +himself appeared, walking alone, in his armour and winged helmet, his +left hand upon the hilt of his sword, his splendid mantle hanging to the +ground behind his shoulders. As he came between the soldiers, he walked +more slowly, and his dark, deep-set eyes seemed to scan the bearing and +accoutrements of each separate spearman. It was rarely indeed, in those +early days of his power, that he laid aside his breastplate for the +tunic, or his helmet for the tiara and royal crown. In his whole air and +gait the character of the soldier dominated, and the look of the +conqueror was already in his face. + +Zoroaster strode forward a few paces, and stood still as the king caught +sight of him, preparing to prostrate himself, according to the ancient +custom. But Darius checked him by a gesture; turning half round, he +dismissed the guard, who filed back through the door as they had come, +and the curtain fell behind them. + +"I like not these elaborate customs," said the king. "A simple +salutation, the hand to the lips and forehead--it is quite enough. A man +might win a battle if he had all the time that it takes him to fall down +at my feet and rise up again, twenty times in a day." + +As the king's speech seemed to require no answer, Zoroaster stood +silently waiting for his orders. Darius walked to the balustrade and +stood in the full glare of the sun for a moment, looking out. Then he +came back again. + +"The town seems to be quiet this morning," he said. "How long did the +queen tarry here talking with thee, Zoroaster?" + +"The queen talked with her servant for the space of half an hour," +answered Zoroaster, without hesitation, though he was astonished at the +suddenness and directness of the question. + +"She is gone to see thy princess," continued the king. + +"The queen told her servant it was yet too early to see Nehushta," +remarked the warrior. + +"She is gone to see her, nevertheless," asserted Darius, in a tone of +conviction. "Now, it stands in reason that when the most beautiful woman +in the world has been told that another woman is come who is more +beautiful than she, she will not lose a moment in seeing her." He eyed +Zoroaster curiously for a moment, and his thick black beard did not +altogether hide the smile on his face. "Come," he added, "we shall find +the two together." + +The king led the way and Zoroaster gravely followed. They passed down the +staircase by which the queen had gone, and entering the low passage, came +to the small door which she had bolted behind her with so much difficulty. +The king pushed his weight against it, but it was still fastened. + +"Thou art stronger than I, Zoroaster," he said, with a deep laugh. "Open +the door." + +The young warrior pushed heavily against the planks, and felt that one +of them yielded. Then, standing back, he dealt a heavy blow on the spot +with his clenched fist; a second, and the plank broke in. He put his arm +through the aperture, and easily slipped the bolt back, and the door +flew open. The blood streamed from his hand. + +"That is well done," said Darius as he entered. His quick eye saw +something white upon the stone bench in the dusky corner by the door. He +stooped and picked it up quickly. It was the sealed scroll Atossa had +left there when she needed both her hands to draw the bolt. Darius took +it to one of the narrow windows, looked at it curiously and broke the +seal. Zoroaster stood near and wiped the blood from his bruised knuckle. + +The contents of the scroll were short. It was addressed to one +Phraortes, of Ecbatana in Media, and contained the information that the +Great King had returned in triumph from Babylon, having subdued the +rebels and slain many thousands in two battles. Furthermore, that the +said Phraortes should give instant information of the queen's affairs, +and do nothing in regard to them until further intimation arrived. + +The king stood a moment in deep thought. Then he walked slowly down the +corridor, holding the scroll loose in his hand. Just at that instant +Atossa emerged from the dark staircase, and as she found herself face to +face with Darius, she uttered an exclamation and stood still. + +"This is very convenient place for our interview," said Darius quietly. +"No one can hear us. Therefore speak the truth at once." He held up the +scroll to her eyes. + +Atossa's ready wit did not desert her, nor did she change colour, though +she knew her life was in the balance with her words. She laughed lightly +as she spoke: + +"I came down the stairs this morning----" + +"To see the most beautiful woman in the world," interrupted Darius, +raising his voice. "You have seen her. I am glad of it. Why did you bolt +the door of the passage?" + +"Because I thought it unfitting that the passage to the women's +apartments should be left open when so many in the palace know the way," +she answered readily enough. + +"Where were you taking this letter when you left it at the door?" asked +the king, beginning to doubt whether there were anything wrong at all. + +"I was about to send it to Ecbatana," answered Atossa with perfect +simplicity. + +"Who is this Phraortes?" + +"He is the governor of the lands my father gave me for my own in Media. +I wrote him to tell him of the Great King's victory, and that he should +send me information concerning my affairs, and do nothing further until +he hears from me." + +"Why not?" + +"Because I thought it possible that the Great King would spend the +summer in Ecbatana, and that I should therefore be there myself to give +my own directions. I forgot the letter because I had to take both hands +to draw the bolt, and I was coming back to get it. Nehushta the princess +is with me--she is now upon the staircase." + +The king looked thoughtfully at his wife's beautiful face. + +"You have evidently spoken the truth," he said slowly. "But it is not +always easy to understand what your truth signifies. I often think it +would be much wiser to strangle you. Say you that Nehushta is near? Call +her, then. Why does she tarry?" + +In truth Nehushta had trembled as she crouched upon the stairs, not +knowing whether to descend or to fly up the steps again. As she heard +the queen pronounce her name, however, she judged it prudent to seem to +have been out of earshot, and with quick, soft steps, she went up till +she came to the lighted part, and there she waited. + +"Let the Great King go himself and find her," said Atossa proudly, "if +he doubts me any further." She stood aside to let him pass. But Darius +beckoned to Zoroaster to go. He had remained standing at some distance, +an unwilling witness to the royal altercation that had taken place +before him; but as he passed the queen, she gave him a glance of +imploring sadness, as though beseeching his sympathy in what she was +made to suffer. He ran quickly up the steps in spite of the darkness, +and found Nehushta waiting by the window higher up. She started as he +appeared, for he was the person she least expected. But he took her +quickly in his arms, and kissed her passionately twice. + +"Come quickly, my beloved," he whispered. "The king waits below." + +"I heard his voice--and then I fled," she whispered hurriedly; and they +began to descend again. "I hate her--I knew I should," she whispered, as +she leaned upon his arm. So they emerged into the corridor, and met +Darius waiting for them. The queen was nowhere to be seen, and the door +at the farther extremity of the narrow way was wide open. + +The king was as calm as though nothing had occurred; he still held the +open letter in his hand as Nehushta entered the passage, and bowed +herself before him. He took her hand for a moment, and then dropped it; +but his eyes flashed suddenly and his arm trembled at her touch. + +"Thou hadst almost lost thy way," he said. "The palace is large and the +passages are many and devious. Come now, I will lead thee to the +gardens. There thou canst find friends among the queen's noble women, +and amusements of many kinds. Let thy heart delight in the beauty of +Shushan, and if there is anything that thou desirest, ask and I will +give it thee." + +Nehushta bent her head in thanks. The only thing she desired was to be +alone for half an hour with Zoroaster; and that seemed difficult. + +"Thy servant desireth what is pleasant in thy sight," she answered. And +so they left the passage by the open door, and the king himself +conducted Nehushta to the entrance of the garden, and bade the +slave-woman who met them to lead her to the pavilion where the ladies of +the palace spent the day in the warm summer weather. Zoroaster knew that +whatever liberty his singular position allowed him in the quarter of the +building where the king himself lived, he was not privileged to enter +that place which was set apart for the noble ladies. Darius hated to be +always surrounded by guards and slaves, and the terraces and staircases +of his dwelling were generally totally deserted,--only small detachments +of spearmen guarding jealously the main entrances. But the remainder of +the palace swarmed with the gorgeously dressed retinue of the court, +with slaves of every colour and degree, from the mute smooth-faced +Ethiopian to the accomplished Hebrew scribes of the great nobles; from +the black and scantily-clad fan-girls to the dainty Greek tirewomen of +the queen's toilet, who loitered near the carved marble fountain at the +entrance to the gardens; and in the outer courts, detachments of the +horsemen of the guard rubbed their weapons, or reddened their broad +leather bridles and trappings with red chalk, or groomed the horse of +some lately arrived officer or messenger, or hung about and basked in +the sun, with no clothing but their short-sleeved linen tunics and +breeches, discussing the affairs of the nation with the certainty of +decision peculiar to all soldiers, high and low. There was only room for +a squadron of horse in the palace; but though they were few, they were +the picked men of the guard, and every one of them felt himself as +justly entitled to an opinion concerning the position of the new king, +as though he were at least a general. + +But Darius allowed no gossiping slaves nor wrangling soldiers in his own +dwelling. There all was silent and apparently deserted, and thither he +led Zoroaster again. The young warrior was astonished at the way in +which the king moved about unattended, as carelessly as though he were a +mere soldier himself; he was not yet accustomed to the restless +independence of character, to the unceasing activity and perfect +personal fearlessness of the young Darius. It was hard to realise that +this simple, hard-handed, outspoken man was the Great King, and occupied +the throne of the magnificent and stately Cyrus, who never stirred +abroad without the full state of the court about him; or that he reigned +in the stead of the luxurious Cambyses, who feared to tread upon +uncovered marble, or to expose himself to the draught of a staircase; +and who, after seven years of caring for his body, had destroyed himself +in a fit of impotent passion. Darius succeeded to the throne of Persia +as a lion coming into the place of jackals, as an eagle into a nest of +crows and carrion birds--untiring, violent, relentless and brave. + +"Knowest thou one Phraortes, of Ecbatana?" the king asked suddenly when +he was alone with Zoroaster. + +"I know him," answered the prince. "A man rich, and powerful, full of +vanity as a peacock, and of wiles like a serpent. Not noble. He is the +son of a fish-vendor, grown rich by selling salted sturgeons in the +market-place. He is also the overseer of the queen's farmlands in Media, +and of the Great King's horse-breeding stables." + +"Go forth and bring him to me," said the king shortly. Without a word, +Zoroaster made a brief salute and turned upon his heel to go. But it was +as though a man had thrust him through with a knife. The king gazed +after him in admiration of his magnificent obedience. + +"Stay!" he called out. "How long wilt thou be gone?" + +Zoroaster turned sharply round in military fashion, as he answered: + +"It is a hundred and fifty farsangs[3] to Ecbatana. By the king's relays +I can ride there in six days, and I can bring back Phraortes in six days +more--if he die not of the riding," he added, with a grim smile. + + [Footnote 3: Between five and six hundred English miles. South + American postilions at the present day ride six hundred miles a + week for a bare living.] + +"Is he old, or young? Fat, or meagre?" asked the king, laughing. + +"He is a man of forty years, neither thin nor fat--a good horseman in +his way, but not as we are." + +"Bind him to his horse if he falls off from weariness. And tell him he +is summoned to appear before me. Tell him the business brooks no delay. +Auramazda be with thee and bring thee help. Go with speed." + +Again Zoroaster turned and in a moment he was gone. He had sworn to be +the king's faithful servant, and he would keep his oath, cost what it +might, though it was bitterness to him to leave Nehushta without a word. +He bethought him as he hastily put on light garments for the journey, +that he might send her a letter, and he wrote a few words upon a piece +of parchment, and folded it together. As he passed by the entrance of +the garden on his way to the stables, he looked about for one of +Nehushta's slaves; but seeing none, he beckoned to one of the Greek +tirewomen, and giving her a piece of gold, bade her take the little +scroll to Nehushta, the Hebrew princess, who was in the gardens. Then he +went quickly on, and mounting the best horse in the king's stables, +galloped at a break-neck pace down the steep incline. In five minutes he +had crossed the bridge, and was speeding over the straight, dusty road +toward Nineveh. In a quarter of an hour, a person watching him from the +palace would have seen his flying figure disappearing as in a tiny speck +of dust far out upon the broad, green plain. + +But the Greek slave-woman stood with Zoroaster's letter in her hand and +held the gold piece he had given her in her mouth, debating what she +should do. She was one of the queen's women, as it chanced, and she +immediately reflected that she might turn the writing to some better +account than by delivering it to Nehushta, whom she had seen for a +moment that morning as she passed, and whose dark Hebrew face displeased +the frivolous Greek, for some hidden reason. She thought of giving the +scroll to the queen, but then she reflected that she did not know what +it contained. The words were written hastily and in the Chaldean +character. Their import might displease her mistress. The woman was not +a newcomer, and she knew Zoroaster's face well enough from former times; +she knew also, or suspected, that the queen secretly loved him, and she +argued from the fact of Zoroaster, who was dressed for a journey, +sending so hastily a word to Nehushta, that he loved the Hebrew +princess. Therefore, if the letter were a mere love greeting, with no +name written in it, the queen might apply it to herself, and she would +be pleased; whereas, if it were in any way clear that the writing was +intended for Nehushta, the queen would certainly be glad that it should +never be delivered. The result of this cunning argument was that the +Greek woman thrust the letter into her bosom, and the gold piece into +her girdle; and went to seek an opportunity of seeing the queen alone. + +That day, towards evening, Atossa sat in an inner chamber before her +great mirror; the table was covered with jade boxes, silver combs, bowls +of golden hair-pins, little ivory instruments, and all the appurtenances +of her toilet. Two or three magnificent jewels lay among the many +articles of use, gleaming in the reflected light of the two tall lamps +that stood on bronze stands beside her chair. She was fully attired and +had dismissed her women; but she lingered a moment, poring over the +little parchment scroll her chief hairdresser had slipped into her hand +when they were alone for a moment. Only a black fan-girl stood a few +paces behind her, and resting the stem of the long palm against one foot +thrust forward, swung the broad round leaf quickly from side to side at +arm's length, sending a constant stream of fresh air upon her royal +mistress, just below the level of the lamps which burned steadily above. + +The queen turned the small letter again in her hand, and smiled to +herself as she looked into the great burnished sheet of silver that +surmounted the table. With some difficulty she had mastered the +contents, for she knew enough of Hebrew and of the Chaldean character to +comprehend the few simple words. + +"I go hence for twelve days upon the king's business. My beloved, my +soul is with thy soul and my heart with thy heart. As the dove that +goeth forth in the morning and returneth in the evening to his mate, so +I will return soon to thee." + +Atossa knew well enough that the letter had been intended for Nehushta. +The woman had whispered that Zoroaster had given it to her, and +Zoroaster would never have written those words to herself; or, writing +anything, would not have written in the Hebrew language. + +But as the queen read, her heart rose up in wrath against the Persian +prince and against the woman he loved. When she had talked with him that +morning, she had felt her old yearning affection rising again in her +breast. She had wondered at herself, being accustomed to think that she +was beyond all feeling for man, and the impression she had received from +her half-hour's talk with him was so strong, that she had foolishly +delayed sending her letter to Phraortes, in order to see the woman +Zoroaster admired, and had, in her absence of mind, forgotten the +scroll upon the seat in the corridor, and had brought herself into such +desperate danger through the discovery of the missive, that she hardly +yet felt safe. The king had dismissed her peremptorily from his presence +while he waited for Nehushta, and she had not seen him during the rest +of the day. As for Zoroaster, she had soon heard from her women that he +had taken the road towards Nineveh before noon, alone and almost +unarmed, mounted upon one of the fleetest horses in Persia. She had not +a doubt that Darius had despatched him at once to Ecbatana to meet +Phraortes, or at least to inquire into the state of affairs in the city. +She knew that no one could outride Zoroaster, and that there was nothing +to be done but to await the issue. It was not possible to send a word of +warning to her agent--he must inevitably take his chance, and if his +conduct attracted suspicion, he would, in all probability, be at once +put to death. She believed that, even in that event, she could easily +clear herself; but she resolved, if possible, to warn him as soon as he +reached Shushan, or even to induce the king to be absent from the palace +for a few days at the time when Phraortes might be expected. There was +plenty of time--at least eleven days. + +Meanwhile, a desperate struggle was beginning within her, and the letter +her woman had brought her hastened the conclusion to which her thoughts +were rapidly tending. + +She felt keenly the fact that Zoroaster, who had been so cold to her +advances in former days, had preferred before her a Hebrew woman, and +was now actually so deeply in love with Nehushta, that he could not +leave the palace for a few days without writing her a word of love--he, +who had never loved any one! She fiercely hated this dark woman, who was +preferred before her by the man she secretly loved, and whom the king +had brutally declared to be the most beautiful woman in the world. She +longed for her destruction as she had never longed for anything in her +life. Her whole soul rose in bitter resentment; not only did Zoroaster +love this black-eyed, dark-browed child of captivity, but the king, who +had always maintained that Atossa was unequalled in the world, even when +he coldly informed her that he would never trust her, now dared to say +before Zoroaster, almost before Nehushta herself, that the princess was +the more beautiful of the two. The one man wounded her in her vanity, +the other in her heart. + +It would not be possible at present to be revenged upon the king. There +was little chance of eluding his sleepless vigilance, or of leading him +into any rash act of self-destruction. Besides, she knew him too well +not to understand that he was the only man alive who could save Persia +from further revolutions, and keep the throne against all comers. She +loved power and the splendour of her royal existence, perhaps more than +she loved Zoroaster. The idea of another change in the monarchy was not +to be thought of, now that Darius had subdued Babylon. She had indeed a +half-concerted plan with Phraortes to seize the power in Media in case +the king were defeated in Babylonia, and the scroll she had so +imprudently forgotten that very morning was merely an order to lay +aside all such plans for the present, since the king had returned in +triumph. + +As far as her conscience was concerned, Atossa would as soon have +overthrown and murdered the king to gratify the personal anger she felt +against him at the present moment, as she would have wrecked the +universe to possess a jewel she fancied. There existed in her mind no +idea of proportion between the gratification of her passions and the +means she might employ thereto; provided one gratification did not +interfere with another which she always saw beyond. Nothing startled her +on account of its mere magnitude; no plan was rejected by her merely +because it implied ruin to a countless number of human beings who were +useless to her. She coldly calculated the amount of satisfaction she +could at any time obtain for her wishes and desires, so as not to +prejudice the gratification of all the possible passions she might +hereafter experience. + +As for injuring Zoroaster, she would not have thought of it. She loved +him in a way peculiar to herself, but it was love, nevertheless,--and +she had no idea of wreaking her disappointment upon the object on which +she had set her heart. As a logical consequence, she determined to turn +all her anger against Nehushta, and she pictured to herself the +delicious pleasure of torturing the young princess's jealousy to +desperation. To convince Nehushta that Zoroaster was deceiving her, and +really loved herself, the queen; to force Zoroaster into some position +where he must either silently let Nehushta believe that he was attached +to Atossa, or, as an alternative, betray the king's secrets by speaking +the truth; to let Nehushta's vanity be flattered by the king's +admiration,--nay, even to force her into a marriage with Darius, and +then by suffering her again to fall into her first love for Zoroaster, +bring her to a public disgrace by suddenly unmasking her to the king--to +accomplish these things surely and quickly, reserving for herself the +final delight of scoffing at her worsted rival--all this seemed to +Atossa to constitute a plan at once worthy of her profound and scheming +intelligence, and most sweetly satisfactory to her injured vanity and +rejected love. + +It would be hard for her to see Nehushta married to the king, and +occupying the position of chief favourite even for a time. But the +triumph would be the sweeter when Nehushta was finally overthrown, and +meanwhile there would be much daily delight in tormenting the princess's +jealousy. Chance, or rather the cunning of her Greek tirewoman, had +thrown a weapon in her way which could easily be turned into an +instrument of torture, and as she sat before her mirror, she twisted and +untwisted the little bit of parchment, and smiled to herself, a sweet +bright smile--and leaned her head back to the pleasant breeze of the +fan. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +The noonday air was hot and dry in the garden of the palace, but in the +graceful marble pavilion there was coolness and the sound of gently +plashing water. Rose-trees and climbing plants screened the sunlight +from the long windows, and gave a soft green tinge to the eight-sided +hall, where a fountain played in the midst, its little jet falling into +a basin hollowed in the floor. On the rippling surface a few +water-lilies swayed gently with the constant motion, anchored by their +long stems to the bottom. All was cool and quiet and restful, and +Nehushta stood looking at the fountain. + +She was alone and very unhappy. Zoroaster had left the palace without a +word to her, and she knew only by the vague reports her slaves brought +her, that he was gone for many days. Her heart sank at the thought of +all that might happen before he returned, and the tears stood in her +eyes. + +"Are you here alone, dear princess?" said a soft, clear voice behind +her. Nehushta started, as though something had stung her, as she +recognised Atossa's tones. There was nothing of her assumed cordiality +of the previous day as she answered. She was too unhappy, too weary of +the thought that her lover was gone, to be able to act a part, or +pretend a friendliness she did not feel. + +"Yes--I am alone," she said quietly. + +"So am I," answered Atossa, her blue eyes sparkling with the sunshine +she brought in with her, and all her wonderful beauty beaming, as it +were, with an overflowing happiness. "The ladies of the court are gone +in state to the city, in the Great King's train, and you and I are alone +in the palace. How deliciously cool it is in here." + +She sat down upon a heap of cushions by one of the screened windows and +contemplated Nehushta, who still stood by the fountain. + +"You look sad--and tired, dearest Nehushta," said she presently. "Indeed +you must not be sad here--nobody is sad here!" + +"I am sad," repeated Nehushta, in a dreary, monotonous way, as though +scarcely conscious of what she was saying. There was a moment's silence +before Atossa spoke again. + +"Tell me what it is," she said at last, in persuasive accents. "Tell me +what is the matter. It may be that you lack something--that you miss +something you were used to in Ecbatana. Will you not tell me, dearest?" + +"Tell you what?" asked Nehushta, as though she had not heard. + +"Tell me what it is that makes you sad," repeated the queen. + +"Tell you?" exclaimed the princess, suddenly looking up, with flashing +eyes, "tell _you?_ oh no!" + +Atossa looked a little sadly at Nehushta, as though hurt at the want of +confidence she showed. But the Hebrew maiden turned away and went and +looked through the hanging plants at the garden without. Then Atossa +rose softly and came and stood behind her, and put her arm about her, +and let her own fair cheek rest against the princess's dark face. +Nehushta said nothing, but she trembled, as though something she hated +were touching her. + +"Is it because your friend has gone away suddenly?" asked Atossa almost +in a whisper, with the sweetest accent of sympathy. Nehushta started a +little. + +"No!" she answered, almost fiercely. "Why do you say that?" + +"Only--he wrote me a little word before he went. I thought you might +like to know he was safe," replied the queen, gently pressing her arm +about Nehushta's slender waist. + +"Wrote to you?" repeated the princess, in angry surprise. + +"Yes, dearest," answered the queen, looking down in well-feigned +embarrassment. "I would not have told you, only I thought you would wish +to hear of him. If you like, I will read you a part of what he says," +she added, producing from her bosom the little piece of parchment +carefully rolled together. + +It was more than Nehushta could bear. Her olive skin turned suddenly +pale, and she tore herself away from the queen. + +"Oh no! no! I will not hear it! Leave me in peace--for your gods' sake, +leave me in peace!" + +Atossa drew herself up and stared coldly at Nehushta, as though she were +surprised beyond measure and deeply offended. + +"Truly, I need not be told twice to leave you in peace," she said +proudly. "I thought to comfort you, because I saw you were sad--even at +the expense of my own feelings. I will leave you now--but I bear no +malice against you. You are very, very young, and very, very foolish." + +Atossa shook her head, thoughtfully, and swept from the pavilion in +stately and offended dignity. But as she walked alone through the +garden, she smiled to herself and softly hummed a merry melody she had +heard from an Egyptian actor on the previous evening. Darius had brought +a company of Egyptians from Babylon, and after the banquet, had +commanded that they should perform their music, and dancing, and +mimicry, for the amusement of the assembled court. + +Atossa's sweet voice echoed faintly among the orange trees and the +roses, as she went towards the palace, and the sound of it came +distantly to Nehushta's ears. She stood for a while where the queen had +left her, her face pale and her hands wringing together; and then, with +a sudden impulse, she went and threw herself upon the floor, and buried +her head in the deep, soft cushions. Her hands wandered in the wealth of +her black hair, and her quick, hot tears stained the delicate silk of +the pillows. + +How could he? How was it possible? He said he loved her, and now, when +he was sent away for many days, his only thought had been to write to +the queen--not to herself! An agony of jealousy overwhelmed her, and she +could have torn out her very soul, and trampled her own heart under her +feet in her anger. Passionately she clasped her hands to her temples; +her head seemed splitting with a new and dreadful pain that swallowed +all her thoughts for a moment, until the cold weight seemed again to +fall upon her breast and all her passion gushed out in abundant tears. +Suddenly a thought struck her. She roused herself, leaning upon one +hand, and stared vacantly a moment at her small gilded shoe which had +fallen from her bare foot upon the marble pavement. She absently reached +forward and took the thing in her hand, and gravely contemplated the +delicate embroidery and thick gilding, through her tears,--as one will +do a foolish and meaningless thing in the midst of a great sorrow. + +Was it possible that the queen had deceived her? How she wished she had +let her read the writing as she had offered to do. She did not imagine +at first that the letter was for herself and had gone astray. But she +thought the queen might easily have pretended to have received +something, or had even scratched a few words upon a bit of parchment, +meaning to pass it off upon her as a letter from Zoroaster. She longed +to possess the thing and to judge of it with her own eyes. It would +hardly be possible to say whether it were written by him or not, as far +as the handwriting was concerned; but Nehushta was sure she should +recognise some word, some turn of language that would assure her that it +was his. She could almost have risen and gone in search of the queen at +once, to prove the lie upon her--to challenge her to show the writing. +But her pride forbade her. She had been so weak--she should not have let +Atossa see, even for a moment, that she was hurt, not even that she +loved Zoroaster. She had tried to conceal her feelings, but Atossa had +gone too far, had tortured her beyond all endurance, and she knew that, +even if she had known what to expect, she could not have easily borne +the soft, infuriating, deadly, caressing, goading taunts of that fair, +cruel woman. + +Then again, the whole possibility of Zoroaster's unfaithfulness came and +took shape before her. He had known and loved Atossa of old, perhaps, +and now the old love had risen up and killed the new--he had sworn so +truly under the ivory moonlight in Ecbatana. And yet--he had written to +this other woman and not to her. Was it true? Was it Atossa's cruel lie? +In a storm of doubt and furious passion, her tears welled forth again; +and once more she hid her face in the pale yellow cushions, and her +whole beautiful body trembled and was wrung with her sobs. + +Suddenly she was aware that some one entered the little hall and stood +beside her. She dared not look up at first; she was unstrung and +wretched in her grief and anger, and it was the strong, firm tread of a +man. The footsteps ceased, and the intruder, whoever he might be, was +standing still; she took courage and looked quickly up. It was the king +himself. Indeed, she might have known that no other man would dare to +penetrate into the recesses of the garden set apart for the ladies of +the palace. + +Darius stood quietly gazing at her with an expression of doubt and +curiosity, that was almost amusing, on his stern, dark face. Nehushta +was frightened, and sprang to her feet with the graceful quickness of a +startled deer. She was indolent by nature, but as swift as light when +she was roused by fear or excitement. + +"Are you so unhappy in my palace?" asked Darius gently. "Why are you +weeping? Who has hurt you?" + +Nehushta turned her face away and dashed the tears from her eyes, while +her cheeks flushed hotly. + +"I am not weeping--no one--has hurt me," she answered, in a voice broken +rather by embarrassment and annoyance, than by the sorrow she had nearly +forgotten in her sudden astonishment at being face to face with the +king. + +Darius smiled, and almost laughed, as he stroked his thick beard with +his broad brown hand. + +"Princess," he said, "will you sit down again? I will deliver you a +discourse upon the extreme folly of ever telling"--he hesitated--"of +saying anything which is not precisely true." + +There was something so simple and honest in his manner of speaking, that +Nehushta almost smiled through her half-dried tears as she sat upon the +cushions at the king's feet. He himself sat down upon the broad marble +seat that ran round the eight-sided little building, and composing his +face to a serious expression, that was more than half-assumed, began to +deliver his lecture. + +"I take it for granted that when one tells a lie, he expects to be +believed. There must, then, be some thing or circumstance which can help +to make his lies credible. Now, my dear princess, in the present +instance, while I was looking you in the face and counting the tears +upon your very beautiful cheeks, you deliberately told me that you were +not weeping. There was, therefore, not even the shadow of a thing, or +circumstance which could make what you said credible. It is evident that +what you said was not true. Is it not so?" + +Nehushta could not help smiling as she looked up and saw the kindly +light in the king's dark eyes. She thought she understood he was amusing +her for the sake of giving her time to collect herself, and in spite of +the determined intention of marrying her he had so lately expressed, she +felt safe with him. + +"The king lives for ever," she answered, in the set phrase of assent +common at the court. + +"It is very probable," replied Darius gravely. "So many people say so, +that I should have to believe all mankind liars if that were not true. +But I must return to your own particular case. It would have been easy +for you not to have said what you did. I must therefore suppose that in +going out of the way to make an attempt to deceive me in the face of +such evidence--by saying you were not weeping when the tears were +actually falling from those very soft eyes of yours--you had an object +to gain. Men employ truth and falsehood for much the same reason: A man +who does not respect truth will, therefore, lie when he can hope to gain +more by it. The man who lies expects to gain something by his lie, and +the man who tells the truth hopes that, in so doing, he will establish +himself a credit which he can use upon future occasions.