"You may well