[4] But the +object is the same. Tell me, therefore, princess, what did you hope to +gain by trying to deceive me?" Darius laughed as he concluded his +argument and looked at Nehushta to see what she would say--Nehushta +laughed also, she could hardly tell why. The king's brilliant, active +humour was catching. She reached out and thrust her foot into the little +slipper that still lay beside her, before she answered. + + [Footnote 4: Herodotus, book iii. chap. lxxii.] + +"What I said was true in one way and not in another," she said. "I had +been crying bitterly, but I stopped when I heard the king come and stand +beside me. So it was only the tears the king saw and not the weeping. As +for the object,"--she laughed a little,--"it was, perhaps, that I might +gain time to dry my eyes." + +Darius shifted his position a little. + +"I know," he said gravely. "And I know why you were weeping, and it is +my fault. Will you forgive me, princess? I am a hasty man, not +accustomed to think twice when I give my commands." + +Nehushta looked up suddenly with an expression of inquiry. + +"I sent him away very quickly," continued the king. "If I had thought, I +would have told him to come and bid you farewell. He would not have +willingly gone without seeing you--it was my fault. He will return in +twelve days." + +Nehushta was silent and bit her lip as the bitter thought arose in her +heart that it was not alone Zoroaster's sudden departure that had pained +her. Then it floated across her mind that the king had purposely sent +away her lover in order that he might himself try to win her heart. + +"Why did you send him--and not another?" she asked, without looking up, +and forgetting all formality of speech. + +"Because he is the man of all others whom I can trust, and I needed a +faithful messenger," answered Darius, simply. + +Nehushta gazed into the king's face searching for some sign there, but +he had spoken earnestly enough. + +"I thought--" she began, and then stopped short, blushing crimson. + +"You thought," answered Darius, "that I had sent him away never to +return because I desire you for my wife. It was natural, but it was +unjust. I sent him because I was obliged to do so. If you wish it, I +will leave you now, and I will promise you that I will not look upon +your face till Zoroaster returns." + +Nehushta looked down and she still blushed. She could hardly believe her +ears. + +"Indeed," she faltered, "it were perhaps--best--I mean--" she could not +finish the sentence. Darius rose quietly from his seat: + +"Farewell, princess; it shall be as you desire," he said gravely, and +strode towards the door. His face was pale and his lips set tight. + +Nehushta hesitated and then, in a moment, she comprehended the whole +nobility of soul of the young king,--a man at whose words the whole land +trembled, who crushed his enemies like empty egg-shells beneath his +feet, and yet who, when he held the woman he loved completely in his +power, refused, even for a moment, to intrude his presence upon her +against her wish. + +She sprang from her seat and ran to him, and kneeled on one knee and +took his hand. He did not look at her, but his own hand trembled +violently in hers, and he made as though he would lift her to her feet. + +"Nay," she cried, "let not my lord be angry with his handmaiden! Let the +king grant me my request, for he is the king of men and of kings!" In +her sudden emotion she spoke once more in the form of a humble subject +addressing her sovereign. + +"Speak, princess," answered Darius. "If it be possible, I will grant +your request." + +"I would--" she stopped, and again the generous blood overspread her +dark cheek. "I would--I know not what I would, saving to thank thee for +thy goodness and kindness--I was unhappy, and thou hast comforted me. I +meant not that it was best that I should not look upon the king's face." +She spoke the last words in so low a tone as she bent her head, that +Darius could scarcely hear them. But his willing ears interpreted +rightly what she said, and he understood. + +"Shall I come to you to-morrow, princess, at the same hour?" he asked, +almost humbly. + +"Nay, the king knoweth that the garden is ever full of the women of the +court," said Nehushta, hesitating; for she thought that it would be a +very different matter to be seen from a distance by all the ladies of +the palace in conversation with the king. + +"Do not fear," answered Darius. "The garden shall be yours. There are +other bowers of roses in Shushan whither the women can go. None but you +shall enter here, so long as it be your pleasure. Farewell, I will come +to you to-morrow at noon." + +He turned and looked into her eyes, and then she took his hand and +silently placed it upon her forehead in thanks. In a moment he was gone +and she could hear his quick tread upon the marble of the steps outside, +and in the path through the roses. When she knew that he was out of +sight, Nehushta went out and stood in the broad blaze of the noonday +sun. She passed her hand over her forehead, as though she had been +dazed. It seemed as though a change had come over her and she could not +understand it. + +In the glad security of being alone, she ran swiftly down one of the +paths, and across by another. Then she stopped short and bent down a +great bough of blooming roses and buried her beautiful dark face in the +sweet leaves and smelled the perfume, and laughed. + +"Oh! I am so happy!" she cried aloud. But her face suddenly became +grave, as she tried to understand what she felt. After all, Zoroaster +was only gone for twelve days, and meanwhile she had secured her +liberty, the freedom of wandering all day in the beautiful gardens, and +she could dream of him to her heart's content. And the letter? It was a +forgery, of course. That wicked queen loved Zoroaster and wished to make +Nehushta give him up! Perhaps she might tell the king something of it +when he came on the next day. He would be so royally angry! He would so +hate the lie! And yet, in some way, it seemed to her that she could not +tell Darius of this trouble. He had been so kind, so gentle, as though +he had been her brother, instead of the Great King himself, who bore +life and death in his right hand and his left, whose shadow was a terror +to the world already, and at whose brief, imperious word a nation rose +to arms and victory. Was this the terrible Darius? The man who had slain +the impostor with his own sword? who had vanquished rebel Babylon in a +few days and brought home four thousand captives at his back? He was as +gentle as a girl, this savage warrior--but when she recalled his +features, she remembered the stern look that came into his face when he +was serious, she grew thoughtful and wandered slowly down the path, +biting a rose-leaf delicately with her small white teeth and thinking +many things; most of all, how she might be revenged upon Atossa for what +she had suffered that morning. + +But Atossa herself was enjoying at that very moment the triumph of the +morning and quietly planning how she might continue the torment she had +imagined for Nehushta, without allowing its cruelty to diminish, while +keeping herself amused and occupied to the fullest extent until +Zoroaster should return. It was not long before she learned from her +chief tirewoman that the king had been in the pavilion of the garden +with Nehushta that morning, and it at once occurred to her that, if the +king returned on the following day, it would be an easy thing to appear +while he was with the princess, and by veiled words and allusions to +Zoroaster, to make her rival suffer the most excruciating torments, +which she would be forced to conceal from the king. + +But, at the same time, the news gave her cause for serious thought. She +had certainly not intended that Nehushta should be left alone for hours +with Darius. She knew indeed that the princess loved Zoroaster, but she +could not conceive that any woman should be insensible to the +consolation the Great King could offer. If affairs took such a turn, she +fully intended to allow the king to marry Nehushta, while she +confidently believed it in her power to destroy her just when she had +reached the summit of her ambition. + +It chanced that the king chose that day to eat his evening meal in the +sole company of Atossa, as he sometimes did when weary of the court +ceremony. When, therefore, they reclined at sundown upon a small +secluded terrace of the upper story, Atossa found an excellent +opportunity of discussing Nehushta and her doings. + +Darius lay upon a couch on one side of the low table, and Atossa was +opposite to him. The air was dry and intensely hot, and on each side two +black fan-girls plied their palm-leaves silently with all their might. +The king lay back upon his cushions, his head uncovered, and all his +shaggy curls of black hair tossed behind him, his broad, strong hand +circling a plain goblet of gold that stood beside him on the table. For +once, he had laid aside his breastplate, and a vest of white and purple +fell loosely over his tunic; but his sword of keen Indian steel lay +within reach upon the floor. + +Atossa had raised herself upon her elbow, and her clear blue eyes were +fixed upon the king's face, thoughtfully, as though expecting that he +would say something. Contrary to all custom, she wore a Greek tunic +with short sleeves caught at the shoulders by golden buckles, and her +fair hair was gathered into a heavy knot, low down, behind her head. Her +dazzling arms and throat were bare, but above her right elbow she wore a +thick twisted snake of gold, her only ornament. + +"The king is not athirst to-night," said Atossa at last, watching the +full goblet that he grasped, but did not raise. + +"I am not always thirsty," answered Darius moodily. "Would you have me +always drunk, like a Babylonian dog?" + +"No; nor always sober, like a Persian captain." + +"What Persian captain?" asked the king, suddenly looking at her and +knitting his brows. + +"Why, like him, whom, for his sobriety you have sent to-day on the way +to Nineveh," answered Atossa. + +"I have sent no one to Nineveh to-day." + +"To Ecbatana then, to inquire whether I told you the truth about my poor +servant Phraortes--Fravartish, as you call him," said the queen, with a +flash of spite in her blue eyes. + +"I assure you," answered the king, laughing, "that it is solely on +account of your remarkable beauty that I have not had you strangled. So +soon as you grow ugly you shall surely die. It is very unwise of me, as +it is!" + +The queen, too, laughed, a low, silvery laugh. + +"I am greatly indebted for my life," said she. "I am very beautiful, I +am aware, but I am no longer the most beautiful woman in the world." She +spoke without a trace of annoyance in her voice or face, as though it +were a good jest. + +"No," said Darius, thoughtfully. "I used to think that you were. It is +in the nature of man to change his opinion. You are, nevertheless, very +beautiful--I admire your Greek dress." + +"Shall I send my tirewoman with one like it to Nehushta?" inquired +Atossa, raising her delicate eyebrows, with a sweet smile. + +"You will not need to improve her appearance in order that she may find +favour in my eyes," answered Darius, laughing. "But the jest is good. +You would rather send her an Indian snake than an ornament." + +"Yes," returned the queen, who understood the king's strange character +better than any one. "You cannot in honesty expect me not to hate a +woman whom you think more beautiful than me! It would hardly be natural. +It is unfortunate that she should prefer the sober Persian captain to +the king himself." + +"It is unfortunate--yes--fortunate for you, however." + +"I mean, it will chafe sadly upon you when you have married her," said +Atossa, calmly. + +Darius raised the goblet he still held and setting it to his lips drank +it at a draught. As he replaced it on the table, Atossa rose swiftly, +and with her own hands refilled it from a golden ewer. The wine was of +Shiraz, dark and sweet and strong. The king took her small white hand in +his, as she stood beside him, and looked at it. + +"It is a beautiful hand," he said. "Nehushta's fingers are a trifle +shorter than yours--a little more pointed--a little less grasping. +Shall I marry Nehushta, or not?" He looked up as he asked the question, +and he laughed. + +"No," answered Atossa, laughing too. + +"Shall I marry her to Zoroaster?" + +"No," she answered again, but her laugh was less natural. + +"What shall I do with her?" asked the king. + +"Strangle her!" replied Atossa, with a little fierce pressure on his +hand as he held hers, and without the least hesitation. + +"There would be frequent sudden deaths in Persia, if you were king," +said Darius. + +"It seems to me there are enough slain, as it is," answered the queen. +"There are, perhaps, one--or two----" + +Suddenly the king's face grew grave, and he dropped her hand. + +"Look you!" he said, "I love jesting. But jest not overmuch with me. Do +no harm to Nehushta, or I will make an end of your jesting for ever, by +sure means. That white throat of yours would look ill with a bow-string +about it." + +The queen bit her lip. The king seldom spoke to her in earnest, and she +was frightened. + +On the following day, when she went to the garden, two tall spearmen +guarded the entrance, and as she was about to go in, they crossed their +lances over the marble door and silently barred the way. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + + +Atossa started back in pure astonishment and stared for a moment at the +two guards, looking from one to the other, and trying to read their +stolid faces. Then she laid her hand on their spears, and would have +pushed them aside; but she could not. + +"Whose hounds are ye?" she said angrily. "Know ye not the queen? Make +way!" + +But the two strong soldiers neither answered nor removed their weapons +from before the door. + +"Dog-faced slaves!" she said between her teeth. "I will crucify you both +before sundown!" She turned and went away, but she was glad that no one +was there in the narrow vestibule before the garden to see her +discomfiture. It was the first time in her life she had ever been +resisted by an inferior, and she could not bear it easily. But when she +discovered, half an hour later, that the guards were obeying the Great +King's orders, she bowed her head silently and went to her apartments to +consider what she should do. + +She could do nothing. There was no appeal against the king's word. He +had distinctly commanded that no one save Nehushta, not even Atossa +herself, was to be allowed to enter; he had placed the guards there +himself the previous day, and had himself given the order. + +For eleven days the door was barred; but Atossa did not again attempt to +enter. Darius would have visited roughly such an offence, and she knew +how delicate her position was. She resigned herself and occupied her +mind with other things. Daily, an hour before noon, Nehushta swept +proudly through the gate, and disappeared among the roses and myrtles of +the garden; and daily, precisely as the sun reached the meridian, the +king went in between the spearmen, and disappeared in like manner. + +Darius had grown so suddenly stern and cold in manner towards the queen, +that she dared not even mention the subject of the garden to him, +fearing a sadden outburst of his anger, which would surely put an end to +her existence in the court, and very likely to her life. + +As for Nehushta, she had plentiful cause for reflection and much time +for dreaming. If the days were not happy, they were at least made +bearable for her by the absolute liberty she enjoyed. The king would +have given her slaves and jewels and rich gifts without end, had she +been willing to accept them. She said she had all she needed--and she +said it a little proudly; only the king's visits grew to be the centre +of the day, and each day the visit lengthened, till it came to be nearly +evening when Darius issued from the gate. + +She always waited for him in the eight-sided pavilion, and as their +familiarity grew, the king would not even permit her to rise when he +came, nor to use any of those forms of the court speech which were so +distasteful to him. He simply sat himself down beside her, and talked to +her and listened to her answers, as though he were one of his own +subjects, no more hampered by the cares and state of royalty than any +soldier in the kingdom. + +It was a week since Zoroaster had mounted to ride to Ecbatana, and +Darius sat as usual upon the marble bench by the side of Nehushta, who +rested among the cushions, talking now without constraint upon all +matters that chanced to occur as subjects of conversation. She thought +Darius was more silent than usual, and his dark face was pale. He seemed +weary, as though from some great struggle, and presently Nehushta +stopped speaking and waited to see whether the king would say anything. + +During the silence nothing was heard saving the plash of the little +fountain, and the low soft ripple of the tiny waves that rocked +themselves against the edge of the basin. + +"Do you know, Nehushta," he said at last, in a weary voice, "that I am +doing one of the worst actions of my life?" + +Nehushta started, and the shadows in her face grew darker. + +"Say rather the kindest action you ever did," she murmured. + +"If it is not bad, it is foolish," said Darius, resting his chin upon +his hand and leaning forward. "I would rather it were foolish than +bad--I fear me it is both." + +Nehushta could guess well enough what it was he would say. She knew she +could have turned the subject, or laughed, or interrupted him in many +ways; but she did none of these things. An indescribable longing seized +her to hear him say that he loved her. What could it matter? He was so +loyal and good that he could never be more than a friend. He was the +king of the world--had he not been honest and kind, he would have needed +no wooing to do as he pleased to do, utterly and entirely. A word from +his lips and the name of Zoroaster would be but the memory of a man +dead; and again a word, and Nehushta would be the king's wife! What need +had he of concealment, or of devious ways? He was the king of the earth, +whose shadow was life and death, whose slightest wish was a law to be +enforced by hundreds of thousands of warriors! There was nothing between +him and his desires--nothing but that inborn justice and truth, in which +he so royally believed. Nehushta felt that she could trust him, and she +longed--out of mere curiosity, she thought--to hear him speak words of +love to her. It would only be for a moment--they would be so soon +spoken; and at her desire, he would surely not speak them again. It +seemed so sweet, she knew not why, to make this giant of despotic power +do as she pleased; to feel that she could check him, or let him +speak--him whom all obeyed and feared, as they feared death itself. + +She looked up quietly, as she answered: + +"How can it be either bad or foolish of you to make others so happy?" + +"It seems as though it could be neither--and yet, all my reason tells me +it is both," replied the king earnestly. "Here I sit beside you, day +after day, deceiving myself with the thought that I am making your time +pass pleasantly till--" + +"There is not any deception in that," interrupted Nehushta gently. +Somehow she did not wish him to pronounce Zoroaster's name. "I can never +tell you how grateful I am--" + +"It is I who am grateful," interrupted the king in his turn. "It is I +who am grateful that I am allowed to be daily with you, and that you +speak with me, and seem glad when I come--" He hesitated and stopped. + +"What is there that is bad and foolish in that?" asked Nehushta, with a +sudden smile, as she looked up into his face. + +"There is more than I like to think," answered the king. "You say the +time passes pleasantly for you. Do you think it is less pleasant for +me?" His voice sank to a deep, soft tone, as he continued: "I sit here +day after day, and day after day I love you more and more. I love +you--where is the use of concealing that--if I could conceal it? You +know it. Perhaps you pity me, for you do not love me. You pity me who +hold the whole earth under my feet as an Egyptian juggler stands upon a +ball, and rolls it whither he will." He ceased suddenly. + +"Indeed I would that you did not love me," said Nehushta very gravely. +She looked down. The pleasure of hearing the king's words was indeed +exquisite, and she feared that her eyes might betray her. But she did +not love him. She wondered what he would say next. + +"You might as well wish that dry pastures should not burn when the sun +shines on them, and there is no rain," he answered with a passing +bitterness. "It is at least a satisfaction that my love does not harm +you--that you are willing to have me for your friend--" + +"Willing! Your friendship is almost the sweetest thing I know," +exclaimed the princess. The king's eyes flashed darkly. + +"Almost! Yes, truly--my friendship and another man's love are the +sweetest things! What would my friendship be without his love? By +Auramazda and the six Amshaspands of Heaven, I would it were my love and +his friendship! I would that Zoroaster were the king, and I Zoroaster, +the king's servant! I would give all Persia and Media, Babylon and +Egypt, and all the uttermost parts of my kingdom, to hear your sweet +voice say: 'Darius, I love thee!' I would give my right hand, I would +give my heart from my breast and my soul from my body--my life and my +strength, and my glory and my kingdom would I give to hear you say: +'Come, my beloved, and put thine arms about me!' Ah, child! you know not +what my love is--how it is higher than the heavens in worshipping you, +and broader than the earth to be filled with you, and deeper than the +depths of the sea, to change not, but to abide for you always." + +The king's voice was strong, and the power of his words found wings in +it, and seemed to fly forth irresistibly with a message that demanded an +answer. Nehushta regretted within herself that she had let him +speak--but for all the world she could not have given up the possession +of the words he had spoken. She covered her eyes with one hand and +remained silent--for she could say nothing. A new emotion had got +possession of her, and seemed to close her lips. + +"You are silent," continued the king. "You are right. What should you +answer me? My voice sounds like the raving of a madman, chained by a +chain that he cannot break. If I had the strength of the mountains, I +could not move you. I know it. All things I have but this--this love of +yours that you have given to another. I would I had it! I should have +the strength to surpass the deeds of men, had I your love! Who is this +whom you love? A captain? A warrior? I tell you because you have so +honoured him, so raised him upon the throne of your heart, I will honour +him too, and I will raise him above all men, and all the nation shall +bow before him. I will make a decree that he shall be worshipped as a +god--this man whom you have made a god of by your love. I will build a +great temple for you two, and I will go up with all the people, and fall +down and bow before you, and worship you, and love you with every sinew +and bone of my body, and with every hope and joy and sorrow of my soul. +He whom you love shall ask, and whatsoever he asks I will give to him +and to you. There shall not be anything left in the whole world that you +desire, but I will give it to you. Am I not the king of the whole +earth--the king of all living things but you?" + +Darius breathed savagely hard through his clenched teeth, and rising +suddenly, paced the pavement between Nehushta and the fountain. She was +silent still, overcome with a sort of terror at his words--words, every +one of which he was able to fulfil, if he so chose. Presently he stood +still before her. + +"Said I not well, that I rave as a madman--that I speak as a fool +without understanding? What can I give you that you want? Or what thing +can I devise that you have need of? Have you not all that the world +holds for mortal woman and living man? Do you not love, and are you not +loved in return? Have you not all--all--all? Ah! woe is me that I am +lord over the nations, and have not a drop of the waters of peace +wherewith to quench the thirst of my tormented soul! Woe is me that I +rule the world and trample the whole earth beneath my feet, and cannot +have the one thing that all the earth holds which is good! Woe is me, +Nehushta, that you have cruelly stolen my peace from me, and I find it +not--nor shall find it for evermore!" + +The strong dark man stood wringing his hands together; his face was pale +as the dead, his black eyes were blazing with a mad fire. Nehushta dared +not look on the tempest she had roused, but she trembled and clasped her +hands to her breast and looked down. + +"Nay, you are right," he cried bitterly. "Answer me nothing, for you can +have nothing to answer! Is it your fault that I am mad? Or is it your +doing that I love you so? Has any one sinned in this? I have seen you--I +saw you for a brief moment standing in the door of your tent--and +seeing, I loved you, and love you, and shall love you till the heavens +are rolled together and the scroll of all death is full! There is +nothing, nothing that you can say or do. It is not your fault--it is not +your sin; but it is by you and through you that I am undone,--broken as +the tree in the storm of the mountains, burned up and parched as the +beast perishing in the sun of the desert for lack of water, torn asunder +and rent into pieces as the rope that breaks at the well! By you, and +for you, and through you, I am ruined and lost--lost--lost for ever in +the hell of my wretched greatness, in the immeasurable death of my own +horrible despair!" + +With a wild movement of agony, Darius fell at Nehushta's feet, prostrate +upon the marble floor, and buried his face in the skirts of her mantle, +utterly over-mastered and broken down by the tumult of his passion. + +Nehushta was not heartless. Of a certainty she would have pitied any one +in such distress and grief, even had the cause thereof come less near to +herself. But, in all the sudden emotion she felt, the pity, the fear, +and the self-reproach, there was joined a vague feeling that no man ever +spoke as this man, that no lover ever poured forth such abundant love +before, and in the dim suspicion of something greater than she had ever +known, her fear and her pity grew stronger, and strove with each other. + +At first she could not speak, but she put forth her delicate hand and +laid it tenderly on the king's thick black hair, as gently as a mother +might soothe a passionate child; and he suffered it to rest there. And +presently she raised his head and laid it in her lap, and smoothed his +forehead with her soft fingers, and spoke to him. + +"You make me very sad," she almost whispered. "I would that you might be +loved as you deserve love--that one more worthy than I might give you +all I cannot give." + +He opened his dark eyes that were now dull and weary, and he looked up +to her face. + +"There is none more worthy than you," he answered in low and broken +tones. + +"Hush," she said gently, "there are many. Will you forgive me--and +forget me? Will you blot out this hour from your remembrance, and go +forth and do those great and noble deeds which you came into the world +to perform? There is none greater than you, none nobler, none more +generous." + +Darius lifted his head from her knee, and sprang to his feet. + +"I will do all things, but I will not forget," he said. "I will do the +great and the good deeds,--for you. I will be generous, for you; noble, +for you; while the world lasts my deeds shall endure; and with them, the +memory that they were done for you! Grant me only one little thing." + +"Ask anything--everything," answered Nehushta, in troubled tones. + +"Nehushta, you know how truly I love you--nay, I will not be mad again; +fear not! Tell me this--tell me that if you had not loved Zoroaster, you +would have loved me." + +Nehushta blushed deeply and then turned pale. She rose to her feet, and +took the king's outstretched hands. + +"Indeed, indeed, you are most worthy of love--Darius, I could have loved +you well." Her voice was very low, and the tears stood in her eyes. + +"The grace of the All-Wise God bless thee!" cried the king, and it was +as though a sudden bright light shone upon his face. Then he kissed her +two hands fervently, and with one long look into her sorrowful eyes, he +turned and left her. + +But no man saw the king that day, nor did any know where he was, saving +the two spearmen who stood at the door of his chamber. Within, he lay +upon his couch, dry-eyed and stark, staring at the painted carvings of +the ceiling. + + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + + +The time passed, and it was eleven days since Zoroaster had set out. The +king and Nehushta had continued to meet in the garden as before, and +neither had ever referred to the day when the torrent of his heart had +been suddenly let loose. The hours sped quietly and swiftly, without any +event of importance. Only the strange bond, half friendship and half +love, had grown stronger than before; and Nehushta wondered how it was +that she could love two men so well, and yet so differently. Indeed they +were very different men. She loved Zoroaster, and yet it sometimes +seemed as though he would more properly have filled the place of a +friend than of a lover. Darius she had accepted as her friend, but there +were moments when she almost forgot that he was not something more. She +tried to think of her meeting with Zoroaster, whether it would be like +former meetings,--whether her heart would beat more strongly, or not +beat at all when her lips touched his as of old. Her judgment was +utterly disturbed and her heart no longer knew itself. She gave herself +over to the pleasure of the king's society in the abandonment of the +moment, half foreseeing that some great change was at hand, over which +she could exercise no control. + +The sun was just risen, but the bridge over the quickly flowing Choaspes +was still in the shadow cast over the plain by the fortress and the +palace, when two horsemen appeared upon the road from Nineveh, riding +at full gallop, and, emerging from the blue mist that still lay over the +meadows, crossed the bridge and continued at full speed towards the +ascent to the palace. + +The one rider was a dark, ill-favoured man, whose pale flaccid cheeks +and drooping form betrayed the utmost fatigue. A bolster was bound +across the withers of his horse and another on the croup, so that he sat +as in a sort of chair, but he seemed hardly able to support himself even +with this artificial assistance, and his body swayed from side to side +as his horse bounded over the sharp curve at the foot of the hill. His +mantle was white with dust, and the tiara upon his head was reduced to a +shapeless and dusty piece of crumpled linen, while his uncurled hair and +tangled beard hung forward together in disorderly and dust-clotted +ringlets. + +His companion was Zoroaster, fair and erect upon his horse, as though he +had not ridden three hundred farsangs in eleven days. There was dust +indeed upon his mantle and garments, as upon those of the man he +conducted, but his long fair hair and beard blew back from his face as +he held his head erect to the breeze he made in riding, and the light +steel cap was bright and burnished on his forehead. A slight flush +reddened his pale cheeks as he looked upward to the palace, and thought +that his ride was over and his errand accomplished. He was weary, almost +to death; but his frame was elastic and erect still. + +As they rode up the steep, the guards at the outer gate, who had already +watched them for twenty minutes as they came up the road, mere moving +specks under the white mist, shouted to those within that Zoroaster was +returning, and the officer of the gate went at once to announce his +coming to the king. Darius himself received the message, and followed +the officer down the steps to the tower of the gateway, reaching the +open space within, just as the two riders galloped under the square +entrance and drew rein upon the pavement of the little court. The +spearmen sprang to their feet and filed into rank as the cry came down +the steps that the king was approaching, and Zoroaster leaped lightly +from his horse, and bid Phraortes do likewise; but the wretched Median +could scarce move hand or foot without help, and would have fallen +headlong, had not two stout spearmen lifted him to the ground, and held +him upon his legs. + +Darius marched quickly up to the pair and stood still, while Zoroaster +made his brief salutation. Phraortes, who between deadly fatigue and +deadly fear of his life, had no strength left in him, fell forward upon +his knees as the two soldiers relaxed their hold upon his arms. + +"Hail, king of kings! Live for ever!" said Zoroaster. "I have fulfilled +thy bidding. He is alive." + +Darius laughed grimly as he eyed the prostrate figure of the Median. + +"Thou art a faithful servant, Zoroaster," he answered, "and thou ridest +as the furies that pursue the souls of the wicked--as the devils of the +mountains after a liar. He would not have lasted much farther, this +bundle of sweating dust. Get up, fellow!" he said, touching Phraortes's +head with his toe. "Thou liest grovelling there like a swine in a +ditch." + +The soldiers raised the exhausted man to his feet. The king turned to +Zoroaster. + +"Tell me, thou rider of whirlwinds," he said, laughing, "will a man more +readily tell the truth, or speak lies, when he is tired?" + +"A man who is tired will do whichever will procure him rest," returned +Zoroaster, with a smile. + +"Then I will tell this fellow that the sooner he speaks the truth the +sooner he may sleep," said the king. Going near to Zoroaster, he added +in an undertone: "Before thou thyself restest, go and tell the queen +privately that she send away her slaves, and await me and him thou hast +brought in a few minutes. This fellow must have a little refreshment, or +he will die upon the steps." + +Zoroaster turned and went up the broad stairs, and threaded the courts +and passages, and mounted to the terrace where he had first met Atossa +before the king's apartments. There was no one there, and he was about +to enter under the great curtain, when the queen herself came out and +met him face to face. Though it was yet very early, she was attired with +more than usual care, and the faint colours of her dress and the few +ornaments she wore, shone and gleamed brightly in the level beams of the +morning sun. She had guessed that Zoroaster would return that day, and +she was prepared for him. + +As she came suddenly upon him, she gave a little cry, that might well +have been feigned. + +"What! Are you already returned?" she asked, and the joy her voice +expressed was genuine. He looked so godlike as he stood there in the +sunlight--her heart leaped for joy of only seeing him. + +"Yes--I bear this message from the Great King to the queen. The Great +King commands that the queen send away her slaves, and await the king +and him I have brought with me, in the space of a few minutes." + +"It is well," answered Atossa, "There are no slaves here and I await the +king." She was silent a moment. "Are you not glad to have come back?" +she asked, presently. + +"Yes," said Zoroaster, whose face brightened quickly as he spoke. "I am +indeed glad to be here again. Would not any one be glad to have finished +such a journey?" + +The queen stood with her back to the curtained doorway and could see +down the whole length of the balcony to the head of the staircase. +Zoroaster faced her and the door. As he spoke, Atossa's quick eyes +caught sight of a figure coming quickly up the last steps of the +stairway. She recognised Nehushta instantly, but no trembling of her +lids or colouring of her cheek, betrayed that she had seen the approach +of her enemy. She fixed her deep-blue eyes upon Zoroaster's, and gazing +somewhat sadly, she spoke in low and gentle tones: + +"The time has seemed long to me since you rode away, Zoroaster," she +said. + +Zoroaster, astonished at the manner in which she spoke, turned pale, and +looked down coldly at her beautiful face. At that moment Nehushta +stepped upon the smooth marble pavement of the balcony. + +Still Atossa kept her eyes fixed on Zoroaster's. + +"You answer me nothing?" she said in broken tones. Then suddenly, as +though acting under an irresistible impulse, she threw her arms wildly +about his neck and kissed him passionately again and again. + +"Oh Zoroaster, Zoroaster, my beloved!" she cried, "you must never, never +leave me again!" And again she kissed him, and fell forward upon his +breast, holding him so tightly that, for a moment, he did not know which +way to move. He put his hands upon her shoulders, to her waist--to try +to push her from him. But it was in vain; she clung to him desperately +and sobbed upon his breast. + +In the sudden and fearful embarrassment in which he was placed, he did +not hear a short, low groan far off behind him, nor the sound of quickly +retreating steps upon the stairs. But Atossa heard and rejoiced +fiercely; and when she looked up, Nehushta was gone, with the incurable +wound in her breast. + +Atossa suddenly let her arms fall from the warrior's neck, looked into +his eyes once, and then, with a short, sharp cry, she buried her face in +her hands and leaned back against the door-post by the heavy striped +curtain. + +"Oh, my God! What have I done?" she moaned. + +Zoroaster stood for one moment in hesitation and doubt. It seemed as +though he had received a sudden revelation of numberless things he had +never understood. He spoke quietly, at last, with a great effort, and +his voice sounded kindly. + +"I thank the good powers that I do not love thee--and I would that thou +didst not love me. For I am the Great King's servant, faithful to +death--and if I loved thee I should be a liar, and a coward, and the +basest of all mankind. Forget, I pray thee, that thou hast spoken, and +let me depart in peace. For the Great King is at hand, and thou must not +suffer that he find thee weeping, lest he think thou fearest to meet +Phraortes the Median face to face. Forget, I pray thee--and forgive thy +servant if he have done anything amiss." + +Atossa looked up suddenly. Her eyes were bright and clear, and there was +not a trace of tears in them. She laughed harshly. + +"I--weep before the king! You do not know me. Go, if thou wilt. +Farewell, Zoroaster,"--her voice softened a little,--"farewell. It may +be that you shall live, but it may be that you shall die, because I love +you." + +Zoroaster bent his head in respectful homage, and turned and went his +way. The queen looked after him, and as he disappeared upon the +staircase, she began to smooth her head-dress and the locks of her +golden hair, and for a moment, she smiled sweetly to herself. + +"That was a mortal wound, well dealt," she said aloud. But as she gazed +out over the city, her face grew grave and thoughtful. "But I do love +him," she added softly, "I do--I do--I loved him long ago." She turned +quickly, as though fearing some one had overheard her. "How foolish I +am!" she exclaimed impatiently; and she turned and passed away under the +heavy curtain, leaving the long balcony once more empty,--save for the +rush of a swallow that now and then flew in between the pillars, and +hovered for a moment high up by the cornice, and sped out again into the +golden sunshine of the summer morning. + +Zoroaster left Atossa with the hope of finding some means of seeing +Nehushta. But it was impossible. He knew well that he could not so far +presume as to go to her apartment by the lower passage where he had last +seen her on the day of his departure for Ecbatana, and the slave whom he +despatched from the main entrance of the women's part of the palace +returned with the brief information that Nehushta was alone in her +chamber, and that no one dared disturb her. + +Worn out with fatigue and excitement, and scarcely able to think +connectedly upon the strange event of the morning, Zoroaster wearily +resigned himself to seeing Nehushta at a later hour, and entering his +own cool chamber, lay down to rest. It was evening when he awoke. + +Meanwhile the king commanded that Phraortes should be fed and refreshed, +and immediately brought to the queen's apartment. Half an hour after +Zoroaster had left her, Atossa was in the chamber which was devoted to +her toilet. She sat alone before her great silver mirror, calmly +awaiting the turn of events. Some instinct had told her that she would +feel stronger to resist an attack in the sanctuary of her small inner +room, where every object was impregnated with her atmosphere, and where +the lattices of the two windows were so disposed that she would be able +to see the expression of her adversaries without exposing her own face +to the light. + +She leaned forward and looked closely at herself in the glass, and with +a delicate brush of camel's hair smoothed one eyebrow that was a little +ruffled. It had touched Zoroaster's tunic when she threw herself upon +his breast; she looked at herself with a genuine artistic pleasure, and +smiled. + +Before long she heard the sound of leathern shoes upon the pavement +outside, and the curtain was suddenly lifted. Darius pushed Phraortes +into the room by the shoulders and made him stand before the queen. She +rose and made a salutation, and then sat down again in her carved chair. +The king threw himself upon a heap of thick, hard cushions that formed a +divan on one side of the room, and prepared to watch attentively the two +persons before him. + +Phraortes, trembling with fear and excessive fatigue, fell upon his +knees before Atossa, and touched the floor with his forehead. + +"Get upon thy feet, man," said the king shortly, "and render an account +of the queen's affairs." + +"Stay," said Atossa, calmly; "for what purpose has the Great King +brought this man before me?" + +"For my pleasure," answered Darius. "Speak fellow! Render thy account, +and if I like not the manner of thy counting, I will crucify thee." + +"The king liveth for ever," said Phraortes feebly, his flaccid cheeks +trembling, as his limbs moved uneasily. + +"The queen also liveth for ever," remarked Darius. "What is the state +of the queen's lands at Ecbatana?" + +At this question Phraortes seemed to take courage, and began a rapid +enumeration of the goods, cattle and slaves. + +"This year I have sown two thousand acres of wheat which will soon be +ripe for the harvest. I have sown also a thousand acres with other +grain. The fields of water-melons are yielding with amazing abundance +since I caused the great ditches to be dug last winter towards the road. +As for the fruit trees and the vinelands, they are prospering; but at +present we have not had rain to push the first budding of the grapes. +The olives will doubtless be very abundant this year, for last year +there were few, as is the manner with that fruit. As for the yielding of +these harvests of grain and wine and oil and fruit, I doubt not that the +whole sales will amount to an hundred talents of gold." + +"Last year they only yielded eighty-five," remarked the queen, who had +affected to listen to the whole account with the greatest interest. "I +am well pleased, Phraortes. Tell me of the cattle and sheep--and of the +slaves; whether many have died this year." + +"There are five hundred head of cattle, and one hundred calves dropped +in the last two months. From the scarcity of rain this year, the fodder +has been almost destroyed, and there is little hay from the winter. I +have, therefore, sent great numbers of slaves with camels to the farther +plains to eastward, whence they return daily with great loads of hay--of +a coarse kind, but serviceable. As for the flocks, they are now +pasturing for the summer upon the slopes of the Zagros mountains. There +were six thousand head of sheep and two thousand head of goats at the +shearing in the spring, and the wool is already sold for eight talents. +As for the slaves, I have provided for them after a new fashion. There +were many young men from the captives that came after the war two years +ago. For these I have purchased wives of the dealers from Scythia. These +Scythians sell all their women at a low price. They are hideous +barbarians, speaking a strange tongue, but they are very strong and +enduring, and I doubt not they will multiply exceedingly and bring large +profits--" + +"Thou art extraordinarily fluent in thy speech," interrupted the king. +"But there are details that the queen wishes to know. Thou art aware +that in a frontier country like the province of Ecbatana, it is often +necessary to protect the crops and the flocks from robbers. Hast thou +therefore thought of arming any of these slaves for this purpose?" + +"Let not the king be angry with his servant," returned Phraortes, +without hesitation. "There are many thousand soldiers of the king in +Echatana, and the horsemen traverse the country continually. I have not +armed any of the slaves, for I supposed we were safe in the protection +of the king's men. Nevertheless, if the Great King command me--" + +"Thou couldst arm them immediately, I suppose?" interrupted Darius. He +watched Atossa narrowly; her face was in the shadow. + +"Nay," replied Phraortes, "for we have no arms. But if the king will +give us swords and spearheads--" + +"To what end?" asked Atossa. She was perfectly calm since she saw that +there was no fear of Phraortes making a mistake upon this vital point. +"What need have I of a force to protect lands that are all within a +day's journey of the king's fortress? The idea of carrying weapons would +make all the slaves idle and quarrelsome. Leave them their spades and +their ploughs, and let them labour while the soldiers fight. How many +slaves have I now, Phraortes?" + +"There were, at the last return, fourteen thousand seven hundred and +fifty-three men, ten thousand two hundred and sixteen women, and not +less than five thousand children. But I expect--" + +"What can you do with so many?" asked Darius, turning sharply to the +queen. + +"Many of them work in the carpet-looms," answered Phraortes. "The queen +receives fifty talents yearly from the sales of the carpets." + +"All the carpets in the king's apartments are made in my looms," said +Atossa, with a smile. "I am a great merchant." + +"I have no doubt I paid you dearly enough for them, too," said the king, +who was beginning to be weary of the examination. He had firmly expected +that either the Median agent, or the queen herself, would betray some +emotion at the mention of arming the slaves, for he imagined that if +Atossa had really planned any outbreak, she would undoubtedly have +employed the large force of men she had at her disposal, by finding them +weapons and promising them their liberty in the event of success. + +He was disappointed at the appearance of the man Phraortes. He had +supposed him a strong, determined, man of imperious ways and turbulent +instincts, who could be easily led into revolution and sedition from the +side of his ambition. He saw before him the traditional cunning, +quick-witted merchant of Media, pale-faced and easily frightened; no +more capable of a daring stroke of usurpation than a Jewish pedlar of +Babylon. He was evidently a mere tool in the hands of the queen; and +Darius stamped impatiently upon the floor when he thought that he had +perhaps been deceived after all--that the queen had really written to +Phraortes simply on account of her property, and that there was no +revolution at all to be feared. Impulsive to the last degree, when the +king had read the letter to Phraortes, his first thought had been to see +the man for himself, to ask him a few questions and to put him at once +to death if he found him untruthful. The man had arrived, broken with +excessive fatigue and weak from the fearful journey; but under the very +eye of the king, he had nevertheless given a clear and concise account +of himself; and, though he betrayed considerable fear, he gave no reason +for supposing that what he said was not true. As for the queen, she sat +calmly by, polishing her nails with a small instrument of ivory, +occasionally asking a question, or making a remark, as though it were +all the most natural occurrence in the world. + +Darius was impetuous and fierce. His intuitive decisions were generally +right, and he acted upon them instantly, without hesitation; but he had +no cunning and little strategy. He was always for doing and never for +waiting; and to the extreme rapidity of his movements he owed the +success he had. In the first three years of his reign he fought nineteen +battles and vanquished nine self-styled kings; but he never, on any +occasion, detected a conspiracy, nor destroyed a revolution before it +had broken out openly. He was often, therefore, at the mercy of Atossa +and frequently found himself baffled by her power of concealing a subtle +lie under the letter of truth, and by her supreme indifference and +coldness of manner under the most trying circumstances. In his simple +judgment it was absolutely impossible for any one to lie directly +without betraying some hesitation, and each time he endeavoured to place +Atossa in some difficult position, when she must, he thought, inevitably +betray herself, he was met by her inexplicable calm; which he was forced +to attribute to the fact that she was in the right--no matter how the +evidence might be against her. + +The king decided that he had made a mistake in the present instance and +that Phraortes was innocent of any idea of revolution. He could not +conceive how such a man should be capable of executing a daring stroke +of policy. He determined to let him go. + +"You ought to be well satisfied with the result of these accounts," he +said, staring hard at Atossa. "You see you know more of your affairs, +and sooner, than you could have known if you had sent your letter. Let +this fellow go, and tell him to send his accounts regularly in future, +or he will have the pains of riding hither in haste to deliver them. +Thou mayest go now and take thy rest," he added, rising and pushing the +willing Phraortes before him out of the room. + +"Thou hast done well. I am satisfied with thee, Phraortes," said Atossa +coldly. + +Once more the beautiful queen was left alone, and once more she looked +at herself in the silver mirror, somewhat more critically than before. +It seemed to her as she gazed and turned first one side of her face to +the light and then the other, that she was a shade paler than usual. The +change would have been imperceptible to any one else, but she noticed it +with a little frown of disapproval. But presently she smoothed her brow +and smiled happily to herself. She had sustained a terrible danger +successfully. + +She had hoped to have been able to warn Phraortes how to act; but, +partly because the meeting had taken place so soon after his arrival, +and partly because she had employed a portion of that brief interval +with Zoroaster and in the scene she had suddenly invented and acted, she +had been obliged to meet her chief agent without a moment's preparation, +and she knew enough of his cowardly character to fear lest he should +betray her and throw himself upon the king's mercy as a reward for the +information he could give. But the crucial moment had passed +successfully and there was nothing more to fear. Atossa threw herself +upon the couch where the king had sat, and abandoned herself to the +delicious contemplation of the pain she must have given in showing +herself to Nehushta in Zoroaster's arms. She was sure that as the +princess could not have seen Zoroaster's face, she must have thought +that it was he who was embracing the queen. She must have suffered +horribly, if she really loved him! + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +When Darius left the queen, he gave over the miserable Phraortes to the +guards, to be cared for, and bent his steps towards the gardens. It was +yet early, but he wished to be alone, and he supposed that Nehushta +would come there before noon, as was her wont. Meanwhile, he wished to +be free of the court and of the queen. Slowly he entered the marble gate +and walked up the long walk of roses, plucking a leaf now and then, and +twisting it in his fingers, scenting the fresh blossoms with an almost +boyish gladness, and breathing in all the sweet warmth of the summer +morning. He had made a mistake, and he was glad to be away, where he +could calmly reflect upon the reason of his being deceived. + +He wandered on until he came to the marble pavilion, and would have gone +on to stray farther into the gardens, but that he caught sight of a +woman's mantle upon the floor as he passed by the open doorway. He went +up the few steps and entered. + +Nehushta lay upon the marble pavement at her full length, her arms +extended above her head. Her face was ghastly pale and her parted lips +were white. She looked as one dead. Her white linen tiara had almost +fallen from her heavy hair, and the long black locks streamed upon the +stone in thick confusion. Her fingers were tightly clenched, and on her +face was such an expression of agony, as Darius had never dreamed of, +nor seen in those dead in battle. + +The king started back in horror as he caught sight of the prostrate +figure. He thought she was dead--murdered, perhaps--until, as he gazed, +he saw a faint movement of breathing. Then he sprang forward, and +kneeled, and raised her head upon his knee, and chafed her temples and +her hands. He could reach the little fountain as he knelt, and he +gathered some water in his palm and sprinkled it upon her face. + +At last she opened her eyes--then closed them wearily again--then opened +them once more in quick astonishment, and recognised the king. She would +have made an effort to rise, but he checked her, and she let her head +sink back upon his knee. Still he chafed her temples with his broad, +brown hand, and gazed with anxious tenderness into her eyes, that looked +at him for a moment, and then wandered and then looked again. + +"What is this?" she asked, vacantly, at last. + +"I know not," answered the king. "I found you here--lying upon the +floor. Are you hurt?" he asked tenderly. + +"Hurt? No--yes, I am hurt--hurt even to death," she added suddenly. "Oh, +Darius, I would I could tell you! Are you really my friend?" + +She raised herself without his help and sat up. The hot blood rushed +back to her cheeks and her eyes regained their light. + +"Can you doubt that I am your friend, your best friend?" asked the king. + +Nehushta rose to her feet and paced the little hall in great emotion. +Her hands played nervously with the golden tassels of her mantle, her +head-dress had fallen quite back upon her shoulders, and the masses of +her hair were let loose. From time to time she glanced at the king, who +eyed her anxiously as he stood beside the fountain. + +Presently she stopped before him, and very gravely fixed her eyes on +him. + +"I will tell you something," she said, beginning in low tones. "I will +tell you this--I cannot tell you all. I have been horribly deceived, +betrayed, made a sport of. I cannot tell you how--you will believe me, +will you not? This man I loved--I love him not--has cast me off as an +old garment, as a thing of no price--as a shoe that is worn out and that +is not fit for his feet to tread upon. I love him not--I hate him--oh, I +love him not at all!" + +Darius's face grew dark and his teeth ground hard together, but he stood +still, awaiting what she should say. But Nehushta ceased, and suddenly +she began again to walk up and down, putting her hand to her temples, as +though in pain. Once more she paused, and, in her great emotion laid her +two hands upon the shoulder of the king, who trembled at her touch, as +though a strong man had struck him. + +"You said you loved me, once," said Nehushta, in short, nervous tones, +almost under her breath. "Do you love me still?" + +"Is it so long since I told you I loved you?" asked Darius, with a shade +of bitterness. "Ah! do not tempt me--do not stir my sickness. Love you? +Yea--as the earth loves the sun--as man never loved woman. Love you? Ay! +I love you, and I am the most miserable of men." He shook from head to +foot with strong emotion, and the stern lines of his face darkened as he +went on speaking. "Yet, though I love you so, I cannot harm him,--for my +great oath's sake I cannot--yet for you, almost I could. Ah Nehushta, +Nehushta!" he cried passionately, "tempt me not! Ask me not this, for +you can almost make a liar of the Great King if you will!" + +"I tempt you not," answered the princess. "I will not that you harm a +hair of his head. He is not worthy that you should lift the least of +your fingers to slay him. But this I tell you--" she hesitated. The king +in his violent excitement, as though foreseeing what she would say, +seized her hands and held them tightly while he gazed into her eyes. + +"Darius," she said, almost hurriedly, "if you love me, and if you desire +it, I will be your wife." + +A wild light broke from the king's eyes. He dropped her hands and +stepped backwards from her, staring hard. Then, with, a quick motion, he +turned and threw himself upon the marble seat that ran around the hall, +and buried his face and sobbed aloud. + +Nehushta seemed to regain some of her calmness, when once she had said +the fatal words. She went and knelt beside him and smoothed his brow and +wild, rough hair. The great tears stained his dark cheek. He raised +himself and looked at her and put one arm about her neck. + +"Nehushta," he whispered, "is it true?" + +She bowed her head silently. Darius drew her towards him and laid her +cheek upon his breast. His face bent down to hers, most tenderly, as +though he would have kissed her. But suddenly he drew back, and turned +his eyes away. + +"No," he said, as though he had regained the mastery over himself. "It +is too much to ask--that I might kiss you! It is too much--too +much--that you give me. I am not worthy that you should be my wife. +Nay!" he cried, as she would not let him rise from his seat. "Nay, let +me go, it is not right--it is not worthy--I must not see you any more. +Oh, you have tempted me till I am too weak--" + +"Darius, you are the noblest of men, the best and bravest." Then with a +sudden impulse it seemed to Nehushta that she really loved him. The +majestic strength of Zoroaster seemed cold and meaningless beside the +fervour of the brave young king, striving so hard to do right under the +sorest temptation, striving to leave her free, even against her will. +For the moment she loved him, as such women do, with a passionate +impulse. She put her arms about him and drew him down to her. + +"Darius, it is truth--I never loved you, but I love you now, for, of all +living men, you have the bravest heart." She pressed a kiss hotly upon +his forehead and her head sank upon his shoulder. For one moment the +king trembled, and then, as though all resistance were gone from him, +his arms went round her, locking with hers that held him, and he kissed +her passionately. + +When Zoroaster awoke from his long sleep it was night. He had dreamed +evil dreams, and he woke with a sense of some great disaster impending. +He heard unwonted sounds in the hall outside his chamber, and he sprang +to his feet and called one of the soldiers of his guard. + +"What is happening?" asked Zoroaster quickly. + +"The Great King, who lives for ever, has taken a new wife to-day," +answered the soldier, standing erect, but eyeing Zoroaster somewhat +curiously. Zoroaster's heart sank within him. + +"What? Who is she?" he asked, coming nearer to the man. + +"The new queen is Nehushta--the Hebrew princess," answered the spearman. +"There is a great banquet, and a feast for the guard, and much food and +wine for the slaves--" + +"It is well," answered Zoroaster. "Go thou, and feast with the rest." + +The man saluted, and left the room. Zoroaster remained standing alone, +his teeth chattering together and his strong limbs shaking beneath him. +But he abandoned himself to no frenzy of grief, nor weeping; one seeing +him would have said he was sick of a fever. His blue eyes stared hard at +the lamp-light and his face was white, but he did not so much as utter +an exclamation, nor give one groan. He went and sat down upon a chair +and folded his hands together, as though waiting for some event. But +nothing happened; no one came to disturb him in his solitude, though he +could hear the tramping feet and the unceasing talk of the slaves and +soldiers without. In the vast palace, where thousands dwelt, where all +were feasting or talking of the coming banquet, Zoroaster was utterly +alone. + +At last he rose, slowly, as though with an effort, and paced twice from +one end of the room to the other. Upon a low shelf on one side, his +garments were folded together, while his burnished cuirass and helmet +and other arms which he had not worn upon his rapid journey to Ecbatana, +hung upon nails in the wall above. He looked at all these things and +turned the clothes over piece by piece, till he had found a great dark +mantle and a black hood such as was worn in Media. These he put on, and +beneath the cloak he girded a broad, sharp knife about him. Then +wrapping himself closely round with the dark-coloured stuff and drawing +the hood over his eyes, he lifted the curtain of his door and went out, +without casting a look behind him. + +In the crowd of slaves he passed unnoticed; for the hall was but dimly +lighted by a few torches, and every one's attention was upon the doings +of the day and the coming feast. + +Zoroaster soon gathered from the words he heard spoken, that the banquet +had not yet begun, and he hastened to the columned porch through which +the royal party must pass on the way to the great hall which formed the +centre of the main building. Files of spearmen, in their bronze +breastplates and scarlet and blue mantles, lined the way, which was +strewn with yellow sand and myrtle leaves and roses. At every pillar +stood a huge bronze candlestick, in which a torch of wax and fir-gum +burned, and flared, and sent up a cloud of half pungent, half aromatic +smoke. Throngs of slaves and soldiers pressed close behind the lines of +spearmen, elbowing each other with loud jests and surly complaints, to +get a better place, a sea of moving, shouting, gesticulating humanity. +Zoroaster's great height and broad shoulders enabled him easily to push +to the front, and he stood there, disguised and unknown, peering between +the heads of two of his own soldiers to obtain the first view of the +procession as it came down the broad staircase at the end of the porch. + +Suddenly the blast of deep-toned trumpets was heard in the distance, and +silence fell upon the great multitude. With a rhythmic sway of warlike +tone the clangour rose and fell, and rose again as the trumpeters came +out upon the great staircase and began to descend. After them came other +musicians, whose softer instruments began to be heard in harmony with +the resounding bass of the horns, and then, behind them, came singers, +whose strong, high voices completed the full burst of music that went +before the king. + +With measured tread the procession advanced. There were neither priests, +nor sacrificers, nor any connected with any kind of temple; but after +the singers came two hundred noble children clad in white, bearing long +garlands of flowers that trailed upon the ground, so that many of the +blossoms were torn off and strewed the sand. + +But Zoroaster looked neither on the singers, nor on the children. His +eyes were fixed intently on the two figures that followed them--Darius, +the king, and Nehushta, the bride. They walked side by side, and the +procession left an open spaced ten paces before and ten paces behind +the royal pair. Darius wore the tunic of purple and white stripes, the +mantle of Tyrian purple on his shoulders and upon his head the royal +crown of gold surrounded the linen tiara; his left hand, bare and brown +and soldier-like, rested upon the golden hilt of his sword, and in his +right, as he walked, he carried a long golden rod surmounted by a ball, +twined with myrtle from end to end. He walked proudly forward, and as he +passed, many a spearman thought with pride that the Great King looked as +much a soldier as he himself. + +By his left side came Nehushta, clad entirely in cloth of gold, while a +mantle of the royal purple hung down behind her. Her white linen tiara +was bound round with myrtle and roses, and in her hands she bore a +myrtle bough. + +Her face was pale in the torchlight, but she seemed composed in manner, +and from time to time she glanced at the king with a look which was +certainly not one of aversion. + +Zoroaster felt himself growing as cold as ice as they approached, and +his teeth chattered in his head. His brain reeled with the smoke of the +torches, the powerful, moving tones of the music and the strangeness of +the whole sight. It seemed as though it could not be real. He fixed his +eyes upon Nehushta, but his face was shaded all around by his dark hood. +Nevertheless, so intently did he gaze upon her that, as she came near, +she felt his look, as it were, and, searching in the crowd behind the +soldiers, met his eyes. She must have known it was he, even under the +disguise that hid his features, for, though she walked calmly on, the +angry blood rushed to her face and brow, overspreading her features with +a sudden, dark flush. + +Just as she came up to where Zoroaster stood, he thrust his covered head +far out between the soldiers. His eyes gleamed like coals of blue fire +and his voice came low, with a cold, clear ring, like the blade of a +good sword striking upon a piece of iron. + +"Faithless!" + +That was all he said, but all around heard the cutting tone, that +neither the voices of the singers, nor the clangour of the trumpets +could drown. + +Nehushta drew herself up and paused for one moment, and turned upon the +dark-robed figure a look of such unutterable loathing and scorn as one +would not have deemed could be concentrated in a human face. Then she +passed on. + +The two spearmen turned quickly upon the man between them, who had +uttered the insult against the new queen, and laid hold of him roughly +by the shoulders. A moment more and his life would have been ended by +their swords. But his strong, white hands stole out like lightning, and +seized each soldier by the wrist, and twisted their arms so suddenly and +with such furious strength, that they cried aloud with pain and fell +headlong at his feet. The people parted for a space in awe and wonder, +and Zoroaster turned, with his dark mantle close drawn around him, and +strode out through the gaping crowd. + +"It is a devil of the mountains!" cried one. + +"It is Ahriman himself!" said another. + +"It is the soul of the priest of Bel whom the king slew at Babylon!" + +"It is the Evil Sprit of Cambyses!" + +"Nay," quoth one of the spearmen, rubbing his injured hand, "it was +Zoroaster, the captain. I saw his face beneath that hood he wore." + +"It may be," answered his fellow. "They say he can break a bar of iron, +as thick as a man's three fingers, with his hand. But I believe it was a +devil of the mountains." + +But the procession marched on, and long before the crowd had recovered +enough from its astonishment to give utterance to these surmises, +Zoroaster had passed out of the porch and back through the deserted +courts, and down the wide staircase to the palace gate, and out into the +quiet, starlit night, alone and on foot. + +He would have no compromise with his grief; he would be alone with it. +He needed not mortal sympathy and he would not have the pity of man. The +blow had struck home with deadly certainty and the wound was such as man +cannot heal, neither woman. The fabric of happiness, which in a year he +had built himself, was shattered to its foundation, and the fall of it +was fearful. The ruin of it reached over the whole dominion of his soul +and rent all the palace of his body. The temple that had stood so fair, +whither his heart had gone up to worship his beloved one, was destroyed +and utterly beaten to pieces; and the ruin of it was as a heap of dead +bones, so loathsome in decay, that the eyes of his spirit turned in +horror and disgust from the inward contemplation of so miserable a +sight. + +Alone and on foot, he went upon his dreary way, dry-eyed and calm. There +was nothing left of all his past life that he cared for. His armour hung +in his chamber in the palace and with it he left the Zoroaster he had +known--the strong, the young, the beautiful; the warrior, the lover, the +singer of sweet songs, the smiter of swift blows, the peerless horseman, +the matchless man. He who went out alone into the great night, was a +moving sorrow, a horror of grief made visible as a walking shadow among +things real, a man familiar already with death as with a friend, and +with the angel of death as with a lover. + +Alone--it was a beginning of satisfaction to be away from all the crowd +of known and unknown faces familiar to his life--but the end and +attainment of satisfaction could only come when he should be away from +himself, from the heavy body that wearied him, and from the heavier soul +that was crushed with itself as with a burden. For sorrow was his +companion from that day forth, and grief undying was his counsellor. + +Ah God! She was so beautiful and her love was so sweet and strong! Her +face had been as the face of an angel, and her virgin-heart as the +innermost leaves of the rose that are folded together in the bud before +the rising of the sun. Her kiss was as the breath of spring that +gladdens the earth into new life, her eyes as crystal wells, from the +depths whereof truth rose blushing to the golden light of day. Her lips +were so sweet that a man wondered how they could ever part, till, when +they parted, her gentle breath bore forth the music of her words, that +was sweeter than all created sounds. She was of all earthly women the +most beautiful--the very most lovely thing that God had made; and of all +mortal women that have loved, her love had been the purest, the +gentlest, the truest. There was never woman like to her, nor would be +again. + +And yet--scarce ten days had changed her, had so altered and disturbed +the pure elements of her wondrous nature that she had lied to herself +and lied to her lover the very lie of lies--for what? To wear a piece of +purple of a richer dye than other women wore, to bind her hair with a +bit of gold, to be called a queen--a queen forsooth! when she had been +from her birth up the sovereign queen of all created women! + +The very lie of lies! Was there ever such a monstrous lie since the +world first learned the untruths of the serpent's wisdom? Had she not +sworn and promised, by the holiness of her God, to love Zoroaster for +ever? For ever. O word, that had meant heaven, and now meant hell!--that +had meant joy without any end and peace and all love!--that meant now +only pain eternal, and sorrow, and gnawing torment of a wound that would +never heal! O Death, that yesterday would have seemed Life for her! O +Life, that to-day, by her, was made the Death of deaths! + +Emptiness of emptiness--the whole world one hollow cavern of +vanity--lifeless and lightless, where the ghosts of the sorrows of men +moan dismally, and the shadows of men's griefs scream out their wild +agony upon the ghastly darkness! Night, through which no dawn shall +ever gleam, fleet and fair, to touch with rosy fingers the eyes of a +dead world and give them sight! Winter, of unearthly cold, that through +all the revolving ages of untiring time, shall never see the face of +another spring, nor feel its icy veins thawing with the pulses of a +forgotten life, quickened from within with the thrilling hope of a new +and glorious birth! + +Far out upon the southern plain Zoroaster lay upon the dew-wet ground +and gazed up into the measureless depths of heaven, where the stars +shone out like myriads of jewels set in the dark mantle of night! + +Gradually, as he lay, the tempest of his heart subsided, and the calm of +the vast solitude descended upon him, even as the dew had descended upon +the earth. His temples ceased to throb with the wild pulse that sent +lightnings through his brain at every beat, and from the intensity of +his sorrow, his soul seemed to float upwards to those cool depths of the +outer firmament where no sorrow is. His eyes grew glassy and fixed, and +his body rigid in the night-dews; and his spirit, soaring beyond the +power of earthly forces to weigh down its flight, rose to that lofty +sphere where the morning and the evening are but one eternal day, where +the mighty unison of the heavenly chorus sends up its grand plain-chant +to God Most High. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +Far in the wild mountains of the south, where a primeval race of +shepherds pastures its flocks of shaggy goats upon the scanty vegetation +of rocky slopes, there is a deep gorge whither men seldom penetrate, and +where the rays of the sun fall but for a short hour at noonday. A man +may walk, or rather climb, along the side of the little stream that +rushes impetuously down among the black rocks, for a full hour and a +half before he reaches the end of the narrow valley. Then he will come +upon a sunken place, like a great natural amphitheatre, the steep walls +of boulders rising on all sides to a lofty circle of dark crags. In the +midst of this open space a spring rises suddenly from beneath a mass of +black stone, with a rushing, gurgling sound, and makes a broad pool, +whence the waters flow down in a little torrent through the gorge till +they emerge far below into the fertile plain and empty themselves into +the Araxes, which flows by the towers and palaces of lordly Stakhar, +more than two days' journey from the hidden circle in the mountains. + +It would have been a hard thing to recognise Zoroaster in the man who +sat day after day beside the spring, absorbed in profound meditation. +His tall figure was wasted almost to emaciation by fasting and exposure; +his hair and beard had turned snow-white, and hung down in abundant +masses to his waist, and his fair young face was pale and transparent. +But in his deep blue eyes there was a light different from the light of +other days--the strange calm fire of a sight that looks on wondrous +things, and sees what the eyes of men may not see, and live. + +Nearly three years had passed since he went forth from the palace of +Shushan, to wander southwards in search of a resting-place, and he was +but three-and-thirty years of age. But between him and the past there +was a great gulf--the interval between the man and the prophet, between +the cares of mortality and the divine calm of the higher life. + +From time to time indeed, he ascended the steep path he had made among +the stones and rocks, to the summit of the mountain; and there he met +one of the shepherds of the hills, who brought him once every month a +bag of parched grain and a few small, hard cheeses of goats' milk; and +in return for these scanty provisions, he gave the man each time a link +from the golden chain he had worn and which was still about his neck +when he left the palace. Three-and-thirty links were gone since he had +come there, and the chain was shorter by more than half its length. It +would last until the thousand days were accomplished, and there would +still be much left. Auramazda, the All-Wise, would provide. + +Zoroaster sat by the spring and watched the crystal waters sparkle in +the brief hour of sunshine at noonday, and turn dark and deep again when +the light was gone. He moved not through the long hours of day, sitting +as he had sat in that place now for three years neither scorched by the +short hours of sunlight, nor chilled by winter's frost and snow. The +wild long-haired sheep of the mountain came down to drink at noon, and +timidly gazed with their stupid eyes at the immovable figure; and at +evening the long-bodied, fierce-eyed wolves would steal stealthily among +the rocks and come and snuff the ground about his feet, presently +raising their pointed heads with a long howl of fear, and galloping away +through the dusk in terror, as though at something unearthly. + +And when at last the night was come, Zoroaster arose and went to the +spot where the rocks, overhanging together, left a space through which +one might enter; and the white-haired man gave one long look at the +stars overhead, and disappeared within. + +There was a vast cave, the roof reaching high up in a great vault; the +sides black and polished, as though smoothed by the hands of cunning +workmen; the floor a bed of soft, black sand, dry and even as the +untrodden desert. In the midst, a boulder of black rock lay like a huge +ball, and upon its summit burned a fire that was never quenched, and +that needed no replenishing with fuel. The tall pointed flame shed a +strangely white light around, that flashed and sparkled upon the smooth +black walls of the cavern, as though they were mirrors. The flame also +was immovable; it neither flickered, nor rose, nor fell; but stood as it +were a spear-head of incandescent gold upon the centre of the dark +altar. There was no smoke from that strange fire, nor any heat near it, +as from other fires. + +Then Zoroaster bent and put forth his forefinger and traced a figure +upon the sand, which was like a circle, save that it was cut from +north-west to south-east by two straight lines; and from north-east to +south-west by two straight lines; and at each of the four small arcs, +where the straight lines cut the circumference of the great circle, a +part of a smaller circle outside the great one united the points over +each other. And upon the east side, toward the altar, the great circle +was not joined, but open for a short distance.[5] + + [Footnote 5: The Mazdayashnian Dakhma, or place of death. This + figure represents the ground-plan of the modern Parsi Tower of + Silence.] + +When the figure was traced, Zoroaster came out from it and touched the +black rock whereon the fire burned; and then he turned back and entered +the circle, and with his fingers joined it where it was open on the east +side through which he had entered. And immediately, as the circle was +completed, there sprung up over the whole line he had traced a soft +light; like that of the fire, but less strong. Then Zoroaster lay down +upon his back, with his feet to the west and his head toward the altar, +and he folded his hands upon his breast and closed his eyes. As he lay, +his body became rigid and his face as the face of the dead; and his +spirit was loosed in the trance and freed from the bonds of earth, while +his limbs rested. + +Lying there, separated from the world, cut off within the circle of a +symbolised death by the light of the universal agent,[6] Zoroaster +dreamed dreams and saw visions. + + [Footnote 6: The term "universal agent" has been used in the + mysticism of ages, to designate that subtle and all-pervading + fluid, of which the phenomena of light, heat, electricity and + vitality are considered to be but the grosser and more palpable + manifestations.] + +His mind was first opened to the understanding of those broader +conceptions of space and time of which he had read in the books of +Daniel, his master. He had understood the principles then, but he had +not realised their truth. He was too intimately connected with the life +around him, to be able to see in the clearer light which penetrates with +universal truth all the base forms of perishable matter. + +Daniel had taught him the first great principles. All men, in their +ignorance, speak of the infinities of space and time as being those +ideas which man cannot of himself grasp or understand. Man, they say, is +limited in capacity; he can, therefore, not comprehend the infinite. A +greater fault than this could not be committed by a thinking being. For +infinity being unending, it is incapable of being limited; it rejects +definition, which belongs, by its nature, to finite things. For +definition means the placing of bounds, and that which is infinite can +have no bounds. The man, therefore, who seeks to bound what has no +bounds, endeavours to define what is, by its nature, undefinable; and +finding that the one poor means which he has of conveying fallacious +impressions of illusory things to his mind through his deadened senses, +is utterly insufficient to give him an idea of what alone is real, he +takes refuge in his crass ignorance and coarse grossness of language, +and asserts boldly that the human mind is too limited in its nature to +conceive of infinite space, or of infinite time. + +Not only is the untrammelled mind of man capable of these bolder +conceptions, but even the wretched fool who sees in the material world +the whole of what man can know, could never get so far as to think even +of the delusive objects on which he pins his foolish faith, unless the +very mind which he insults and misunderstands, had by its nature that +infinite capacity of comprehension which, he says, exists not. For +otherwise, if the mind be limited, there must be a definite limit to its +comprehensive faculty, and it is easy to conceive that such a limit +would soon become apparent to every student; as apparent as it is that a +being, confined within three dimensions of space, cannot, without +altering his nature, escape from these three dimensions, nor from the +laws which govern matter having length, breadth and thickness alone, +without the external fourth dimension, with its interchangeability of +exterior and interior angles. + +The very thought that infinite space cannot be understood, is itself a +proof that the mind unconsciously realises the precise nature of such +infinity, in attributing to it at once the all-comprehensiveness from +which there is no escape, in which all dimensions exist, and by virtue +of which all other conceptions become possible; since this infinite +space contains in itself all dimensions of existence--transitory, real +and potential; and if the capacity of the mind is co-extensive with the +capacity of infinite space, since it feels itself undoubtedly capable of +grasping any limited idea contained in any portion of the illimitable +whole, it follows that the mind is of itself as infinite as the space in +which all created things have their transitory form of being, and in +which all uncreated truths exist eternally. The mind is aware of +infinity by that true sort of knowledge which is an intimate conviction +not dependent upon the operation of the senses. + +Gradually, too, as Zoroaster fixed his intuition upon the first main +principle of all possible knowledge, he became aware of the chief +cause--of the universal principal of vivifying essence, which pervades +all things, and in which arises motion as the original generator of +transitory being. The great law of division became clear to him--the +separation for a time of the universal agent into two parts, by the +separation and reuniting of which comes light and heat and the hidden +force of life, and the prime rules of attractive action; all things that +are accounted material. He saw the division of darkness and light, and +how all things that are in the darkness are reflected in the light; and +how the light which we call light is in reality darkness made visible, +whereas the true light is not visible to the eyes that are darkened by +the gross veil of transitory being. And as from the night of earth, his +eyes were gradually opened to the astral day, he knew that the forms +that move and have being in the night are perishable and utterly unreal; +whereas the purer being which is reflected in the real light is true and +endures for ever. + +Then, by his knowledge and power, and by the light that was in him, he +divided the portion of the universal agent that was in the cave where he +dwelt into two portions, and caused them to reunite in the midst upon +the stone that was there; and the flame burned silently and without heat +upon his altar, day and night, without intermission; and by the division +of the power within him, he could divide the power also that was latent +in other transitory beings, according to those laws which, being +eternal, are manifested in things not eternal, but perishable. + +And further, he meditated upon the seven parts of man, and upon their +separation, and upon the difference of their nature. + +For the first element of man is perishable matter. + +And the second element of man is the portion of the universal agent +which gives him life. + +And the third element of man is the reflection of his perishable +substance in the astral light, coincident with him, but not visible to +his earthly eye. + +The fourth element of man is made up of all the desires he feels by his +material senses. This part is not real being, nor transitory being, but +a result. + +The fifth element of man is that which says: "I am," whereby a man knows +himself from other men; and with it there is an intelligence of lower +things, but no intelligence of things higher. + +The sixth element is the pure understanding, eternal and co-extensive +with all infinity of time and space--real, imperishable, invisible to +the eye of man. + +The seventh element is the soul from God. + +Upon these things Zoroaster meditated long, and as his perishable body +became weakened and emaciated with fasting and contemplation, he was +aware that, at times, the universal agent ceased to be decomposed and +recomposed in the nerves of his material part, so that his body became +as though dead, and with, it the fourth element which represents the +sense of mortal desires; and he himself, the three highest elements of +him,--his individuality, his intelligence and his soul,--became +separated for a time from all that weighed them down; and his mind's +eyes were opened, and he saw clearly in the astral light, with an +intuitive knowledge of true things, and false. + +And so, night after night, he lay upon the floor of his cavern, rigid +and immovable; his body protected from all outer harmful influences by +the circle of light he had acquired the power of producing. For though +there was no heat in the flame, no mortal breathing animal could so much +as touch it with the smallest part of his body without being instantly +destroyed as by lightning. And so he was protected from all harm in his +trances; and he left his body at will and returned to it, and it +breathed again, and was alive. + +So he saw into the past and into the present and into the future, and +his soul was purified beyond the purity of man, and soared upwards, and +dreamed of the eternal good and of the endless truth; and at last it +seemed to him that he should leave his body in its trance, and never +return to it, nor let it breathe again. For since it was possible thus +to cast off mortality and put on immortality, it seemed to him that it +was but a weariness to take up the flesh and wear it, when it was so +easy to lay it down. Almost he had determined that he would then let +death come, as it were unawares, upon his perishable substance, and +remain for ever in the new life he had found. + +But as his spirit thought in this wise, he heard a voice speaking to +him, and he listened. + +"One moment is as another, and there is no difference between one time +and another time." + +"One moment in eternity is of as great value as another moment, for +eternity changes not, neither is one part of it better than another +part." + +"Though man be immortal as to his soul, he is mortal as to his body, and +the time which his soul shall spend in his body is of as great worth to +him as the time which he shall spend without it." + +"Think not that by wilfully abandoning the body, even though you have +the power and the knowledge to do so, you will escape from the state in +which it has pleased God to put you." + +"Rather shall your pain and the time of your suffering be increased, +because you have not done with the body that which the body shall do." + +"The life of the soul while it is in the body, has as much value as when +it has left it. You shall not shorten the time of dwelling in the flesh." + +"Though you know all things, you know not God. For though you know your +body which is in the world, and the world which is in time, and time +which is in space, yet your knowledge goeth no farther, for space and +all that therein is, is in God.[7]" + + [Footnote 7: Hermes Trismegistus, _Poemandres_ xi. 2.] + +"You have learned earthly things and heavenly things. Learn then that +you shall not escape the laws of earth while you are on earth, nor the +laws of heaven when you are in heaven. Lift up your heart to God, but do +in the body those things which are of the body." + +"There are other men put into the world besides you. If you leave the +world, what does your knowledge profit other men? And yet it is to +profit other men that God has put you into the world." + +"And not you only, but every man. The labour of man is to man, and the +labour of angels to angels. But the time of man is as valuable in the +sight of God, as the time of angels." + +"All things that are not accomplished in their time shall be left +unaccomplished for ever and ever. If while you are in the flesh, you +accomplish not the things of the flesh after the manner of your +humanity, you shall enter into the life of the spirit as one blind, or +maimed; for your part is not fulfilled." + +"Wisdom is this. A man shall not care for the things of the world for +himself, and his soul shall be lifted and raised above all that is mean +and perishable; but he shall perform his part without murmuring. He +shall not forget the perishable things, though he soar to the +imperishable." + +"For man is to man as one portion of eternity to another; and as +eternity would be imperfect if one moment could be removed, so also the +earth would be imperfect if one man should be taken from it before his +appointed time." + +"If a man therefore take himself out of the world, he causes +imperfection, and sins against perfection, which is the law of God." + +"Though the world be in darkness, the darkness is necessary to the +light. Though the world perish, and heaven perish not for ever, yet is +the perishable necessary to the eternal." + +"For the transitory and the unchangeable exist alike in eternity and are +portions of it. And one moment is as another, and there is no difference +between one time and another time." + +"Go, therefore, and take up your body, and do with it the deeds of the +body among men; for you have deeds to do, and unless they are done in +their time, which is now, they will be unfulfilled for ever, and you +will become an imperfect spirit." + +"The imperfect spirit shall be finally destroyed, for nothing that is +imperfect shall endure. To be perfect all things must be fulfilled, all +deeds done, in the season while the spirit is in darkness with the body. +The deeds perish, and the body which doeth them, but the soul of the +perfect man is eternal, and the reflection of what he has done, abides +for ever in the light." + +"Hasten, for your time is short. You have learned all things that are +lawful to be learnt, and your deeds shall be sooner accomplished." + +"Hasten, for one moment is as another, and there is no difference +between the value of one time and of another time." + +"The moment which passes returns not, and the thing which a man should +do in one time cannot be done in another time." + +The voice ceased, and the spirit of Zoroaster returned to his body in +the cave, and his eyes opened. Then he rose, and standing within the +circle, cast sand upon the portion towards the east; and so soon as the +circle was broken, it was extinguished and there remained nothing but +the marks Zoroaster had traced with his fingers upon the black sand. + +He drew his tattered mantle around him, and went to the entrance of the +cave, and passed out. And it was night. + +Overhead, the full moon cast her broad rays vertically into the little +valley, and the smooth black stones gleamed darkly. The reflection +caught the surface of the little pool by the spring, and it was turned +to a silver shield of light. + +Zoroaster came forward and stood beside the fountain, and the glory of +the moon fell upon his white locks and beard and on the long white hand +he laid upon the rock. + +His acute senses, sharpened beyond those of men by long solitude and +fasting, distinguished the step of a man far up the height on the +distant crags, and his keen sight soon detected a figure descending +cautiously, but surely, towards the deep abyss where Zoroaster stood. +More and more clearly he saw him, till the man was near, and stood upon +an overhanging boulder within speaking distance. He was the shepherd +who, from time to time, brought food to the solitary mystic; and who +alone, of all the goatherds in those hills, would have dared to invade +the sacred precincts of Zoroaster's retreat. He was a brave fellow, but +the sight of the lonely man by the fountain awed him; it seemed as +though his white hair emitted a light of its own under the rays of the +moon, and he paused in fear lest the unearthly ascetic should do him +some mortal hurt. + +"Wilt thou harm me if I descend?" he called out timidly. + +"I harm no man," answered Zoroaster. "Come in peace." + +The active shepherd swung himself from the boulder, and in a few moments +he stood among the stones at the bottom, a few paces from the man he +sought. He was a dark fellow, clad in goat-skins, with pieces of +leather bound around his short, stout legs. His voice was hoarse, +perhaps with some still unconquered fear, and his staff rattled as he +steadied himself among the stones. + +"Art not thou he who is called Zoroaster?" he asked. + +"I am he," answered the mystic. "What wouldest thou?" + +"Thou knowest that the Great King with his queens and his court are at +the palace of Stakhar," replied the man. "I go thither from time to time +to sell cheeses to the slaves. The Great King has made a proclamation +that whosoever shall bring before him Zoroaster shall receive a talent +of gold and a robe of purple. I am a poor shepherd--fearest thou to go +to the palace?" + +"I fear nothing. I am past fear these three years." + +"Will the Great King harm thee, thinkest thou? Thou hast paid me well +for my pains since I first saw thee, and I would not have thee hurt." + +"No man can harm me. My time is not yet come." + +"Wilt thou go with me?" cried the shepherd, in sudden delight. "And +shall I have the gold and the robe?" + +"I will go with thee. Thou shalt have all thou wouldest," answered +Zoroaster. "Art thou ready? I have no goods to burden me." + +"But thou art old," objected the shepherd, coming nearer. "Canst thou go +so far on foot? I have a beast; I will return with him in the morning, +and meet thee upon the height. I came hither in haste, being but just +returned from Stakhar with the news." + +"I am younger than thou, though my hair is white. I will go with thee. +Lead the way." + +He stooped and drank of the fountain in the moonlight, from the hollow +of his hand. Then he turned, and began to ascend the steep side of the +valley. The shepherd led the way in silence, overcome between his awe of +the man and his delight at his own good fortune. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +It was now three years since Nehushta had been married to Darius, and +the king loved her well. But often, in that time, he had been away from +her, called to different parts of the kingdom by the sudden outbreaks of +revolution which filled the early years of his reign. Each time he had +come back in triumph, and each time he had given her some rich gift. He +found indeed that he had no easy task to perform in keeping the peace +between his two queens; for Atossa seemed to delight in annoying +Nehushta and in making her feel that she was but the second in the +king's favour, whatever distinctions might be offered her. But Darius +was just and was careful that Atossa should receive her due, neither +more nor less. + +Nehushta was glad when Zoroaster was gone. She had suffered terribly in +that moment when he had spoken to her out of the crowd, and the winged +word had made a wound that rankled still. In those three years that +passed, Atossa never undeceived her concerning the sight she had seen, +and she still believed that Zoroaster had basely betrayed her. It was +impossible, in her view, that it could be otherwise. Had she not seen +him herself? Could any man do such an action who was not utterly base +and heartless? She had, of course, never spoken to Darius of the scene +upon the terrace. She did not desire the destruction of Atossa, nor of +her faithless lover. Amid all the tender kindness the king lavished upon +her, the memory of her first love endured still, and she could not have +suffered the pain of going over the whole story again. He was gone, +perhaps dead, and she would never see him again. He would not dare to +set foot in the court. She remembered the king's furious anger against +him, when he suspected that the hooded man in the procession was +Zoroaster. But Darius had afterwards said, in his usual careless way, +that he himself would have done as much, and that for his oath's sake, +he would never harm the young Persian. By the grace of Auramazda he +swore, he was the king of kings and did not make war upon disappointed +lovers! + +Meanwhile, Darius had built himself a magnificent palace, below the +fortress of Stakhar, in the valley of the Araxes, and there he spent the +winter and the spring, when the manifold cares of the state would permit +him. He had been almost unceasingly at war with the numerous pretenders +who set themselves up for petty kings in the provinces. With unheard-of +rapidity, he moved from one quarter of his dominions to another, from +east to west, from north to south; but each time that he returned, he +found some little disturbance going on at the court, and he bent his +brows and declared that a parcel of women were harder to govern than all +Media, Persia, and Babylon together. + +Atossa wearied him with her suggestions. + +"When the king is gone upon an expedition," she said, "there is no head +in the palace. Otanes is a weak man. The king will not give me the +control of the household, neither will he give it to any one else." + +"There is no one whom I can trust," answered Darius. "Can you not dwell +together in peace for a month?" + +"No," answered Atossa, with her winning smile, "it is impossible; the +king's wives will never agree among themselves. Let the king choose some +one and make a head over the palace." + +"Whom shall I choose?" asked Darius, moodily. + +"The king had a faithful servant once," suggested Atossa. + +"Have I none now?" + +"Yea, but none so faithful as this man of whom I speak, nor so ready to +do the king's bidding. He departed from Shushan when the king took +Nehushta to wife--" + +"Mean you Zoroaster?" asked Darius, bending his brows, and eyeing Atossa +somewhat fiercely. But she met his glance with indifference. + +"The same," she answered. "Why not send for him and make him governor of +the palace? He was indeed a faithful servant--and a willing one." + +Still the king gazed hard at her face, as though trying to fathom the +reason of her request, or at least to detect some scornful look upon her +face to agree with her sneering words. But he was no match for the +unparalleled astuteness of Atossa, though he had a vague suspicion that +she wished to annoy him by calling up a memory which she knew could not +be pleasant, and he retorted in his own fashion. + +"If Zoroaster be yet alive I will have him brought, and I will make him +governor of the palace. He was indeed a faithful servant--he shall rule +you all and there shall be no more discord among you." + +And forthwith the king issued a proclamation that whosoever should bring +Zoroaster before him should receive a talent of gold and a robe of +purple as a reward. + +But when Nehushta heard of it she was greatly troubled; for Atossa began +to tell her that Zoroaster was to return and to be made governor of the +palace; but Nehushta rose and left her forthwith, with such a look of +dire hatred and scorn that even the cold queen thought she had, perhaps, +gone too far. + +There were other reasons why the king desired Zoroaster's return. He had +often wondered secretly how the man could so have injured Nehushta as to +turn her love into hate in a few moments; but he had never questioned +her. It was a subject neither of them could have approached, and Darius +was far too happy in his marriage to risk endangering that happiness by +any untoward discovery. Nehushta's grief and anger had been so genuine +when she told him of Zoroaster's treachery that it had never occurred to +him that he might be injuring the latter in marrying the princess, +though his generous heart had told him more than once, that Nehushta had +married him half from gratitude for his kindness, and half out of anger +with her false lover; but, capricious as she was in all other things, +towards the king she was always the same, gentle and affectionate, +though there was nothing passionate in her love. And now, the idea of +seeing the man who had betrayed her installed in an official position in +the palace, was terrible to her pride. She could not sleep for thinking +how she should meet him, and what she should do. She grew pale and +hollow-eyed with the anticipation of evil and all her peace went from +her. Deep down in her heart there was yet a clinging affection for the +old love, which she smothered and choked down bravely; but it was there +nevertheless, a sleeping giant, ready to rise and overthrow her whole +nature in a moment, if only she could wash away the stain of +faithlessness which sullied his fair memory, and lift the load of +dishonour which had crushed him from the sovereign place he had held in +the dominion of her soul. + +Darius was himself curious to ascertain the truth about Zoroaster's +conduct. But another and a weightier reason existed for which he wished +him to return. The king was disturbed about a matter of vital importance +to his kingdom, and he knew that, among all his subjects, there was not +one more able to give him assistance and advice than Zoroaster, the +pupil of the dead prophet Daniel. + +The religion of the kingdom was of a most uncertain kind. So many +changes had passed over the various provinces which made up the great +empire that, for generations, there had been almost a new religion for +every monarch. Cyrus, inclining to the idolatry of the Phoenicians, had +worshipped the sun and moon, and had built temples and done sacrifice to +them and to a multitude of deities. Cambyses had converted the temples +of his father into places of fire-worship, and had burnt thousands of +human victims; rejoicing in the splendour of his ceremonies and in the +fierce love of blood that grew upon him as his vices obtained the +mastery over his better sense. But under both kings the old Aryan +worship of the Magians had existed among the people, and the Magians +themselves had asserted, whenever they dared, their right to be +considered the priestly caste, the children of the Brahmins of the Aryan +house. Gomata--the false Smerdis--was a Brahmin, at least in name, and +probably in descent; and during his brief reign the only decrees he +issued from his retirement in the palace of Shushan, were for the +destruction of the existing temples and the establishment of the Magian +worship throughout the kingdom. When Darius had slain Smerdis, he +naturally proceeded to the destruction of the Magi, and the streets of +Shushan ran with their blood for many days. He then restored the temples +and the worship of Auramazda, as well as he was able; but it soon became +evident that the religion was in a disorganised state and that it would +be no easy matter to enforce a pure monotheism upon a nation of men who, +in their hearts, were Magians, nature-worshippers; and who, through +successive reigns, had been driven by force to the adoration of strange +idols. It followed that the people resisted the change and revolted +whenever they could find a leader. The numerous revolutions, which cost +Darius no less than nineteen battles, were, almost without exception, +brought about in the attempt to restore the Magian worship in various +provinces of the kingdom, and it may well be doubted whether, at any +time in the world's history, an equal amount of blood was ever shed in +so short a period in the defence of religious convictions. + +Darius himself was a man who had the strongest belief in the power of +Auramazda, the All-Wise God, and who did not hesitate to attribute all +the evil in the world to Ahriman, the devil. He had a bitter contempt +for all idolatry, nature-worship and superstition generally, and he +adhered in his daily life to the simple practices of the ancient +Mazdayashnians. But he was totally unfitted to be the head of a +religious movement; and, although he had collected such of the +priesthood as seemed most worthy, and had built them temples and given +them privileges of all kinds, he was far from satisfied with their mode +of worship. He could not frame a new doctrine, but he had serious doubts +whether the ceremonies his priests performed were as simple and +religious as he wished them to be. The chants, long hymns of endless +repetition and monotony, were well enough, perhaps; the fire that was +kept burning perpetually was a fitting emblem of the sleepless wisdom +and activity of the Supreme Being in overcoming darkness with light. But +the boundless intoxication into which the priests threw themselves by +the excessive drinking of the Haoma, the wild and irregular acts of +frenzy by which they expressed their religious fervour when under the +influence of the subtle drink, were adjuncts to the simple purity of the +bloodless sacrifice which disgusted the king, and he hesitated long as +to some reform in these matters. The oldest Mazdayashnians declared that +the drinking of Haoma was an act, at once pleasing to God and necessary +to stimulate the zeal of the priests in the long and monotonous +chanting, which would otherwise soon sink to a mere perfunctory +performance of a wearisome task. The very repetition which the hymns +contained seemed to prove that they were not intended to be recited by +men not under some extraordinary influence. Only the wild madness of the +Haoma drinker could sustain such an endless series of repeated prayers +with fitting devotion and energy. + +All this the king heard and was not satisfied. He attended the +ceremonies with becoming regularity and sat through the performance of +the rites with exemplary patience. But he was disgusted, and he desired +a reform. Then he remembered how Zoroaster himself was a good +Mazdayashnian, and how he had occupied himself with religious studies +from his youth up, and how he had enjoyed the advantage of being the +companion of Daniel, the Hebrew governor, whose grand simplicity of +faith had descended, to some degree, upon his pupil. The Hebrews, Darius +knew, were a sober people of the strongest religious convictions, and he +had heard that, although eating formed, in some way, a part of their +ceremonies, there was no intoxication connected with their worship. +Zoroaster, he thought, would be able to give him advice upon this point, +which would be good. In sending for the man he would fulfil the double +purpose of seeming to grant the queen's request, and at the same time, +of providing himself with a sage counsellor in his difficulties. With +his usual impetuosity, he at once fulfilled his purpose, assuring +himself that Zoroaster must have forgotten Nehushta by this time, and +that he, the king, was strong enough to prevent trouble if he had not. + +But many days passed, and though the proclamation was sent to all parts +of the kingdom, nothing was heard of Zoroaster. His retreat was a sure +one and there was no possibility of his being found. + +Atossa, who in her heart longed for Zoroaster's return, both because by +his means she hoped to bring trouble upon Nehushta, and because she +still felt something akin to love for him, began to fear that he might +be dead, or might have wandered out of the kingdom; but Nehushta herself +knew not whether to hope that he would return, or to rejoice that she +was to escape the ordeal of meeting him. She would have given anything +to see him for a moment, to decide, as it were, whether she wished to +see him, or not. She was deeply disturbed by the anxiety she felt and +longed to know definitely what she was to expect. + +She began to hate Stakhar with its splendid gardens and gorgeous +colonnades, with its soft southern air that blew across the valley of +roses all day long, wafting up a wondrous perfume to the south windows. +She hated the indolent pomp in which she lived and the idle luxury of +her days. Something in her hot-blooded Hebrew nature craved for the +blazing sun and the sand-wastes of Syria, for the breath of the desert +and for the burning heat of the wilderness. She had scarcely ever seen +these things, for she had sojourned during the one-and-twenty years of +her life, in the most magnificent palaces of the kingdom, and amid the +fairest gardens the hand of man could plant. But the love of the sun and +of the sand was bred in the blood. She began to hate the soft cushions +and the delicate silks and the endless flowers scenting the heavy air. + +Stakhar[8] itself was a mighty fortress, in the valley of the Araxes, +rising dark and forbidding from the banks of the little river, crowned +with towers and turrets and massive battlements, that overlooked the +fertile extent of gardens, as a stern schoolmaster frowning over a crowd +of fair young children. But Darius had chosen the site of his palace at +some distance from the stronghold; where the river bent suddenly round a +spur of the mountain, and watered a wider extent of land. The spur of +the hill ran down, by an easy gradation, into the valley; and beyond it +the hills separated into the wide plain of Merodasht that stretched +southward many farsangs to the southern pass. Upon this promontory the +king had caused to be built a huge platform which was ascended by the +broadest flight of steps in the whole world, so easy of gradation that a +man might easily have ridden up and then down again without danger to +his horse. Upon the platform was raised the palace, a mighty structure +resting on the vast columned porticoes and halls, built entirely of +polished black marble, that contrasted strangely with the green slopes +of the hills above and with the bright colours of the rose-gardens. +Endless buildings rose behind the palace, and stretched far down towards +the river below it. Most prominent of those above was the great temple +of Auramazda, where the ceremonies were performed which gave Darius so +much anxiety. It was a massive, square building, lower than the palace, +consisting of stone walls surrounded by a deep portico of polished +columns. It was not visible from the great staircase, being placed +immediately behind the palace and hidden by it. + + [Footnote 8: Istakhar, called since the conquest of Alexander, + Persepolis.] + +The walls and the cornices and the capitals of the pillars were richly +sculptured with sacrificial processions, and long trains of soldiers and +captives, with great inscriptions of wedge-shaped letters, and with +animals of all sorts. The work was executed by Egyptian captives; and so +carefully was the hard black marble carved and polished, that a man +could see his face in the even surfaces, and they sent back the light +like dark mirrors. + +The valley above Stakhar was grand in its great outlines of crags and +sharp, dark peaks, and the beetling fortress upon its rocky base, far up +the gorge, seemed only a jutting fragment of the great mountain, thrown +off and separated from the main chain by an earthquake, or some vast +accident of nature. But from the palace itself the contrast of the views +was great. On one side, the rugged hills, crag-crowned and bristling +black against the north-western sky; on the other, the great bed of +rose-gardens and orangeries and cultivated enclosures filled the plain, +till in the dim distance rose the level line of the soft blue southern +hills, blending mistily in the lazy light of a far-off warmth. It seemed +as though on one side of the palace were winter, and on the other +summer; on the one side cold, and on the other heat; on the one side +rough strength, and on the other gentle rest. + +But Nehushta gazed northward and was weary of the cold, and southward, +and she wearied of the heat. There was nothing--nothing in it all that +was worth one moment of the old sweet moonlit evenings among the myrtles +at Ecbatana. When she thought, there was nothing of all her royal state +and luxury that she would not readily give to have had Zoroaster remain +faithful to her. She had put him away from her heart, driven him out +utterly, as she believed; but now that he was spoken of again, she knew +not whether she loved him a little in spite of all his unfaithfulness, +or whether it was only the memory of the love she had felt before which +stirred in her breast, and made her unconsciously speak his name when +she was alone. + +She looked back over the three years that were passed, and she knew that +she had done her duty by the king. She knew also that she had done it +willingly, and that there had been many moments when she said to herself +that she loved Darius dearly. Indeed, it was not hard to find a reason +for loving him, for he was brave and honest and noble in all his +thoughts and ways; and whatever he had been able to do to show his love +for Nehushta, he had done. It was not the least of the things that had +made her life pass so easily, that she felt daily how she was loved +before her rival, and how, in her inmost heart, Atossa chafed at seeing +Darius forsake her society for that of the Hebrew princess. If the king +had wearied of her, Nehushta would very likely have escaped from the +palace, and gone out to face any misfortunes the world might hold for +her, rather than remain to bear the scoffing of the fair smiling woman +she so hated. Or, she would have stolen in by night to where Atossa +slept, and the wicked-looking Indian knife she wore, would have gone +down, swift and sure, to the very haft, into the queen's heart. She +would not have borne tamely any slight upon her beauty or her claims. +But, as it was, she reigned supreme. The king was just, and showed no +difference in the state and attendance of the two queens, but it was to +Nehushta he turned, when he drank deep at the banquet and pledged the +loving cup. It was to Nehushta that he went when the cares of state were +heavy and he needed counsel; and it was upon her lap he laid his weary +head, when he had ridden far and fast for many days, returning from some +hard-fought field. + +But the queens hated each other with a fierce hatred, and when Darius +was absent, their divisions broke out sometimes into something like open +strife. Their guards buffeted each other in the courts, and their +slave-women tore out each other's hair upon the stairways. Then, when +the king returned, there reigned an armed peace for a time, which none +dared break. But rumours of the disturbances that had taken place often +reached the royal ears, and Darius was angry and swore great oaths, but +could do nothing; being no wiser than many great men who have had to +choose between the caprices of two women who hated each other. + +Now the rumour went abroad that Zoroaster would return to the court; and +for a space, the two queens kept aloof, for both knew that if he came +back, some mortal conflict would of necessity arise between them; and +each watched the other, and was cautious. + +The days passed by, but no one answered the proclamation. No one had +seen or heard of Zoroaster, since the night when he left the palace at +Shushan. He had taken nothing with him, and had left no trace behind to +guide the search. Many said he had left the kingdom; some said he was +dead in the wilderness. But Nehushta sighed and took little rest, for do +what she would, she had hoped to see him once more. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +The interior of the temple was lighted with innumerable lamps, suspended +from the ceiling, of bronze and of the simplest workmanship, like +everything which pertained to the worship of Auramazda. In the midst, +upon a small altar of black stone, stood a bronze brazier, shaped like a +goblet, wherein a small fire of wood burned quietly, sending up little +wreaths of smoke, which spread over the flat ceiling and hung like a +mist about the lamps; before the altar lay a supply of fuel--fine, +evenly-cut sticks of white pine-wood, piled in regular order in a +symmetrical heap. At one extremity of the oblong hall stood a huge +mortar of black marble, having a heavy wooden pestle, and standing upon +a circular base, in which was cut a channel all around, with an opening +in the front from which the Haoma juice poured out abundantly when the +fresh milkweed was moistened and pounded together in the mortar. A +square receptacle of marble received the fluid, which remained until it +had fermented during several days, and had acquired the intoxicating +strength for which it was prized, and to which it owed its sacred +character. By the side of this vessel, upon a low marble table, lay a +huge wooden ladle; and two golden cups, short and wide, but made smaller +in the middle like a sand-glass, stood there also. + +At the opposite end of the temple, before a marble screen which shielded +the doorway, was placed a great carved chair of ebony and gold and +silver, raised upon a step above the level of the floor. + +It was already dark when the king entered the temple, dressed in his +robes of state, with his sword by his side, his long sceptre tipped with +the royal sphere in his right hand, and the many-pointed crown upon his +head. His heavy black beard had grown longer in the three years that had +passed, and flowed down over his vest of purple and white half-way to +his belt. His face was stern, and the deep lines of his strong features +had grown more massive in outline. With the pride of every successive +triumph had come also something more of repose and conscious power. His +step was slower, and his broad brown hand grasped the golden sceptre +with less of nervous energy and more unrelenting force. But his brows +were bent, and his expression, as he took his seat before the screen, +over against the altar of the fire, was that of a man who was prepared +to be discontented and cared little to conceal what he felt. + +After him came the chief priest, completely robed in white, with a +thick, white linen sash rolled for a girdle about his waist, the fringed +ends hanging stiffly down upon one side. Upon his head he wore a great +mitre, also of white linen, and a broad fringed stole of the same +material fell in two wide bands from each side of his neck to his feet. +His beard was black and glossy, fine as silk, and reached almost to his +waist. He came and stood with his back to the king and his face to the +altar, ten paces from the second fire. + +Then, from behind the screen and from each side of it, the other priests +filed out, two and two, all clad in white like the chief priest, save +that their mitres were smaller and they wore no stole. They came out and +ranged themselves around the walls of the temple, threescore and nine +men, of holy order, trained in the ancient chanting of the Mazdayashnian +hymns; men in the prime and strength of life, black-bearded and +broad-shouldered, whose massive brows and straight features indicated +noble powers of mind and body. + +The two who stood nearest to the chief priest came forward, and taking +from his hands a square linen cloth he bore, bound it across his mouth +and tied it behind his neck in a firm knot by means of strings. Then, +one of them put into his left hand a fan of eagles' feathers, and the +other gave him a pair of wrought-iron pincers. Then they left him to +advance alone to the altar. + +He went forward till he was close to the bronze brazier, and stooping +down, he took from the heap of fuel a clean white stick, with the +pincers, which he carefully laid upon the fire. Then with his left hand +he gently fanned the flames, and his mouth being protected by the linen +cloth in such a manner that his breath could not defile the sacred fire, +he began slowly and in a voice muffled by the bandage he wore, to recite +the beginning of the sacrificial hymn: + + _"Best of all goods is purity. + Glory, glory to him + Who is best and purest in purity. + For he who ruleth from purity, he abideth according + to the will of the Lord. + The All-Wise giveth gifts for the works which man + doeth in the world for the Lord. + He who protecteth the poor giveth the kingdom to Ahura."_[9] + + [Footnote 9: Probably the oldest hymns in the Avesta language.] + +Then all the priests repeated the verses together in chorus, their +voices sounding in a unison which, though not precisely song, seemed +tending to a musical cadence as the tones rose and fell again upon the +last two syllables of each verse. And then again, the chief priest and +the other priests together repeated the hymn, many times, in louder and +louder chorus, with more and more force of intonation; till the chief +priest stepped back from the fire, and delivering up the pincers and the +fan, allowed the two assistants to unbind the cloth from his mouth. + +He walked slowly up the temple on the left side, and keeping his right +hand toward the altar, he walked seven times around it, repeating a hymn +alone in low tones; till, after the seventh time, he went up to the +farther end of the hall, and stood before the black marble trough in +which the fermented Haoma stood ready, having been prepared with due +ceremony three days before. + +Then, in a loud voice, he intoned the chant in praise of Zaothra and +Bareshma, holding high in his right hand the bundle of sacred stalks; +which he, from time to time, moistened a little in the water from a +vessel which stood ready, and sprinkled to the four corners of the +temple. The priests again took up the strain in chorus, repeating over +and over the burden of the song. + + _"Zaothra, I praise thee and desire thee with praise! + Bareshma, I praise thee and desire thee with praise! + Zaothra, with Bareshma united, I praise you + and desire you with praise! + Bareshma, with Zaothra united, I praise you and + desire you with praise!"_ + +Suddenly the chief priest laid down the Bareshma, and seizing one of the +golden goblets, filled it, with the wooden ladle, from the dark +receptacle of the juice. As he poured it high, the yellow light of the +lamp caught the transparent greenish fluid, and made it sparkle +strangely. He put the goblet to his lips and drank. + +The king, sitting in silence upon his carved throne at the other +extremity of the temple, bent his brows in a dark frown as he saw the +hated ceremony begin. He knew how it ended, and grand as the words were +which they would recite when the subtle fluid had fired their veins, he +loathed to see the intoxication that got possession of them; and the +frenzy with which they howled the sacred strains seemed to him to +destroy the solemnity and dignity of a hymn, in which all that was +solemn and high would otherwise have seemed to be united. + +The chief priest drank and then, filling both goblets, gave them to the +priests at his right and left hand; who, after drinking, passed each +other, and made way for those next them; and so the whole number filed +past the Haoma vessel and drank their share till they all had changed +places, and those who had stood upon the right, now stood upon the left; +and those who were first upon the left hand, were now upon the right. +And when all had drunk, the chief priest intoned the great hymn of +praise, and all the chorus united with him in high, clear tones: + + _"The All-Wise Creator, Ahura Mazda, the greatest, the best, the + most fair in glory and majesty," + + "The mightiest in his strength, the wisest in his wisdom, the + holiest in his holiness, whose power is of all power the + fairest," + + "Who is very wise, who maketh all things to rejoice afar," + + "Who hath made us and formed us, who hath saved us, the holiest + among the heavenly ones," + + "Him I adore and praise, unto him I declare the sacrifice, him I + invite," + + "I declare the sacrifice to the Protector, the Peace-maker, who + maketh the fire to burn, who preserveth the wealth of the earth; + the whole earth and the wisdom thereof, the seas and the waters, + the land and all growing things, I invite to the sacrifice." + + "Cattle and living things, and the fire of Ahura, the sure + helper, the lord of the archangels," + + "The nights and the days, I call upon, the purity of all created + light," + + "The Lord of light, the sun in his glory, glorious in name and + worthy of honour," + + "Who giveth food unto men, and multiplieth the cattle upon the + earth, who causeth mankind to increase, I call upon and invite to + the sacrifice," + + "Water, and the centre of all waters, given and made of God, that + refresheth all things and maketh all things to grow, I call upon + and invite." + + "The souls of the righteous and pure, the whole multitude of + living men and women upon earth, I call upon and invite." + + "I call upon the triumph and the mighty strength of God," + + "I call upon the archangels who keep the world, upon the months, + upon the pure, new moon, the lordship of purity in heaven," + + "I call upon the feasts of the years and the seasons, upon the + years and the months and days," + + "I call upon the star Ahura,[10] and upon the one great and + eternal in purity, and upon all the stars, the works of God," + + "Upon the star Tistrya I call, the far-shining, the + magnificent--upon the fair moon that shineth upon the young + cattle, upon the glorious sun swift in the race of his flight, + the eye of the Lord." + + "I call upon the spirits and souls of the righteous, on the + fire-begotten of the Lord, and upon all fires." + + "Mountains and all hills, lightened and full of light." + + "Majesty of kingly honour, the Majesty of the king which dieth + not, is not diminished," + + "All wisdom and blessings and true promises, all men who are full + of strength and power and might," + + "All places and lands and countries beneath the heavens, and + above the heavens, light without beginning, existing, and without + end," + + "All creatures pure and good, male and female upon the earth." + + "All you I invite and call upon to the sacrifice." + + "Havani, pure, lord of purity!" + + "Shavanghi, pure, lord of purity!" + + "Rapithwina, pure, lord of purity!" + + "Uzayeirina, pure, lord of purity!" + + "Aiwishruthrema, Aibigaya, pure, lord of purity!" + + "Ushahina, pure, lord of purity!" + + "To Havani, Shavanghi and Vishya, the pure, the lords of purity + most glorious, be honour and prayer and fulfilment and praise." + + "To the days, and the nights, and the hours, the months and the + years and the feasts of years, be honour and prayer and + fulfilment and praise before Auramazda, the All-Wise, for ever + and ever and ever."_[11] + + [Footnote 10: Ahura, Jupiter. Tistrya, Sirius.] + + [Footnote 11: Partly a translation, partly a close imitation in + a condensed form of Yashna I.] + +As the white-robed priests shouted the verses of the long hymn, their +eyes flashed and their bodies moved rhythmically from side to side with +an ever-increasing motion. From time to time, the golden goblets were +filled with the sweet Haoma juice, and passed rapidly from hand to hand +along the line, and as each priest drank more freely of the subtle +fermented liquor, his eyes gained a new and more unnatural light, and +his gestures grew more wild, while the whole body of voices rose +together from an even and dignified chant to an indistinguishable +discord of deafening yells. + +Ever more and more they drank, repeating the verses of the hymn without +order or sequence. One man repeated a verse over and over again in +ear-piercing shrieks, swaying his body to and fro till he dropped +forward upon the ground, foaming at the mouth, his features distorted +with a wild convulsion, and his limbs as rigid as stone. Here, a band of +five locked their arms together, and, back to back, whirled madly round, +screaming out the names of the archangels, in an indiscriminate rage of +sound and broken syllables. One, less enduring than the rest, relaxed +his hold upon his fellow's arm and fell headlong on the pavement, while +the remaining four were carried on by the force of their whirling, and +fell together against others who steadied themselves against the wall, +swaying their heads and arms from side to side. Overthrown by the fall +of their companions, these in their turn fell forward upon the others, +and in a few moments, the whole company of priests lay grovelling one +upon the other, foaming at the mouth, but still howling out detached +verses of their hymn--a mass of raging, convulsed humanity, tearing each +other in the frenzy of drunkenness, rolling over and over each otter in +the twisted contortions of frenzied maniacs. The air grew thick with the +smoke of the fire and of the lamps, and the unceasing, indescribable din +of the hoarsely howling voices seemed to make the very roof rock upon +the pillars that held it up, as though the stones themselves must go mad +and shriek in the universal fury of sound. The golden goblets rolled +upon the marble pavement, and the sweet green juice ran in slimy streams +upon the floor. The high priest himself, utterly intoxicated and +screaming with a voice like a wild beast in agony, fell backwards across +the marble vase at the foot of the mortar and his hand and arm plashed +into the dregs of the fermented Haoma. + +Never had the drunken frenzy reached such a point before. The king had +sat motionless and frowning upon his seat until he saw the high priest +fall headlong into the receptacle of the sacred Haoma. Then, with a +groan, he laid his two hands upon the arms of his carved chair, and +rose to his feet in utter disgust and horror. But, as he turned to go, +he stood still and shook from head to foot, for he saw beside him a +figure that might, at such a moment, have startled the boldest. + +A tall man of unearthly looks stood there, whose features he seemed to +know, but could not recognise. His face was thin to emaciation, and his +long, white hair fell in tangled masses, with his huge beard, upon his +half-naked shoulders and bare chest. The torn, dark mantle he wore was +falling to the ground as he faced the drunken herd of howling priests +and lifted up his thin blanched arms and bony fingers, as though in +protest at the hideous sight. His deep-set eyes were blue and fiery, +flashing with a strange light. He seemed not to see Darius, but he gazed +in deepest horror upon the writhing mass of bestial humanity below. + +Suddenly his arms shook, and standing there, against the dark marble +screen, like the very figure and incarnation of fate, he spoke in a +voice that, without effort, seemed to dominate the hideous din of +yelling voices--a voice that was calm and clear as a crystal bell, but +having that in it which carried instantly the words he spoke to the ears +of the very most besotted wretch that lay among the heaps upon the +floor--a voice that struck like a sharp steel blade upon iron. + +"I am the prophet of the Lord. Hold ye your peace." + +As a wild beast's howling suddenly diminishes and grows less and dies +away to silence, when the hunter's arrow has sped close to the heart +with a mortal wound, so in one moment, the incoherent din sank down, and +the dead stillness that followed was dreadful by contrast. Darius stood +with his hand upon the arm of his chair, not understanding the words of +the fearful stranger; still less the mastering power those words had +upon the drunken priests. But his courage did not desert him, and he +feared not to speak. + +"How sayest thou that thou art a prophet? Who art thou?" he asked. + +"Thou knowest me and hast sent for me," answered the white-haired man, +in his calm tones; but his fiery eyes rested on the king's, and Darius +almost quailed under the glance. "I am Zoroaster; I am come to proclaim +the truth to thee and to these miserable men, thy priests." + +The fear they felt had restored the frenzied men to their senses. One by +one, they rose and crept back towards the high priest himself, who had +struggled to his feet, and stood upon the basement of the mortar above +all the rest. + +Then Darius looked, and he knew that it was Zoroaster, but he knew not +the strange look upon his face, and the light in his eyes was not as the +light of other days. He turned to the priests. + +"Ye are unworthy priests," he cried angrily, "for ye are drunk with +your own sacrifice, and ye defile God's temple with unseemly cries. +Behold this man--can ye tell me whether he be indeed a prophet?" +Darius, whose anger was fast taking the place of the awe he had felt +when he first saw Zoroaster beside him, strode a step forward, with his +hand upon his sword-hilt, as though he would take summary vengeance +upon the desecrators of the temple. + +"He is surely a liar!" cried the high priest from his position beyond +the altar, as though hurling defiance at Zoroaster through the flames. + +"He is surely a liar!" repeated all the priests together, following +their head. + +"He is a Magian, a worshipper of idols, a liar and the father of lies! +Down with him! Slay him before the altar; destroy the unbeliever that +entereth the temple of Ahura Mazda!" + +"Down with the Magian! Down with the idolater!" cried the priests, and +moved forward in a body toward the thin white-haired man who stood +facing them, serene and high. + +Darius drew his short sword and rushed before Zoroaster to strike down +the foremost of the priests. But Zoroaster seized the keen blade in the +air as though it had been a reed, and wrenched it from the king's strong +grip, and broke it in pieces like glass, and cast the fragments at his +feet. Darius staggered back in amazement, and the herd of angry men, in +whose eyes still blazed the drunkenness of the Haoma, huddled together +for a moment like frightened sheep. + +"I have no need of swords," said Zoroaster, in his cold, clear voice. + +Then the high priest cried aloud, and ran forward and seized a brand +from the sacred fire. + +"It is Angramainyus, the Power of Evil," he yelled fiercely. "He is come +to fight with Auramazda in his temple! But the fire of the Lord shall +destroy him!" + +As the priest rushed upon him, with the blazing brand raised high to +strike, Zoroaster faced him and fixed his eyes upon the angry man. The +priest suddenly stood still, his hand in mid-air, and the stout piece of +burning wood fell to the floor, and lay smouldering and smoking upon the +pavement. + +"Tempt not the All-Wise Lord, lest he destroy thee," said Zoroaster +solemnly. "Harken, ye priests, and obey the word from heaven. Take the +brazier from your altar, and scatter the embers upon the floor, for the +fire is defiled." + +Silent and trembling, the priests obeyed, for they were afraid; but the +high priest stood looking in amazement upon Zoroaster. + +When the brazier was gone, and the coals were scattered out upon the +pavement, and the priests had trodden out the fire with their leathern +shoes, Zoroaster went to the black marble altar, and faced the east, +looking towards the stone mortar at the end. He laid his long, thin +hands upon the flat surface and drew them slowly together; and, in the +sight of the priests, a light sprang up softly between his fingers; +gradually at first, then higher and higher, till it stood like a blazing +spear-head in the midst, emitting a calm, white effulgence that darkened +the lamps overhead, and shed an unearthly whiteness on Zoroaster's white +face. + +He stepped back from the altar, and a low murmur of astonishment rose +from all the crowd of white-robed men. Darius stood in silent wonder, +gazing alternately upon the figure of Zoroaster, and upon the fragments +of his good sword that lay scattered upon the pavement. + +Zoroaster looked round upon the faces of the priests with blazing eyes: + +"If ye be true priests of Ahura Mazda, raise with me the hymn of +praise," he said. "Let it be heard in the heavens, and let it echo +beyond the spheres!" + +Then his voice rose calm and clear above all the others, and lifting up +his eyes and hands, he intoned the solemn chant: + + _"He, who by truth ruleth in purity, abideth according to the + will of the Lord." + + "The Lord All-Wise is the giver of gifts to men for the works + which men in the world shall do in the truth of the Lord." + + "He who protecteth the poor giveth the kingdom to God." + + "Best of all earthly goods is truth." + + "Glory, glory on high for ever to him who is best in heaven, and + truest in truth on earth!"_ + +Zoroaster's grand voice rang out, and all the priests sang melodiously +together; and upon the place which had been the scene of such frenzy and +fury and drunkenness, there descended a peace as holy and calm as the +quiet flame that burned without fuel upon the black stone in the midst. +One by one, the priests came and fell at Zoroaster's feet; the chief +priest first of all. + +"Thou art the prophet and priest of the Lord," each said, one after +another. "I acknowledge thee to be the chief priest, and I swear to be a +true priest with thee." + +And last of all, the king, who had stood silently by, came and would +have kneeled before Zoroaster. But Zoroaster took his hands, and they +embraced. + +"Forgive me the wrong I did thee, Zoroaster," said Darius. "For thou art +a holy man, and I will honour thee as thou wast not honoured before." + +"Thou hast done me no wrong," answered Zoroaster. "Thou hast sent for +me, and I am come to be thy faithful friend, as I swore to thee, long +ago, in the tent at Shushan." + +Then they took Zoroaster's torn clothes, and they clad him in white +robes and set a spotless mitre upon his head; and the king, for the +second time, took his golden chain from his own neck, and put it about +Zoroaster's shoulders. And they led him away into the palace. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +When it was known that Zoroaster had returned, there was some stir in +the palace. The news that he was made high priest soon reached +Nehushta's ears, and she wondered what change had come over him in three +years that could have made a priest of such a man. She remembered him +young and marvellously fair, a warrior at all points, though at the same +time an accomplished courtier. She could not imagine him invested with +the robes of priesthood, leading a chorus of singers in the chanting of +the hymns. + +But it was not only as a chief priest that Darius had reinstalled +Zoroaster in the palace. The king needed a counsellor and adviser, and +the learned priest seemed a person fitted for the post. + +On the following day, Nehushta, as was her wont, went out, in the cool +of the evening, to walk in the gardens, attended by her maidens, her +fan-girls and the slaves who bore her carpet and cushions in case she +wished to sit down. She walked languidly, as though she hardly cared to +lift her delicate slippered feet from the smooth walk, and often she +paused and plucked a flower, and all her train of serving-women stopped +behind her, not daring even to whisper among themselves, for the young +queen was in no gentle humour of mind. Her face was pale and her eyes +were heavy, for she knew the man she had so loved in other days was +near, and though he had so bitterly deceived her, the sound of his sweet +promises was yet in her ears; and sometimes, in her dreams, she felt the +gentle breath of his mouth upon her sleeping lips, and woke with a start +of joy that was but the forerunner of a new sadness. + +Slowly she paced the walks of the rose-gardens, thinking of another +place in the far north, where there had been roses, and myrtles too, +upon a terrace where the moonlight was very fair. + +As she turned a sharp corner where the overhanging shrubbery darkened +the declining light to a dusky shade, she found herself face to face +with the man of whom she was thinking. His tall thin figure, clad in +spotless white robes, seemed like a shadow in the gloom, and his snowy +beard and hair made a strange halo about his young face, that was so +thin and worn. He walked slowly, his hands folded together, and his eyes +upon the ground; while a few paces behind him two young priests followed +with measured steps, conversing in low tones, as though fearing to +disturb the meditations of their master. + +Nehushta started a little and would have passed on, although she +recognised the face of him she had loved. But Zoroaster lifted his eyes, +and looked on her with so strange an expression that she stopped short +in the way. The deep, calm light in his eyes awed her, and there was +something in his majestic presence that seemed of another world. + +"Hail, Nehushta!" said the high priest quietly. + +But, at the sound of his voice, the spell was broken. The Hebrew woman +lifted her head proudly, and her black eyes flashed again. + +"Greet me not," she answered, "for the greeting of a liar is like the +sting of the serpent that striketh unawares in the dark." + +Zoroaster's face never changed, only his luminous eyes gazed on hers +intently, and she paused again, as though riveted to the spot. + +"I lie not, nor have lied to thee ever," he answered calmly. "Go thou +hence, ask her whom thou hatest, whether I have deceived thee. +Farewell." + +He turned his gaze from her and passed slowly on, looking down to the +ground, his hands folded before him. He left her standing in the way, +greatly troubled and not understanding his saying. + +Had she not seen with her eyes how he held Atossa in his arms on that +evil morning in Shushan? Had she not seen how, when he was sent away, he +had written a letter to Atossa and no word to herself? Could these +things which she had seen and known, be untrue? The thought was +horrible--that her whole life had perhaps been wrecked and ruined by a +mistake. And yet there was not any mistake, she repeated to herself. She +had seen; one must believe what one sees. She had heard Atossa's +passionate words of love, and had seen Zoroaster's arms go round her +drooping body; one must believe what one sees and hears and knows! + +But there was a ringing truth in his voice just now when he said: "I lie +not, nor have lied to thee ever." A lie--no, not spoken, but done; and +the lie of an action is greater than the lie of a word. And yet, his +voice sounded true just now in the dusk, and there was something in it, +something like the ring of a far regret. "Ask her whom thou hatest," he +had said. That was Atossa. There was no other woman whom she hated--no +man save him. + +She had many times asked herself whether or no she loved the king. She +felt something for him that she had not felt for Zoroaster. The +passionate enthusiasm of the strong, dark warrior sometimes carried her +away and raised her with it; she loved his manliness, his honesty, his +unchanging constancy of purpose. And yet Zoroaster had had all these, +and more also, though they had shown themselves in a different way. She +looked back and remembered how calm he had always been, how utterly +superior in his wisdom. He seemed scarcely mortal, until he had one day +fallen--and fallen so desperately low in her view, that she loathed the +memory of that feigned calmness and wisdom and parity. For it must have +been feigned. How else could he have put his arms about Atossa, and +taken her head upon his breast, while she sobbed out words of love? + +But if he loved Atossa, she loved him as well. She said so, cried it +aloud upon the terrace where any one might have heard it. Why then had +he left the court, and hidden himself so long in the wilderness? Why, +before going out on his wanderings, had he disguised himself, and gone +and stood where the procession passed, and hissed out a bitter insult as +Nehushta went by? For her sake he had abandoned his brilliant life these +three years, to dwell in the desert, to grow so thin and miserable of +aspect that he looked like an old man. And his hair and beard were +white--she had heard that a man might turn white from sorrow in a day. +Was it grief that had so changed him? Grief to see her wedded to the +king before his eyes? His voice rang so true: "Ask her whom thou +hatest," he had said. In truth she would ask. It was all too +inexplicable, and the sudden thought that she had perhaps wronged him +three long years ago--even the possibility of the thought that seemed so +little possible to her yesterday--wrought strangely in her breast, and +terrified her. She would ask Atossa to her face whether Zoroaster had +loved her. She would tell how she had seen them together upon the +balcony, and heard Atossa's quick, hot words. She would threaten to tell +the king; and if the elder queen refused to answer truth, she would +indeed tell him and put her rival to a bitter shame. + +She walked more quickly upon the smooth path, and her hands wrung each +other, and once she felt the haft of that wicked Indian knife she ever +wore. When she turned back and went up the broad steps of the palace, +the moon was rising above the far misty hills to eastward, and there +were lights beneath the columned portico. She paused and looked back +across the peaceful valley, and far down below, a solitary nightingale +called out a few melancholy notes, and then burst forth into glorious +song. + +Nehushta turned again to go in, and there were tears in her dark eyes, +that had not stood there for many a long day. But she clasped her hands +together, and went forward between the crouching slaves, straight to +Atossa's apartment. It was not usual for any one to gain access to the +eider queen's inner chambers without first obtaining permission, from +Atossa herself, and Nehushta had never been there. They met rarely in +public, and spoke little, though each maintained the appearances of +courtesy; but Atossa's smile was the sweeter of the two. In private they +never saw each other; and the queen's slaves would perhaps have tried +to prevent Nehushta from entering, but her black eyes flashed upon them +in such dire wrath as she saw them before her, that they crouched away +and let her pass on unmolested. + +Atossa sat, as ever at that hour in her toilet-chamber, surrounded by +her tirewomen. The room was larger than the one at Shushan, for she had +caused it to be built after her own plans; but her table was the same as +ever, and upon it stood the broad silver mirror, which she never allowed +to be left behind when she travelled. + +Her magnificent beauty had neither changed nor faded in three years. +Such strength as hers was not to be broken, nor worn out, by the mere +petty annoyances of palace life. She could sustain the constant little +warfare she waged against the king, without even so much as looking +careworn and pale for a moment, though the king himself often looked +dark and weary, and his eyes were heavy with sleeplessness for the +trouble she gave him. Yet he could new determine to rid himself of her, +even when he began to understand the profound badness of her character. +She exercised a certain fascination over him, as a man grows fond of +some beautiful, wicked beast he has half-tamed, though it turn and show +its teeth at him sometimes, and be altogether more of a care than a +pastime. She was so fair and evil that he could not hurt her; it would +have seemed a crime to destroy anything so wondrously made. Moreover, +she could amuse him and make many an hour pass pleasantly when she was +so disposed. + +She was fully attired for the banquet that was to take place late in +the evening, but her women were still about her, and she looked at +herself critically in the mirror, and would have changed the pinning of +her tiara, so that her fair hair should fall forward upon one side, +instead of backwards over her shoulder. She tried the effect of the +change upon her face, and peered into the mirror beneath the bright +light of the tall lamps; when, on a sudden, as she looked, she met the +reflection of two angry dark eyes, and she knew that Nehushta was behind +her. + +She rose to her feet, turning quickly, and the sweep of her long robe +overthrew the light carved chair upon the marble floor. She faced +Nehushta with a cold smile that betrayed surprise at being thus +interrupted in her toilet rather than any dread of the interview. Her +delicate eyebrows arched themselves in something of scorn, but her voice +came low and sweet as ever. + +"It is rarely indeed that the queen Nehushta deigns to visit her +servant," she said. "Had she sent warning of her coming, she would have +been more fittingly received." + +Nehushta stood still before her. She hated that cool, still voice that +choked her like a tightening bow-string about her neck. + +"We have small need of court formalities," answered the Hebrew woman, +shortly. "I desire to speak with you alone upon a matter of importance." + +"I am alone," returned Atossa, seating herself upon the carved chair, +which one of the slaves had instantly set up again, and motioning to +Nehushta to be seated. But Nehushta glanced at the serving-women and +remained standing. + +"You are not alone," she said briefly. + +"They are not women--they are slaves," answered Atossa, with a smile. + +"Will you not send them away?" + +"Why should I?" + +"You need not--I will," returned Nehushta. "Begone, and quickly!" she +added, turning to the little group of women and slave-girls who stood +together, looking on in wonder. At Nehushta's imperious command, they +hurried through the door, and the curtains fell behind them. They knew +Nehushta's power in the palace too well to hesitate to obey her, even in +the presence of their own mistress. + +"Strange ways you have!" exclaimed Atossa, in a low voice. She was +fiercely angry, but there was no change in her face. She dangled a +little chain upon her finger, and tapped the ground with her foot as she +sat. That was all. + +"I am not come here to wrangle with you about your slaves. They will +obey me without wrangling. I met Zoroaster in the gardens an hour +since." + +"By a previous arrangement, of course?" suggested Atossa, with a sneer. +But her clear blue eyes fixed themselves upon Nehushta with a strange +and deadly look. + +"Hold your peace and listen to me," said Nehushta in a fierce, low +voice, and her slender hand stole to the haft of the knife by her side. + +Atossa was a brave woman, false though she was; but she saw that the +Hebrew princess had her in her power--she saw the knife and she saw the +gleam in those black eyes. They were riveted on her face, and she grew +grave and remained silent. + +"Tell me the truth," pursued Nehushta hurriedly. "Did Zoroaster love you +three years ago--when I saw you in his arms upon the terrace the morning +when he came back from Ecbatana?" + +But she little knew the woman with whom she had to deal. Atossa had +found time in that brief moment to calculate her chances of safety. A +weaker woman would have lied; but the fair queen saw that the moment had +come wherein she could reap a rich harvest of vengeance upon her rival, +and she trusted to her coolness and strength to deliver her if Nehushta +actually drew the knife she wore. + +"I loved him," she said slowly. "I love him yet, and I hate you more +than I love him. Do you understand?" + +"Speak--go on!" cried Nehushta, half breathless with anger. + +"I loved him, and I hated you. I hate you still," repeated the queen +slowly and gravely. "The letter I had from him was written to you--but +it was brought to me. Nay--be not so angry, it was very long ago. Of +course you can murder me, if you please--you have me in your power, and +you are but a cowardly Jew, like twenty of my slave-women. I fear you +not. Perhaps you would like to hear the end?" + +Nehushta had come nearer and stood looking down at the beautiful woman, +her arms folded before her. Atossa never stirred as Nehushta approached, +but kept her eye steadily fixed on hers. Nehushta's arms were folded, +and the knife hung below her girdle in its loose sheath. + +Atossa's white arm went suddenly out and laid hold of the haft, and the +keen blue steel flashed out of its scabbard with a sheen like dark +lightning on a summer's evening. + +Nehushta started back as she saw the sharp weapon in her enemy's hand. +But Atossa laughed a low sweet laugh of triumph. + +"You shall hear the end now," she said, holding the knife firmly in her +hand. "You shall not escape hearing the end now, and you shall not +murder me with your Indian poisoner here." She laughed again as she +glanced at the ugly curve of the dagger. "I was talking with Zoroaster," +she continued, "when I saw you upon the stairs, and then--oh, it was so +sweet! I cried out that he should never leave me again, and I threw my +arms about his neck--his lordly neck that you so loved!--and I fell, so +that he had to hold me up. And you saw him. Oh, it was sweet! It was the +sweetest moment of my life when I heard you groan and hurry away and +leave us! It was to hurt you that I did it--that I humbled my +queenliness before him; but I loved him, though--and he, he your lover, +whom you despised then and cast away for this black-faced king of +ours--he thrust me from him, and pushed me off, and drove me weeping to +my chamber, and he said he loved me not, nor wished my love. Ay, that +was bitter, for I was ashamed--I who never was shamed of man or woman. +But there was more sweetness in your torment than bitterness in my +shame. He never knew you were there. He screamed out to you from the +crowd in the procession his parting curse on your unfaithfulness and +went out--but he nearly killed those two strong spearmen who tried to +seize him. How strong he was then, how brave! What a noble lover for any +woman! So tall and delicate and fair with all his strength! He never +knew why you left him--he thought it was to wear the king's purple, to +thrust a bit of gold in your hair! He must have suffered--you have +suffered too--such delicious torture, I have often soothed myself to +sleep with the thought of it. It is very sweet for me to see you lying +there with my wound in your heart. It will rankle long; you cannot get +it out--you are married to the king now, and Zoroaster has turned priest +for love of you. I think even the king would hardly love you if he could +see you now--you look so pale. I will send for the Chaldean +physician--you might die. I should be sorry if you died, you could not +suffer any more then. I could not give up the pleasure of hurting +you--you have no idea how delicious it is. Oh, how I hate you!" + +Atossa rose suddenly to her feet, with flashing eyes. Nehushta, in sheer +horror of such hideous cruelty, had fallen back against the door-post, +and stood grasping the curtain with one hand while the other was pressed +to her heart, as though to control the desperate agony she suffered. Her +face was paler than the dead, and her long, black hair fell forward over +her ghastly cheeks. + +"Shall I tell you more?" Atossa began again. "Should you like to hear +more of the truth? I could tell you how the king----" + +But as she spoke, Nehushta threw up her hands and pressed them to her +throbbing temples; and with a low wail, she turned and fled through the +doorway between the thick curtains, that parted with her weight and fell +together again when she had passed. + +"She will tell the king," said Atossa aloud, when she was gone. "I care +not--but I will keep the knife," she added, laying the keen blade upon +the table, amid the little instruments of her toilet. + +But Nehushta ran fast through the corridors and halls till she came to +her slaves who had waited for her at the entrance to the queen's +apartment. Then she seemed to recollect herself, and slackened her pace, +and went on to her own chambers. But, her women saw her pale face, and +whispered together as they cautiously followed her. + +She was wretched beyond all words. In a moment, her doubts and her fears +had all been realised, and the stain of unfaithfulness had been washed +from the memory of her lover. But it was too late to repent her +hastiness. She had been married to Darius now for nearly three years, +and Zoroaster was a man so changed that she would hardly have recognised +him that evening, had she not known that he was in the palace. He looked +more like the aged Daniel whom he had buried at Ecbatana than like the +lordly warrior of three years ago. She wondered, as she thought of the +sound of his voice in the, garden, how she could ever have doubted him, +and the remembrance of his clear eyes was both bitter and sweet to her. + +She lay upon her silken pillows and wept hot tears for him she had loved +long ago, for him and for herself--most of all for the pain she had +made him suffer, for that bitter agony that had turned his young, fair +locks to snowy white; she wept the tears for him that she could fancy he +must have shed in those long years for her. She buried her face and +sobbed aloud, so that even the black fan-girl who stood waving the long +palm-leaf over her in the dim light of the bedchamber--even the poor +black creature from the farther desert, whom her mistress did not half +believe human, felt pity for the royal sorrow she saw, and took one hand +from the fan to brush the tears from her small red eyes. + +Nehushta's heart was broken, and from that day none saw her smile. In +one hour the whole misery of all possible miseries came upon her, and +bowed her to the ground, and crushed out the life and the light of her +nature. As she lay there, she longed to die, as she had never longed for +anything while she lived, and she would have had small hesitation in +killing the heart that beat with such agonising pain in her breast--saving +that one thought prevented her. She cared not for revenge +any more. What was the life of that cold, cruel thing, the queen, worth, +that by taking it, she could gain comfort? But she felt and knew that, +before she died, she must see Zoroaster once more, and tell him that she +knew all the truth--that she knew he had not deceived her, and that she +implored his forgiveness for the wrong she had done him. He would let +her rest her head upon his breast and weep out her heartful of piteous +sorrow once before she died. And then--the quiet stream of the Araxes +flowed softly, cold and clear, among the rose-gardens below the +palace. The kindly water would take her to its bosom, beneath the +summer's moon, and the nightingales she loved would sing her a gentle +good-night--good-night for ever, while the cool wave flowed over her +weary breast and aching head. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +On the next day, in the cool of the evening, Nehushta walked again in +the garden. But Zoroaster was not there. And for several days Nehushta +came at that hour, and at other hours in the day, but found him not. She +saw him indeed from time to time in public, but she had no opportunity +of speaking with him as she desired. At last, she determined to send for +him, and to see whether he would come, or not. + +She went out, attended only by two slaves; the one bearing a fan and the +other a small carpet and a cushion--black women from the southern parts +of Syria, towards Egypt, who would not understand the high Persian she +would be likely to speak with Zoroaster, though her own Hebrew tongue +was intelligible to them. When she reached a quiet spot, where one of +the walks ended suddenly in a little circle among the rose-trees, far +down from the palace, she had her carpet spread, and her cushion was +placed upon it, and she wearily sat down. The fan-girl began to ply her +palm-leaf, as much to cool the heated summer air as to drive away the +swarms of tiny gnats which abounded in the garden. Nehushta rested upon +one elbow, her feet drawn together upon the carpet of dark soft colours +and waited a few minutes as though in thought. At last she seemed to +have decided, and turned to the slave who had brought her cushion, as +she stood at a little distance, motionless, her hands folded and hidden +under the thickness of the broad sash that girded her tunic at the +waist. + +"Go thou," said the queen, "and seek out the high priest Zoroaster, and +bring him hither quickly." + +The black woman turned and ran like a deer down the narrow path, +disappearing in a moment amongst the shrubbery. + +The breeze of the swinging fan blew softly on Nehushta's pale face and +stirred the locks of heavy hair that fell from her tiara about her +shoulders. Her eyes were half closed as she leaned back, and her lips +were parted in a weary look of weakness that was new to her. Nearly an +hour passed and the sun sank low, but Nehushta hardly stirred from her +position. + +It seemed very long before she heard steps upon the walk--the quick soft +step of the slave-woman running before, barefooted and fleet, and +presently the heavier tread of a man's leather shoe. The slave stopped +at the entrance to the little circle of rose-trees, and a moment later, +Zoroaster strode forward, and stood still and made a deep obeisance, a +few steps from Nehushta. + +"Forgive me that I sent for thee, Zoroaster," said the queen in quiet +tones. But, as she spoke, a slight blush overspread her face, and +relieved her deadly pallor. "Forgive me--I have somewhat to say which +thou must hear." + +Zoroaster remained standing before her as she spoke, and his luminous +eyes rested upon her quietly. + +"I wronged thee three years ago, Zoroaster," said the queen in a low +voice, but looking up at him. "I pray thee, forgive me--I knew not what +I did." + +"I forgave thee long ago," answered the high priest. + +"I did thee a bitter wrong--but the wrong I did myself was even greater. +I never knew till I went and asked--her!" At the thought of Atossa, the +Hebrew woman's eyes flashed fire, and her small fingers clenched upon +her palm. But, in an instant, her sad, weary look returned. + +"That is all--if you forgive me," she said, and turned her head away. It +seemed to her that there was nothing more to be said. He did not love +her--he was far beyond love. + +"Now, by Ahura Mazda, I have indeed forgiven thee. The blessing of the +All-Wise be upon thee!" Zoroaster bent again, as though to take his +leave, and he would have gone from her. + +But when she heard his first footsteps, Nehushta raised herself a little +and turned quickly towards him. It seemed as though the only light she +knew were departing from her day. + +"You loved me once," she said, and stopped, with an appealing look on +her pale face. It was very, weak of her; but oh! she was far spent with +sorrow and grief. Zoroaster paused, and looked back upon her, very +calmly, very gently. + +"Ay--I loved you once--but not now. There is no more love in the earth +for me. But I bless you for the love you gave me." + +"I loved you so well," said Nehushta. "I love you still," she added, +suddenly raising herself and gazing on him with a wild look in her eyes. +"Oh, I love you still!" she cried passionately. "I thought I had put you +away--forgotten you--trodden out your memory that I so hated I could not +bear to hear your name! Ah! why did I do it, miserable woman that I am! +I love you now--I love you--I love you with my whole heart--and it is +too late!" She fell back upon her cushion, and covered her face with +her hands, and her breast heaved with passionate, tearless sobbing. + +Zoroaster stood still, and a deep melancholy came over his beautiful, +ethereal face. No regret stirred his breast, no touch of the love that +had been waked his heart that slept for ever in the peace of the higher +life. He would not have changed from himself to the young lover of three +years ago, if he had been able. But he stood calm and sorrowful, as an +angel from heaven gazing on the grief of the world--his thoughts full +of sympathy for the pains of men, his soul still breathing the painless +peace of the outer firmament whence he had come and whither he would +return. + +"Nehushta," he said at last, seeing that her sobbing did not cease, "it +is not meet that you should thus weep for anything that is past. Be +comforted; the years of life are few, and you are one of the great ones +of the earth. It is needful that all should suffer. Forget not that +although your heart be heavy, you are a queen, and must bear yourself as +a queen. Take your life strongly in your hands and live it. The end is +not far and your peace is at hand." + +Nehushta looked up suddenly and grew very grave as he spoke. Her heavy +eyes rested on his, and she sighed--but the sigh was still broken, by +the trembling of her past sobs. + +"You, who are a priest and a prophet," she said,--"you, who read the +heaven as it were a book--tell me, Zoroaster, is it not far? Shall we +meet beyond the stars, as you used to tell me--so long ago?" + +"It is not far," he answered, and a gentle smile illuminated his pale +face. "Take courage--for truly it is not far." + +He gazed into her eyes for a moment, and it seemed as though some of +that steadfast light penetrated into her soul, for as he turned and went +his way among the roses, a look of peace descended on her tired face, +and she fell back upon her cushion and closed her eyes, and let the +breeze of the palm-fan play over her wan cheeks and through her heavy +hair. + +But Zoroaster returned into the palace, and he was very thoughtful. He +had many duties to perform, besides the daily evening sacrifice in the +temple, for Darius consulted him constantly upon many matters connected +with the state; and on every occasion Zoroaster's keen foresight and +knowledge of men found constant exercise in the development of the laws +and statutes Darius was forming for his consolidated kingdom. First of +all, the question of religion seemed to him of paramount importance; and +here Zoroaster displayed all his great powers of organisation, as well +as the true and just ideas he held upon the subject. Himself an ascetic +mystic, he foresaw the danger to others of attempting to pursue the same +course, or even of founding a system of mystical study. The object of +mankind must be the welfare of mankind, and a set of priests who should +shut themselves off from their fellow-men to pursue esoteric studies and +to acquire knowledge beyond the reach of common humanity, must +necessarily forget humanity itself in their effort to escape from it. +The only possible scheme upon which a religion for the world could be +based--especially for such a world as the empire of Darius--must be one +where the broad principle of common good living stood foremost, and +where the good of all humanity should be the good of each man's soul. + +The vast influence of Zoroaster's name grew day by day, as from the +palace of Stakhar he sent forth priests to the various provinces, full +of his own ideas, bearing with them a simple form of worship and a rigid +rule of life, which the iron laws of Darius began at once to enforce to +the letter. The vast body of existing hymns, of which many were by no +means distinctly Mazdayashnian, were reduced to a limited number +containing the best and purest; and the multifarious mass of conflicting +caste practices, partly imported from India, and partly inherited by the +pure Persians from the Aryan home in Sogdiana, was simplified and +reduced to a plain rule. The endless rules of purification were cut down +to simple measures of health; the varying practices in regard to the +disposal of the dead were all done away with by a great royal edict +commanding the building of Dakhmas, or towers of death, all over the +kingdom; within which the dead were laid by persons appointed for the +purpose, and which were cleansed by them, at stated intervals. Severe +measures were taken to prevent the destruction of cattle, for there were +evident signs of the decrease of the beasts of the field in consequence +of the many internal wars that had waged of late; and special laws were +provided for the safety of dogs, which were regarded, for all reasons, +as the most valuable companions of men in those times, as a means of +protection to the flocks in the wilderness, and as the scavengers and +cleansers of the great cities. Human life was protected by the most +rigorous laws, and the utmost attention was given to providing for the +treatment of women of all classes. It would have been impossible to +conceive a system better fitted to develop the resources of a +semi-pastoral country, to preserve peace and to provide for the +increasing wants and the public health of a multiplying people. + +As for the religious rites, they assumed a form and a character which +made them seem like simplicity itself by the side of the former systems; +and which, although somewhat complicated by the additions and +alterations of a later and more superstitious, generation, have still +maintained the noble and honourable characteristics imparted to them by +the great reformer and compiler of the Mazdayashnian religion. + +The days flew quickly by, and Zoroaster's power grew apace. It was as +though the whole court and kingdom had been but waiting for him to come +and be the representative of wisdom and justice beside the conquering +king, who had in so short a time reduced so many revolutions and fought +so many fields in the consolidation of his empire. Zoroaster laid hold +of all the existing difficulties with a master-hand. His years of +retirement seemed to have given him the accumulated force of many men, +and the effect of his wise measures was quickly felt in every quarter of +the provinces; while his words went forth like fire in the mouths of the +priests he sent from Stakhar. He had that strange and rare gift, whereby +a man inspires in his followers the profoundest confidence and the +greatest energy to the performance of his will. He would have overthrown +a world had he found himself resisted and oppressed, but every one of +his statutes and utterances was backed by the royal arms and enforced by +decrees against which there was no appeal. In a few months his name was +spoken wherever the Persian rule was felt, and spoken everywhere with a +high reverence; in which there was no fear mixed, such as people felt +when they mentioned the Great King, and added quickly: "May he live for +ever!" + +In a few months the reform was complete, and the half-clad ascetic had +risen by his own wisdom and by the power of circumstances into the +chiefest position in all Persia. Loaded with dignities, treated as the +next to the Great King in all things, wearing the royal chain of office +over his white priest's robes, and sitting at the right hand of Darius +at the feast, Zoroaster nevertheless excited no envy among the +courtiers, nor encroached in any way upon their privileges. The few men +whom Darius trusted were indeed rarely at Stakhar,--the princes who had +conspired against Smerdis, and Hydarnes and a few of the chief officers +of the army,--they were mostly in the various provinces, in command of +troops and fortresses, actively employed in enforcing the measures the +king was framing with Zoroaster, and which were to work such great +changes in the destinies of the empire. But when any of the princes or +generals were summoned to the court by the king and learned to know what +manner of man this Zoroaster was, they began to love him and to honour +him also, as all those did who were near him. And they went away, saying +that never king had so wise and just a counsellor as he was, nor one so +worthy of trust in the smallest as in the greatest things. + +But the two queens watched him, and watched his growing power, with +different feelings. Nehushta scarcely ever spoke to him, but gazed at +him from her sad eyes when none saw her; pondering over his prophecy +that foretold the end so near at hand. She had a pride in seeing her old +lover the strongest in the whole land, holding the destinies of the +kingdom as in a balance; and it was a secret consolation to her to know +that he had been faithful to her after all, and that it was for her sake +that he had withdrawn into the desert and given himself to those +meditations from which he had only issued to enjoy the highest power. +And as she looked at him, she saw how he was much changed, and it hardly +seemed as though in his body he were the same man she had so loved. Only +when he spoke, and she heard the even, musical tones of his commanding +voice, she sometimes felt the blood rise to her cheeks with the longing +to hear once more some word of tender love, such as he had been used to +speak to her. But though he often looked at her and greeted her ever +kindly, his quiet, luminous eyes changed not when they gazed on her, nor +was there any warmer touch of colour in the waxen whiteness of his face. +His youth was utterly gone, as the golden light had faded from his hair. +He was not like an old man--he was hardly like a man at all; but rather +like some beautiful, strange angel from another world, who moved among +men and spoke with them, but was not of them. She seemed to look upon a +memory, to love the shadow cast on earth by a being that was gone. But +she loved the memory and the shadow well, and month by month, as she +gazed, she grew more wan and weary. + +It would not have been like Darius to take any notice of a trouble that +did not present itself palpably before him and demand his attention. +Nehushta scarcely ever spoke of Zoroaster, and when the king mentioned +him to her, it was always in connection with affairs of state. She +seemed cold and indifferent, and the hot-blooded soldier monarch no +longer looked on Zoroaster as a possible rival. He had white hair--he +was therefore an old man, out of all questions of love. But Darius was +glad that the Hebrew queen never referred to former times, nor ever +seemed to regret her old lover. Had he known of that night meeting in +Atossa's toilet chamber, and of what Atossa had said then, his fury +would probably have had no bounds. But he never knew. Nehushta was too +utterly broken-hearted by the blow she had received to desire vengeance, +and though she quietly scorned all intercourse with the woman who had +injured her, she cared not to tell the king of the injury. It was too +late. Had she known of the cruel deception that had been practised on +her, one hour before she had married Darius, Atossa would have been in +her grave these three years, and Nehushta would not have been queen. But +the king knew none of these things, and rejoiced daily in the wisdom of +his chief counsellor and in the favour Auramazda had shown in sending +him such a man in his need. + +Meanwhile, Atossa's hatred grew apace. She saw with anger that her power +of tormenting Nehushta was gone from her, that the spirit she had loved +to torture was broken beyond all sensibility, and that the man who had +scorned her love was grown greater than she. Against his wisdom and the +king's activity, she could do little, and her strength seemed to spend +itself in vain. Darius laughed mercilessly at her cunning objections to +Zoroaster's reforms; and Zoroaster himself eyed hear coldly, and passed +her by in silence when they met. + +She bethought herself of some scheme whereby to destroy Zoroaster's +power by a sudden and violent shock; and for a time, she affected at +more than usual serenity of manner, and her smile was sweeter than ever. +If it were possible, she thought, to attract the king's attention and +forces to some distant point, it would not be a difficult matter to +produce a sudden rising or disturbance in Stakhar, situated as the place +was upon the very extreme border of the kingdom, within a few hours' +march across the hills from the uncivilised desert country, which was +infested at that time with hostile and turbulent tribes. She had a +certain number of faithful retainers at her command still, whom she +could employ as emissaries in both directions, and in spite of the scene +that had taken place at Shushan when Phraortes was brought to her by the +king, she knew she could still command his services for a revolution. +He was a Magian at heart, and hated the existing monarchy. He was rich +and powerful, and unboundedly vain--he could easily be prevailed upon to +accept the principality of Media as a reward for helping to destroy the +Persian kingdom; and indeed the matter had been discussed between him +and the queen long ago. + +Atossa revolved her scheme in her mind most carefully for two whole +months, and at last she resolved to act. Eluding all vigilance of the +king, and laughing to herself at the folly of Darius and Zoroaster in +allowing her such liberty, she succeeded without much trouble in +despatching a letter to Phraortes, inquiring whether her affairs were +now in such a prosperous condition as to admit of their being extended. + +On the other hand, she sent a black slave she owned, with gifts, into +the country of the barbarian tribes beyond the hills, to discover +whether they could be easily tempted. This man she bribed with the +promise of freedom and rich possessions, to undertake the dangerous +mission. She knew him to be faithful, and able to perform the part he +was to play. + +In less than two months Phraortes sent a reply, wherein he stated that +the queen's affairs were so prosperous that they might with safety be +extended as she desired, and that he was ready to undertake any +improvements provided she sent him the necessary directions and +instructions. + +The slave returned from the land of the dwellers in tents, with the +information that they were numerous as the sands of the sea, riding like +the whirlwinds across the desert, keen as a race of eagles for prey, +devouring as locusts spreading over a field of corn, and greedy as +jackals upon the track of a wounded antelope. Nothing but the terror of +the Great King's name restrained them within their boundaries; which +they would leave at a moment's notice, as allies of any one who would +pay them. They dwelt mostly beyond the desert to eastward in the low +hill country; and they shaved their beards and slept with their horses +in their tents. They were more horrible to look upon than the devils of +the mountains, and fiercer than wolves upon the mountain paths. + +Allowing for the imagery of her slave's account, Atossa comprehended +that the people described could be easily excited to make a hostile +descent upon the southern part of the kingdom, and notably upon the +unprotected region about Stakhar, where the fortress could afford +shelter to a handful of troops and fugitives, but could in no wise +defend the whole of the fertile district from a hostile incursion. + +Atossa spent much time in calculating the distance from the palace to +the fortress, and she came to the conclusion that a body of persons +moving with some encumbrance might easily reach the stronghold in half a +day. Her plan was a simple one, and easy of execution; though there was +no limit to the evil results its success might have upon the kingdom. + +She intended that a revolution should break out in Media, not under the +leadership of Phraortes, lest she herself should perish, having been +already suspected of complicity with him. But a man could be found--some +tool of her powerful agent, who could be readily induced to set himself +up as a pretender to the principality of the province, and he could +easily be crushed at a later period by Phraortes, who would naturally +furnish the money and supplies for the insurrection. + +As soon as the news reached Stakhar, Darius would, in all probability, +set out for Media in haste to arrive at the scene of the disturbance. He +would probably leave Zoroaster behind to manage the affairs of state, +which had centred in Stakhar during the last year and more. If, however, +he took him with him, and left the court to follow on as far as Shushan, +Atossa could easily cause an incursion of the barbarous tribes from the +desert. The people of the south would find themselves abandoned by the +king, and would rise against him, and Atossa could easily seize the +power. If Zoroaster remained behind, the best plan would be to let the +barbarians take their own course and destroy him. Separated from any +armed force of magnitude sufficient to cope with a sudden invasion, he +would surely fall in the struggle, or take refuge in an ignominious +flight. With the boldness of her nature, Atossa trusted to circumstances +to provide her with an easy escape for herself; and in the last +instance, she trusted, as she had ever done, to her marvellous beauty to +save her from harm. To her beauty alone she owed her escape from many a +fit of murderous anger in the time of Cambyses, and to her beauty she +owed her salvation when Darius found her at Shushan, the wife and +accomplice of the impostor Smerdis. She might again save herself by that +means, if by no other, should she, by any mischance, fall into the hands +of the barbarians. But she was determined to overthrow Zoroaster, even +if she had to destroy her husband's kingdom in the effort. It was a bold +and simple plan, and she doubted not of being successful. + +During the months while she was planning these things, she was very calm +and placid; her eyes met Zoroaster's with a frank and friendly glance +that would have disarmed one less completely convinced of her badness; +and her smile never failed the king when he looked for it. She bore his +jests with unfailing equanimity and gentleness, for she felt that she +should not have to bear them long. Even to Nehushta she gave an +occasional glance as though of hurt sympathy--a look that seemed to say +to the world that she regretted the Hebrew queen's sullen temper and +moody ways, so different from her own, but regarded them all the while +as the outward manifestation of some sickness, for which she was to be +pitied rather than blamed. + +But, as the time sped, her heart grew more and more glad, for the end +was at hand, and there was a smell of death in the air of the sweet +rose-valley. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +Once more the spring months had come, and the fields grew green and the +trees put forth their leaves. Four years had passed since Daniel had +died in Ecbatana, leaving his legacy of wisdom to Zoroaster; and almost +a year had gone by since Zoroaster had returned to the court at +Stakhar. The time had sped very swiftly, except for Nehushta, whose life +was heavy with a great weariness and her eyes hollow with suffering +sleeplessness. She was not always the same, saving that she was always +unhappy. There were days when she was resigned to her lot and merely +hoped that it would soon be over; and she wondered how it was that she +did not slip out of the gardens at evening, and go and sink her care and +her great sorrow in the cool waves of the Araxes, far down below. But +then the thought came over her that she must see his face once more; and +it was always once more, so that the last time never came. And again, +there were days when she hoped all things, madly, indiscriminately, +without sequence--the king might die, Zoroaster might again love her, +all might be well. But the mood of a hope that is senseless is very +fleet, and despair follows close in its footsteps. Nehushta grew each +time more sad, as she grew more certain that for her there was no hope. + +At least it seemed as though Atossa had given up loving Zoroaster and +thought no more of him than of another. Indeed Atossa seemed more +anxious to please the king than formerly, in proportion as Darius seemed +less easily pleased by her. But over all, Zoroaster's supremacy was felt +in the palace, and though he was never known to be angry with any one, +he was more feared than the fierce king himself, for his calm clear eyes +were hard to meet and the words that fell from his lips had in them the +ring of fate. Moreover, he was known and his power was dreaded from one +end of the kingdom to the other, and his name was like the king's +signet, which sealed all things, and there was no appeal. + +Upon a fair morning in the spring-time, when the sun was shining outside +upon the roses still wet with dew, the king sat in an inner hall, half +lying upon a broad couch, on which the warm rays of the sun fell through +an upper window. He was watching with absorbed attention the tricks of +an Indian juggler who had lately arrived at the court, and whom he had +summoned that morning to amuse a leisure hour, for when the king was not +actively engaged in business, or fighting, he loved some amusement, +being of a restless temper and mind that needed constant occupation. + +Atossa sat near him, upon a carved chair, turning over and over in her +fingers a string of pearls as she gazed at the performances of the +juggler. Two spearmen, clad in blue and scarlet and gold, stood +motionless by the door, and Darius and Atossa watched the sleight-handed +Indian alone. + +The man tossed a knife into the air and caught it, then two, then three, +increasing the number in rapid succession till a score of bright blades +made a shining circle in the air as he quickly tossed them up and passed +them from hand to hand and tossed them again. Darius laughed at the +man's skill, and looked up at the queen. + +"You remind me of that fellow," said Darius. + +"The king is very gracious to his handmaiden," answered Atossa, smiling, +"I think I am less skilful, but more fair." + +"You are fairer, it is true," returned the king; "but as for your skill, +I know not. You seem always to be playing with knives, but you never +wound yourself any more than he does." + +The queen looked keenly at Darius, but her lips smiled gently. The +thought crossed her mind that the king perhaps knew something of what +had passed between her and Nehushta nearly a year before, with regard to +a certain Indian dagger. The knives the juggler tossed in the air +reminded her of it by their shape. But the king laughed gaily and she +answered without hesitation: + +"I would it were true, for then I could be not only the king's wife, but +the king's juggler!" + +"I meant not so," laughed Darius. "The two would hardly suit one +another." + +"And yet, I need more skill than this Indian fellow, to be the king's +wife," answered the queen slowly. + +"Said I not so?" + +"Nay--but you meant not so," replied Atossa, looking down. + +"What I say, I mean," he returned. "You need all the fairness of your +face to conceal the evil in your heart, as this man needs all his skill +in handling those sharp knives, that would cut off his fingers if, +unawares, he touched the wrong edge of them." + +"I conceal nothing," said the queen, with a light laugh. "The king has +a thousand eyes--how should I conceal anything from him?" + +"That is a question which I constantly ask myself," answered Darius. +"And yet, I often think I know your thoughts less well than those of the +black girl who fans you when you are hot, and whose attention is +honestly concentrated upon keeping the flies from your face--or of +yonder stolid spearmen at the door, who watch us, and honestly wish they +were kings and queens, to lie all day upon a silken couch, and watch the +tricks of a paid conjurer." + +As Darius spoke, the guards he glanced at turned suddenly and faced each +other, standing on each side of the doorway, and brought their heavy +spears to the ground with a ringing noise. In a moment the tall, thin +figure of Zoroaster, in his white robes, appeared between them. He +stopped respectfully at the threshold, waiting for the king to notice +him, for, in spite of his power and high rank, he chose to maintain +rigidly the formalities of the court. + +Darius made a sign and the juggler caught his whirling knives, one after +the other, and thrust them into his bag, and withdrew. + +"Hail, Zoroaster!" said the king. "Come near and sit beside me, and tell +me your business." + +Zoroaster came forward and made a salutation, but he remained standing, +as though the matter on which he came were urgent. + +"Hail, king, and live for ever!" he said. "I am a bearer of evil news. A +rider has come speeding from Ecbatana, escaped from the confusion. Media +has revolted, and the king's guards are besieged within the fortress of +Ecbatana." + +Darius sat upright upon the edge of his couch; the knotted veins upon +his temples swelled with sudden anger and his brow flushed darkly. + +"Doubtless it is Phraortes who has set himself up as king," he said. +Then, suddenly and fiercely, he turned upon Atossa. "Now is your hour +come," he cried in uncontrollable anger. "You shall surely die this day, +for you have done this, and the powers of evil shall have your soul, +which is of them, and of none other." + +Atossa, for the first time in her whole life, turned pale to the lips +and trembled, for she already seemed to taste death in the air. But even +then, her boldness did not desert her, and she rose to her feet with a +stateliness and a calmness that almost awed the king's anger to silence. + +"Slay me if thou wilt," she said in a low voice, but firmly. "I am +innocent of this deed." The great lie fell from her lips with a calmness +that a martyr might have envied. But Zoroaster stepped between her and +the king. As he passed her, his clear, calm eyes met hers for a moment. +He read in her face the fear of death, and he pitied her. + +"Let the king hear me," he said. "It is not Phraortes who has headed the +revolt, and it is told me that Phraortes has fled from Ecbatana. Let the +king send forth his armies and subdue the rebels, and let this woman go; +for the fear of death is upon her and it may be that she has not sinned +in this matter. And if she have indeed sinned, will the king make war +upon women, or redden his hands with the blood of his own wife?" + +"You speak as a priest--I feel as a man," returned the king, savagely. +"This woman has deserved death many times--let her die. So shall we be +free of her." + +"It is not lawful to do this thing," returned Zoroaster coldly, and his +glance rested upon the angry face of Darius, as he spoke, and seemed to +subdue his furious wrath. "The king cannot know whether she have +deserved death or not, until he have the rebels of Ecbatana before him. +Moreover, the blood of a woman is a perpetual shame to the man who has +shed it." + +The king seemed to waver, and Atossa, who watched him keenly, understood +that the moment had come in which she might herself make an appeal to +him. In the suddenness of the situation she had time to ask herself why +Zoroaster, whom she had so bitterly injured, should intercede for her. +She could not understand his nobility of soul, and she feared some trap, +into which she should fall by and by. But, meanwhile, she chose to +appeal to the king's mercy herself, lest she should feel that she owed +her preservation wholly to Zoroaster. It was a bold thought, worthy of a +woman of her strength, in a moment of supreme danger. + +With a quick movement she tore the tiara from her head and let it fall +upon the floor. The mass of her silken hair fell all about her like a +vesture of gold, and she threw herself at the king's feet, embracing his +knees with a passionate gesture of appeal. Her face was very pale, and +the beauty of it seemed to grow by the unnatural lack of colour, while +her soft blue eyes looked up into the king's face with such an +expression of imploring supplication that he was fain to acknowledge to +himself that she moved his heart, for she had never looked so fair +before. She spoke no word, but held his knees, and as she gazed, two +beautiful great tears rolled slowly from under her eyelids, and trembled +upon her pale, soft cheeks, and her warm, quick breath went up to his +face. + +Darius tried to push her from him, but she would not go, and he was +forced to look at her, and his anger melted, and he smiled somewhat +grimly, though his brows were bent. + +"Go to," he said, "I jested. It is impossible for a man to slay anything +so beautiful as you." + +Atossa's colour returned to her cheeks, and bending down, she kissed the +king's knees and his hands, and her golden hair fell all about her and +upon the king's lap. But Darius rose impatiently, and left her kneeling +by the couch. He was already angry with himself for having forgiven her, +and he hated his own weakness bitterly. + +"I will myself go hence at once with the guards, and I will take half +the force from the fortress of Stakhar and go to Shushan, and thence, +with the army that is there, I will be in Ecbatana in a few days. And I +will utterly crush out these rebels who speak lies and do not +acknowledge me. Remain here, Zoroaster, and govern this province until I +return in triumph." + +Darius glanced once more at Atossa, who lay by the couch, half upon it +and half upon the floor, seemingly dazed at what had occurred; and then +he turned upon his heel and strode out of the room between the two +spearmen of the guard, who raised their weapons as he passed, and +followed him with a quick, rhythmical tread down the broad corridor +outside. + +Zoroaster was left alone with the queen. + +As soon as Darius was gone, Atossa rose to her feet, and with all +possible calmness proceeded to rearrange her disordered hair and to +place her head-dress upon her head. Zoroaster stood and watched her; her +hand trembled a little, but she seemed otherwise unmoved by what had +occurred. She glanced up at him from under her eyelids as she stood with +her head bent down and her hands raised, to arrange her hair. + +"Why did you beg the king to spare my life?" she asked. "You, of all +men, must wish me dead." + +"I do not wish you dead," he answered coldly. "You have yet much evil to +do in the world, but it will not be all evil. Neither did I need to +intercede for you. Your time is not come, and though the king's hand +were raised to strike you, it would not fall upon you, for you are fated +to accomplish many things." + +"Do you not hate me, Zoroaster?" + +It was one of the queen's chief characteristics that she never attempted +concealment when it could be of no use, and in such cases affected an +almost brutal frankness. She almost laughed as she asked the +question--it seemed so foolish, and yet she asked it. + +"I do not hate you," answered the priest. "You are beneath hatred." + +"And I presume you are far above it?" she said very scornfully, and eyed +him in silence for a moment. "You are a poor creature," she pursued, +presently. "I heartily despise you. You suffered yourself to be deceived +by a mere trick; you let the woman you loved go from you without an +effort to keep her. You might have been a queen's lover, and you +despised her. And now, when you could have the woman who did you a +mortal injury be led forth to death before your eyes, you interceded for +her and saved her life. You are a fool. I despise you." + +"I rejoice that you do," returned Zoroaster coldly. "I would not have +your admiration, if I might be paid for receiving it with the whole +world and the wisdom thereof." + +"Not even if you might have for your wife the woman you loved in your +poor, insipid way--but you loved her nevertheless? She is pale and +sorrowful, poor creature; she haunts the gardens like the shadow of +death; she wearies the king with her wan face. She is eating her heart +out for you--the king took her from you, you could take her from him +to-morrow, if you pleased. The greater your folly, because you do not. +As for her, her foolishness is such that she would follow you to the +ends of the earth--poor girl! she little knows what a pale, wretched, +sapless thing you have in your breast for a heart." + +But Zoroaster gazed calmly at the queen in quiet scorn at her scoffing. + +"Think you that the sun is obscured, because you can draw yonder curtain +before your window and keep out his rays?" he asked. "Think you that the +children of light feel pain because the children of darkness say in +their ignorance that there is no light?" + +"You speak in parables--having nothing plain to say," returned the +queen, thrusting a golden pin through her hair at the back and through +the folds of her linen tiara. But she felt Zoroaster's eyes upon her, +and looking up, she was fascinated by the strange light in them. She +strove to look away from him, but could not. Suddenly her heart sank +within her. She had heard of Indian charmers and of Chaldean +necromancers and wise men, who could perform wonders and slay their +enemies with a glance. She struggled to take her eyes from his, but it +was of no use. The subtle power of the universal agent had got hold upon +her, and she was riveted to the spot so long as he kept his eyes upon +her. He spoke again, and his voice seemed to come to her with a +deafening metallic force, as though it vibrated to her very brain. + +"You may scoff at me; shield yourself from me, if you can," said +Zoroaster. "Lift one hand, if you are able--make one step from me, if +you have the strength. You cannot; you are altogether in my power. If I +would, I could kill you as you stand, and there would be no mark of +violence upon you, that a man should be able to say you were slain. You +boast of your strength and power. See, you follow the motion of my hand, +as a dog would. See, you kneel before me, and prostrate yourself in the +dust at my feet, at my bidding. Lie there, and think well whether you +are able to scoff any more. You kneeled to the king of your own will; +you kneel to me at mine, and though you had the strength of a hundred +men, you must kneel there till I bid you rise." + +The queen was wholly under the influence of the terrible power +Zoroaster possessed. She was no more able to resist his will than a +drowning man can resist the swift torrent that bears him down to his +death. She lay at the priest's feet, helpless and nerveless. He gazed at +her for a moment as she crouched before him. + +"Rise," he said, "go your way, and remember me." + +Relieved from the force of the subtle influence he projected, Atossa +sprang to her feet and staggered back a few paces, till she fell upon +the couch. + +"What manner of man art thou?" she said, staring wildly before her, as +though recovering from some heavy blow that had stunned her. + +But she saw Zoroaster's white robes disappear through the door, even +while the words were on her lips, and she sank back in stupefaction upon +the cushions of the couch. + +Meanwhile the trumpets sounded in the courts of the palace and the +guards were marshalled out at the king's command. Messengers mounted and +rode furiously up the valley to the fortress, to warn the troops there +to make ready for the march; and before the sun reached the meridian, +Darius was on horseback, in his armour, at the foot of the great +staircase. The blazing noonday light shone upon his polished helmet and +on the golden wings that stood out on either side of it, and the hot +rays were sent flashing back from his gilded harness, and from the broad +scales of his horse's armour. + +The slaves of the palace stood in long ranks before the columns of the +portico and upon the broad stairs on each side, and Zoroaster stood on +the lowest step, attended by a score of his priests, to receive the +king's last instructions. + +"I go forth, and in two months I will return in triumph," said Darius. +"Meanwhile keep thou the government in thy hand, and let not the laws be +relaxed because the king is not here. Let the sacrifice be performed +daily in the temple, and let all things proceed as though I myself were +present. I will not that petty strifes arise because I am away. There +shall be peace--peace--peace forever throughout my kingdom, though I +shed much blood to obtain it. And all the people who are evildoers and +makers of strife and sedition shall tremble at the name of Darius, the +king of kings, and of Zoroaster, the high priest of the All-Wise. In +peace I leave you, to cause peace whither I go; and in peace I will come +again to you. Farewell, Zoroaster, truest friend and wisest counsellor; +in thy keeping I leave all things. Take thou the signet and bear it +wisely till I come." + +Zoroaster received the royal ring and bowed a low obeisance. Then Darius +pressed his knees to his horse's sides and the noble steed sprang +forward upon the straight, broad road, like an arrow from a bow. The +mounted guards grasped their spears and gathered their bridles in their +hands and followed swiftly, four and four, shoulder to shoulder, and +knee to knee, their bronze cuirasses and polished helmets blazing in the +noonday sun and dashing as they galloped on; and in a moment there was +nothing seen of the royal guard but a tossing wave of light far up the +valley; and the white dust, that had risen, as they plunged forward, +settled slowly in the still, hot air upon the roses and shrubs that hung +over the enclosure of the garden at the foot of the broad staircase. + +Zoroaster gazed for a moment on the track of the swift warriors; then +went up the steps, followed by his priests, and entered the palace. + +Atossa and Nehushta had watched the departure of the king from their +upper windows, at the opposite ends of the building, from behind the +gilded lattices. Atossa had recovered somewhat from the astonishment and +fear that had taken possession of her when she had found herself under +Zoroaster's strange influence, and as she saw Darius ride away, while +Zoroaster remained standing upon the steps, her courage rose. She +resolved that nothing should induce her again to expose herself to the +chief priest's unearthly power, and she laughed to herself as she +thought that she might yet destroy him, and free herself from him for +ever. She wondered how she could ever have given a thought of love to +such a man, and she summoned her black slave, and sent him upon his last +errand, by which he was to obtain his freedom. + +But Nehushta gazed sadly after the galloping guards, and her eye strove +to distinguish the king's crest before the others, till all was mingled +in the distance, in an indiscriminate reflection of moving light, and +then lost to view altogether in the rising dust. Whether she loved him +truly, or loved him not, he had been true and kind to her, and had +rested his dark head upon her shoulder that very morning before he went, +and had told her that, of all living women, he loved her best. But she +had felt a quick sting of pain in her heart, because she knew that she +would give her life to lie for one short hour on Zoroaster's breast and +sob out all her sorrow and die. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +Four days after the king's departure, Nehushta was wandering in the +gardens as the sun was going down, according to her daily custom. There +was a place she loved well--a spot where the path widened to a circle, +round which the roses grew, thick and fragrant with the breath of the +coming summer, and soft green shrubs and climbing things that twisted +their tender arms about the myrtle trees. The hedge was so high that it +cut off all view of the gardens beyond, and only the black north-western +hills could just be seen above the mass of shrubbery; beyond the +mountains and all over the sky, the glow of the setting sun spread like +a rosy veil; and the light tinged the crests of the dark hills and +turned the myrtle leaves to a strange colour, and gilded the highest +roses to a deep red gold. + +The birds were all singing their evening song in loud, happy chorus, as +only Eastern birds can sing; the air was warm and still, and the tiny +gnats chased each other with lightning quickness in hazy swarms +overhead, in the reflected glow. + +Nehushta loved the little open space, for it was there that, a year ago, +she had sent for Zoroaster to come to her that she might tell him she +knew the truth at last. She stood still and listened to the singing of +the birds, gazing upwards at the glowing sky, where the red was fast +turning to purple; she breathed in the warm air and sighed softly; +wishing, as she wished every night, that the sunset might fade to +darkness, and there might be no morning for her any more. + +She had lived almost entirely alone since Darius had gone to Shushan; +she avoided Atossa, and she made no effort to see Zoroaster, who was +entirely absorbed by the management of the affairs of the state. In the +king's absence there were no banquets, as there used to be when he was +in the palace, and the two queens were free to lead whatever life seemed +best to them, independently of each other and of the courtiers. Atossa +had chosen to shut herself up in the seclusion of her own apartments, +and Nehushta rarely left her own part of the palace until the evening. +But when the sun was low, she loved to linger among the roses in the +garden, till the bright shield of the moon was high in the east, or till +the faint stars burned in their full splendour, and the nightingales +began to call and trill their melancholy song from end to end of the +sweet valley. + +So she stood on this evening, looking up into the sky, and her slaves +waited her pleasure at a little distance. But while she gazed, she heard +quick steps along the walk, and the slave-women sprang aside to let some +one pass. Nehushta turned and found herself face to face with Atossa, +who stood before her, wrapped in a dark mantle, a white veil of Indian +gauze wound about her head, and half-concealing her face. It was a year +since they had met in private, and Nehushta drew herself suddenly to her +height, and the old look of scorn came over her dark features. She would +have asked haughtily what brought Atossa there, but the fair queen was +first in her speech. There was hardly even the affectation of +friendliness in her tones, as she stood there alone and unattended, +facing her enemy. + +"I came to ask if you wished to go with me," said Atossa. + +"Where? Why should I go with you?" + +"I am weary of the palace. I think I will go to Shushan to be nearer the +king. To-night I will rest at the fortress." + +Nehushta stared coldly at the fair woman, muffled in her cloak and veil. + +"What is it to me whether you go to the ends of the earth, or whether +you remain here?" she asked. + +"I wished to know whether you desired to accompany me, else I should not +have asked you the question. I feared that you might be lonely here in +Stakhar--will you not come?" + +"Again I say, why do you ask me? What have I to do with you?" returned +Nehushta, drawing her mantle about her as though to leave Atossa. + +"If the king were here, he would bid you go," said Atossa, looking +intently upon her enemy. + +"It is for me to judge what the king would wish me to do--not for you. +Leave me in peace. Go your way if you will--it is nothing to me." + +"You will not come?" Atossa's voice softened and she smiled serenely. +Nehushta turned fiercely upon her. + +"No! If you are going--go! I want you not!" + +"You are glad I am going, are you not?" asked Atossa, gently. + +"I am glad--with a gladness only you can know. I would you were already +gone!" + +"You rejoice that I leave you alone with your lover. It is very +natural----" + +"My lover!" cried Nehushta, her wrath rising and blazing in her eyes. + +"Ay, your lover! the thin, white-haired priest, that once was +Zoroaster--your old lover--your poor old lover!" + +Nehushta steadied herself for a moment. She felt as though she must tear +this woman in pieces. But she controlled her anger by a great effort, +though she was nearly choking as she drew herself up and answered. + +"I would that the powers of evil, of whom you are, might strangle the +thrice-accursed lie in your false throat!" she said, in low fierce +tones, and turned away. + +Still Atossa stood there, smiling as ever. Nehushta looked back as she +reached the opposite end of the little plot. + +"Are you not yet gone? Shall I bid my slaves take you by the throat and +force you from me?" But, as she spoke, she looked beyond Atossa, and saw +that a body of dark men and women stood in the path. Atossa had not come +unprotected. + +"I see you are the same foolish woman you ever were," answered the older +queen. Just then, a strange sound echoed far off among the hills above, +strange and far as the scream of a distant vulture sailing its mate to +the carrion feast--an unearthly cry that rang high in the air from side +to side of the valley, and struck the dark crags and doubled in the +echo, and died away in short, faint pulsations of sound upon the +startled air. + +Nehushta started slightly. It might have been the cry of a wolf, or of +some wild beast prowling upon the heights, but she had never heard such +a sound before. But Atossa showed no surprise, and her smile returned +to her lips more sweetly than ever--those lips that had kissed three +kings, and that had never spoken truly a kind or a merciful word to +living man, or child, or woman. + +"Farewell, Nehushta," she said, "if you will not come, I will leave you +to yourself--and to your lover. I daresay he can protect you from harm. +Heard you that sound? It is the cry of your fate. Farewell, foolish +girl, and may every undreamed-of quality of evil attend you to your +dying day----" + +"Go!" cried Nehushta, turning and pointing to the path with a gesture of +terrible anger. Atossa moved back a little. + +"It is no wonder I linger awhile--I thought you were past suffering. If +I had time, I might yet find some way of tormenting you--you are very +foolish----" + +Nehushta walked rapidly forward upon her, as though to do her some +violence with her own hands. But Atossa, as she gave way before the +angry Hebrew woman, drew from beneath her mantle the Indian knife she +had once taken from her. Nehushta stopped short, as she saw the bright +blade thrust out against her bosom. But Atossa held it up one moment, +and then threw it down upon the grass at her feet. + +"Take it!" she cried, and in her voice, that had been so sweet and +gentle a moment before, there suddenly rang out a strange defiance and a +bitter wrath. "Take what is yours--I loathe it, for it smells of +you--and you, and all that is yours, I loathe and hate and scorn!" + +She turned with a quick movement and disappeared amongst her slaves, +who closed in their ranks behind her, and followed her rapidly down the +path. Nehushta remained standing upon the grass, peering after her +retreating enemy through the gloom; for the glow had faded from the +western sky while they had been speaking, and it was now dusk. + +Suddenly, as she stood, almost transfixed with the horror of her fearful +anger, that strange cry rang again through the lofty crags and crests of +the mountains, and echoed and died away. + +Nehushta's slave-women, who had hung back in fear and trembling during +the altercation between the two queens, came forward and gathered about +her. + +"What is it?" asked the queen in a low voice, for her own heart beat +with the anticipation of a sudden danger. "It is the cry of your fate," +Atossa had said--verily it sounded like the scream of a coming death. + +"It is the Druksh of the mountains!" said one. + +"It is the howling of wolves," said another, a Median woman from the +Zagros mountains. + +"The war-cry of the children of Anak is like that," said a little Syrian +maid, and her teeth chattered with fear. + +As they listened, crouching and pressing about their royal mistress in +their terror, they heard below in the road, the sound of horses and men +moving quickly past the foot of the gardens. It was Atossa and her +train, hurrying along the highway in the direction of the fortress. + +Nehushta suddenly pushed the slaves aside, and fled down the path +towards the palace, and the dark women hurried after. One of them +stooped and picked up the Indian knife and hid it in her bosom as she +ran. + +The whole truth had flashed across Nehushta's mind in an instant. Some +armed force was collecting upon the hills to descend in a body upon the +palace, to accomplish her destruction. Atossa had fled to a place of +safety, after enjoying the pleasure of tormenting her doomed enemy to +the last moment, well knowing that no power would induce Nehushta to +accompany her. But one thought filled Nehushta's mind in her +instantaneous comprehension of the truth; she must find Zoroaster, and +warn him of the danger. They would have time to fly together, yet. +Atossa must have known how to time her flight, since the plot was hers, +and she had not yet been many minutes upon the road. + +Through the garden she ran, and up the broad steps to the portico. +Slaves were moving about under the colonnade, leisurely lighting the +great torches that burned there all night. They had not heard the +strange cries from the hills; or, hearing only a faint echo, had paid no +attention to the sound. + +Nehushta paused, breathless with running. As she realised the quiet that +reigned in the palace, where the slaves went about their duties as +though nothing had occurred, or were likely to occur, it seemed to her +as though she must have been dreaming. It was impossible that if there +were any real danger, it should not have become known at least to some +one of the hundreds of slaves who thronged the outer halls and +corridors. Moreover there were numerous scribes and officers connected +with the government; some few nobles whom Darius had left behind when he +went to Shushan; there were their wives and families residing in various +parts, of the palace and in the buildings below it, and there was a +strong detachment of Persian guards. If there were danger, some one must +have known it. + +She did not know that at that moment the inhabitants of the lower palace +were already alarmed, while some were flying, leaving everything behind, +in their haste to reach the fortress higher up the valley. Everything +seemed quiet where she was, and she determined to go alone in search of +Zoroaster, without raising any alarm. Just as she entered the doorway of +the great hall, she heard the cry again echoing behind her through the +valley. It was as much as she could do to control the terror that again +took hold of her at the dreaded sound, as she passed the files of bowing +slaves, and went in between the two tall spearmen who guarded the inner +entrance, and grounded their spears with military precision as she went +by. + +She had one slave whom she trusted more than the rest. It was the little +Syrian maid, who was half a Hebrew. + +"Go," she said quickly, in her own tongue. "Go in one direction and I +will go in another, and search out Zoroaster, the high priest, and bring +him to my chamber. I also will search, but if I find him not, I will +wait for thee there." + +The dark girl turned and ran through the halls, swift as a startled +fawn, to fulfil her errand, and Nehushta went another way upon her +search. She was ashamed to ask for Zoroaster. The words of her enemy +were still ringing in her ears--"alone with your lover;" it might be the +common talk of the court for all she knew. She went silently on her way. +She knew where Zoroaster dwelt. The curtain of his simple chamber was +thrown aside and a faint light burned in the room. It was empty; a +scroll lay open upon the floor beside a purple cushion, as he had left +it, and his long white mantle lay tossed upon the couch which served him +for a bed. + +She gazed lovingly for one moment into the open chamber, and then went +on through the broad corridor, dimly lighted everywhere with small oil +lamps. She looked into the council chamber and it was deserted. The long +rows of double seats were empty, and gleamed faintly in the light. High +upon the dais at the end, a lamp burned above the carved chair of ivory +and gold, whereon the king sat when the council was assembled. There was +no one there. Farther on, the low entrance to the treasury was guarded +by four spearmen, whose arms clanged upon the floor as the queen passed. +But she saw that the massive bolts and the huge square locks upon them +were in their places. There was no one within. In the colonnade beyond, +a few nobles stood talking carelessly together, waiting for their +evening meal to be served them in a brightly illuminated hall, of which +the doors stood wide open to admit the cool air of the coming night. The +magnificently-arrayed courtiers made a low obeisance and then stood in +astonishment as the queen went by. She held up her head and nodded to +them, trying to look as though nothing disturbed her. + +On and on she went through the whole wing, till she came to her own +apartment. Not so much as one white-robed priest had she seen upon all +her long search. Zoroaster was certainly not in the portion of the +palace through, which she had come. Entering her own chambers, she +looked round for the little Syrian maid, but she had not returned. + +Unable to bear the suspense any longer, she hastily despatched a second +slave in search of the chief priest--a Median woman, who had been with +her in Ecbatana. + +It seemed as though the minutes were lengthened to hours. Nehushta sat +with her hands pressed to her temples, that throbbed as though the fever +would burst her brain, and the black fan-girl plied the palm-leaf with +all her might, thinking that her mistress suffered from the heat. The +other women she dismissed; and she sat waiting beneath the soft light of +the perfumed lamp, the very figure and incarnation of anxiety. + +Something within her told her that she was in great and imminent danger, +and the calm she had seen in the palace could not allay in her mind the +terror of that unearthly cry she had heard three times from the hills. +As she thought of it, she shuddered, and the icy fear seemed to run +through all her limbs, chilling the marrow in her bones, and freezing +her blood suddenly in its mad course. + +"Left alone with your lover"--"it is the cry of your fate"--Atossa's +words kept ringing in her ears like a knell--the knell of a shameful +death; and as she went over the bitter taunts of her enemy, her chilled +pulses beat again more feverishly than before. She could not bear to sit +still, but rose and paced the room in intense agitation. Would they +never come back, those dallying slave-women? + +The fan-girl tried to follow her mistress, and her small red eyes +watched cautiously every one of Nehushta's movements. But the queen +waved her off and the slave went and stood beside the chair where she +had sat, her fan hanging idly in her hand. At that moment, the Median +woman entered the chamber. + +"Where is he?" asked Nehushta, turning suddenly upon her. + +The woman made a low obeisance and answered in trembling tones: + +"They say that the high priest left the palace two hours ago, with the +queen Atossa. They say----" + +"Thou liest!" cried Nehushta vehemently, and her face turned white, as +she stamped her foot upon the black marble pavement. The woman sprang +back with a cry of terror, and ran towards the door. She had never seen +her mistress so angry. But Nehushta called her back. + +"Come hither--what else do they say?" she asked, controlling herself as +best she could. + +"They say that the wild riders of the eastern desert are descending from +the hills," answered the slave hurriedly and almost under her breath. +"Every one is flying--everything is in confusion--I hear them even now, +hurrying to and fro in the courts, the soldiers----" + +But, even as she spoke, an echo of distant voices and discordant cries +came through the curtains of the door from without, the rapid, uneven +tread of people running hither and thither in confusion, the loud voices +of startled men and the screams of frightened women--all blending +together in a wild roar that grew every moment louder. + +Just then, the little Syrian maid came running in, almost tearing the +curtains from their brazen rods as she thrust the hangings aside. She +came and fell breathless at Nehushta's feet and clasped her knees. + +"Fly, fly, beloved mistress," she cried, "the devils of the mountains +are upon us--they cover the hills--they are closing every entrance--the +people in the lower palace are all slain----" + +"Where is Zoroaster?" In the moment of supreme danger, Nehushta grew +calm, and her senses were restored to her again. + +"He is in the temple with the priests--by this time he is surely +slain--he could know of nothing that is going on--fly, fly!" cried the +poor Syrian girl in an agony of terror. + +Nehushta laid her hand kindly upon the head of the little maid, and +turning in the pride of her courage, now that she knew the worst, she +spoke calmly to the other slaves who thronged in from the outer hall, +some breathless with fear, others screaming in an agony of acute dread. + +"On which side are they coming?" she asked. + +"Prom the hills, from the hills they are descending in thousands," cried +half a dozen of the frightened women at once, the rest huddled together +like sheep, moaning in their fear. + +"Go you all to the farther window," cried Nehushta, in commanding tones. +"Leap down upon the balcony--it is scarce a man's height--follow it to +the end and past the corner where it joins the main wall of the garden. +Run along upon the wall till you find a place where you can descend. +Through the gardens you can easily reach the road by the northern gate. +Fly and save yourselves in the darkness. You will reach the fortress +before dawn if you hasten. You will hasten," she added with something of +disdain in her voice, for before she had half uttered her directions, +the last of the slave-women, mad with terror, disappeared through the +open window, and she could hear them drop, one after the other, in quick +succession upon the marble balcony below. She was alone. + +But, looking down, she saw at her feet the little Syrian maid, looking +with imploring eyes to her face. + +"Why do you not go with the rest?" asked Nehushta, stooping down and +laying one hand upon the girl's shoulder. + +"I have eaten thy bread--shall I leave thee in the hour of death?" asked +the little slave, humbly. + +"Go, child," replied Nehushta, very kindly. "I have seen thy devotion +and truth--thou must not perish." + +But the Syrian leaped to her feet, and there was pride in her small +face, as she answered: + +"I am a bondwoman, but I am a daughter of Israel, even as thou art. +Though all the others leave thee, I will not. It may be I can help +thee." + +"Thou art a brave child," said Nehushta; and she drew the girl to her +and pressed her kindly. "I must go to Zoroaster--stay thou here, hide +thyself among the curtains--escape by the window, if any come to harm +thee." She turned and went rapidly out between the curtains, as calm and +as pale as death. + +The din in the palace had partially subsided, and new and strange cries +re-echoed through the vast halls and corridors. An occasional wild +scream--a momentary distant crash as of a door breaking down and +thundering upon the marble pavement; and then again, the long, strange +cries, mingled with a dull, low sound as of a great moaning--all came up +together, and seemed to meet Nehushta as she lifted the curtains and +went out. + +But the little Syrian maid grasped the Indian knife in her girdle, and +stole stealthily upon her mistress's steps. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +Nehushta glided like a ghost along the corridors and dimly-lighted +halls. As yet, the confusion seemed to be all in the lower story of the +palace, but the roaring din rose louder every moment--the shrieks of +wounded women with the moaning of wounded men, the clash of swords and +arms, and, occasionally, a quick, loud rattle, as half a dozen arrows +that had missed their mark struck the wall together. + +Onward she flew, not pausing to listen, lest in a moment more the tide +of fight should be forced up the stairs and overtake her. She shuddered +as she passed the head of the great staircase and heard, as though but a +few steps from her, a wild shriek that died suddenly into a gurgling +death hiss. + +She passed the treasury, whence the guards had fled, and in a moment +more she was above the staircase that led down to the temple behind the +palace. There was no one there as yet, as far as she could see in the +starlight. The doors were shut, and the massive square building frowned +through the gloom, blacker than its own black shadow. + +Nehushta paused as she reached the door, and listened. Very faintly +through the thick walls she could hear the sound of the evening chant. +The priests were all within with Zoroaster, unconscious of their danger +and of all that was going on in the palace, singing the hymns of the +sacrifice before the sacred fire,--chanting, as it were, a dirge for +themselves. Nehushta tried the door. The great bronze gates were locked +together, and though she pushed, with her whole strength, they would not +move a hair's breadth. + +"Press the nail nearest the middle," said a small voice behind her. +Nehushta started and looked round. It was the little Syrian slave, who +had followed her out of the palace, and stood watching her in the dark. +Nehushta put her hand upon the round head of the nail and pressed, as +the slave told her to do. The door opened, turning slowly and +noiselessly upon its hinges. Both women entered; the Syrian girl looked +cautiously back and pushed the heavy bronze back to its place. The +Egyptian artisan who had made the lock, had told one of the queen's +women whom he loved the secret by which it was opened, and the Syrian +had heard it repeated and remembered it. + +Once inside, Nehushta ran quickly through the corridor between the walls +and rushing into the inner temple, found herself behind the screen and +in a moment more she stood before all the priests and before Zoroaster +himself. But even as she entered, the Syrian slave, who had lingered to +close the gates, heard the rushing of many feet outside, and the yelling +of hoarse voices, mixed with the clang of arms. + +Solemnly the chant rose around the sacred fire that seemed to burn by +unearthly means upon the black stone altar. Zoroaster stood before it, +his hands lifted in prayer, and his waxen face and snow-white beard +illuminated by the dazzling effulgence. + +The seventy priests, in even rank, stood around the walls, their hands +raised in like manner as their chief priest's; their voices going up in +a rich chorus, strong and tuneful, in the grand plain-chant. But +Nehushta broke upon their melody, with a sudden cry, as she rushed +before them. + +"Zoroaster--fly--there is yet time. The enemy are come in +thousands--they are in the palace. There is barely time!" As she cried +to him and to them all, she rushed forward and laid one hand upon his +shoulder. + +But the high priest turned calmly upon her, his face unmoved, although +all the priests ceased their chanting and gathered about their chief in +sudden fear. As their voices ceased, a low roar was heard from without, +as though the ocean were beating at the gates. + +Zoroaster gently took Nehushta's hand from his shoulder. + +"Go thou, and save thyself," he said kindly. "I will not go. If it be +the will of the All-Wise that I perish, I will perish before this altar. +Go thou quickly, and save thyself while there is yet time." + +But Nehushta took his hand in hers, that trembled with the great +emotion, and gazed into his calm eyes as he spoke--her look was very +loving and very sad. + +"Knowest thou not, Zoroaster, that I would rather die with thee than +live with any other? I swear to thee, by the God of my fathers, I will +not leave thee." Her soft voice trembled--for she was uttering her own +sentence of death. + +"There is no more time!" cried the voice of the little Syrian maid, as +she came running into the temple. "There is no more time! Ye are all +dead men! Behold, they are breaking down the doors!" + +As she spoke, the noise of some heavy mass striking against the bronze +gates echoed like thunder through the temple, and at each blow a chorus +of hideous yells rose, wild and long-drawn-out, as though the fiends of +hell were screaming in joy over the souls of the lost. + +The priests drew together, trembling with fear, brave and devoted though +they were. Some of them would have run towards the door, but the Syrian +maid stood before them. + +"Ye are dead men and there is no salvation--ye must die like men," said +the little maid, quietly. "Let me go to my mistress." And she pushed +through the crowd of white-robed men, who surged together in their +sudden fear, like a white-crested wave heaved up from the deep by a +fierce wind. + +Nehushta still held Zoroaster's hand and stared wildly upon the helpless +priests. Her one thought was to save the man she loved, but she saw well +enough that it was too late. Nevertheless she appealed to the priests. + +"Can none of you save him?" she cried. + +Foremost in the little crowd was a stern, dark man--the same who had +been the high priest before Zoroaster came, the same who had first +hurled defiance at the intruder, and then had given him his whole +allegiance. He spoke out loudly: + +"We will save him and thee if we are able," he cried in brave enthusiasm +for his chief. "We will take you between us and open the doors, and it +may be that we can fight our way out--though we are all slain, he may be +saved." He would have laid hold on Zoroaster, and there was not one of +the priests who would not have laid down his life in the gallant +attempt. But Zoroaster gently put him back. + +"Ye cannot save me, for my hour is come," he said, and a radiance of +unearthly glory stole upon his features, so that he seemed transfigured +and changed before them all. "The foe are as a thousand men against one. +Here we must die like men, and like priests of the Lord before His +altar." + +The thundering at the doors continued to echo through the whole temple, +almost drowning every other sound as it came; and the yells of the +infuriated besiegers rose louder and louder between. + +Zoroaster's voice rang out clear and strong and the band of priests +gathered more and more closely about him. Nehushta still held his hand +tightly between her own, and, pale as death, she looked up to him as he +spoke. The little Syrian girl stood, beside her mistress, very quite and +grave. + +"Hear me, ye priests of the Lord," said Zoroaster. "We are doomed men +and must surely die, though we know not by whose hand we perish. Now, +therefore, I beseech you to think not of this death which we must suffer +in our mortal bodies, but to open your eyes to the things which are not +mortal and which perish not eternally. For man is but a frail and +changing creature as regards his mortality, seeing that his life is not +longer than the lives of other created things, and he is delicate and +sickly and exposed to manifold dangers from his birth. But the soul of +man dieth not, neither is there any taint of death in it, but it liveth +for ever and is made glorious above the stars. For the stars, also, +shall have an end, and the earth--even as our bodies must end here this +night; but our soul shall see the glory of God, the All-Wise, and shall +live." + +"The sun riseth and the earth is made glad, and it is day; and again he +setteth and it is night, and the whole earth is sorrowful. But though +our sun is gone down and we shall see him rise no more, yet shall we see +a sun which setteth not for ever, and of whose gladness there is no end. +The morning cometh, after which there shall be no evening. The Lord +Ahura Mazda, who made all things, made also these our bodies, and put us +in them to live and move and have being for a space on earth. And now he +demands them again; for he gave them and they are his. Let us give them +readily as a sacrifice, for he who knoweth all things, knoweth also why +it is meet that we should die. And he who hath created all things which +we see and which perish quickly, hath created also the things which we +have not seen, but shall see hereafter;--and the time is at hand when +our eyes shall be opened to the world which endureth, though they be +closed in death upon the things which perish. Raise then a hymn of +thanks with me to the All-Wise God, who is pleased to take us from time +into eternity, from darkness into light, from change to immortality, +from death by death to life undying." + + _"Praise we the All-Wise God, who hath made and + created the years and the ages; + Praise him who in the heavens hath sown and hath + scattered the seed of the stars; + Praise him who moves between the three ages that are, + and that have been, and shall be; + Praise him who rides on death, in whose hand are + all power and honour and glory; + Praise him who made what seemeth, the image of + living, the shadow of life; + Praise him who made what is, and hath made it + eternal for ever and ever, + Who made the days and nights, and created the darkness + to follow the light, + Who made the day of life, that should rise up and + lighten the shadow of death."_ + +Zoroaster raised one hand to heaven as he chanted the hymn, and all the +priests sang with him in calm and holy melody, as though death were not +even then with them. But Nehushta still held his other hand fast, and +her own were icy cold. + +With a crash, as though the elements of the earth were dissolving into +primeval confusion, the great bronze doors gave way, and fell clanging +in--and the yells of the besiegers came to the ears of the priests, as +though the cover had been taken from the caldron of hell, suffering the +din of the damned and their devils to burst forth in demoniac discord. + +In an instant the temple was filled with a swarm of hideous men, whose +eyes were red with the lust of blood and their hands with slaughter. +Their crooked swords gleamed aloft as they pressed forward in the rush, +and their yells rent the very roof. + +They had hoped for treasure,--they saw but a handful of white-robed +unarmed men, standing around one taller than the rest; and in the +throng they saw two women. Their rage knew no bounds, and their screams +rose more piercing than ever, as they surrounded the doomed band, and +overwhelmed them, and dyed their misshapen blades in the crimson blood +that flowed so red and strong over the fair white vestures. + +The priests struggled like brave men to the last. They grasped their +hideous foes by arm and limb and neck, and tossed some of them back upon +their fellows; fighting desperately with their bare hands against the +armed murderers. But the foe were a hundred to one, and the priests fell +in heaps upon each other while the blood flowed out between the feet of +the wild, surging throng, who yelled and slew, and yelled again, as each +priest tottered back and fell, with the death-wound in his breast. + +At last, one tall wretch, with bloodied eyes and distorted features, +leaped across a heap of slain and laid hold of Nehushta by the hair with +his reeking hand, and strove to drag her out. But Zoroaster's thin arms +went round her like lightning and clasped her to his breast. Then the +little Syrian maid raised her Indian knife, with both hands, high above +her head, and smote the villain with all her might beneath the fifth +rib, that he died in the very act; but ere he had fallen, a sharp blade +fell swiftly, like a crooked flash of light, and severed the small hands +at the wrist; and the brave, true-hearted little maid fell shrieking to +the floor. One shriek--and that was all; for the same sword smote her +again as she lay, and so she died. + +But Nehushta's head fell forward on the high priest's breast, and her +arms clasped him wildly as his clasped her. + +"Oh, Zoroaster, my beloved, my beloved! Say not any more that I am +unfaithful, for I have been faithful even unto death, and I shall be +with you beyond the stars for ever!" + +He pressed her closer still, and in that awful moment, his white face +blazed with the radiant light of the new life that comes by death alone. + +"Beyond the stars and for ever!" he cried. "In the light of the glory of +God most high!" + +The keen sword flashed out once more and severed Nehushta's neck, and +found its sheath in her lover's heart; and they fell down dead together, +and the slaughter was done. + +But on the third day, Darius the king returned; for a messenger met him, +bringing news that his soldiers had slain the rebels in Echatana, though +they were ten to one. And when he saw what things had been done in +Stakhar, and looked upon the body of the wife he had loved, lying +clasped in the arms of his most faithful and beloved servant, he wept +most bitterly. And he rode forth and destroyed utterly the wild riders +of the eastern hills, and left not one child to weep for its father that +was dead. But two thousand of them he brought to Stakhar, and crucified +them all upon the roadside, that their blood might avenge the blood of +those he had loved so well. + +And he took the bodies of Zoroaster the high priest, and of Nehushta the +queen, and of the little Syrian maid, and he buried them with spices +and fine linen, and in plates of pure gold, together in a tomb over +against the palace, hewn in the rock of the mountain. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARZIO'S CRUCIFIX AND ZOROASTER*** + + +******* This file should be named 16720.txt or 16720.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/2/16720 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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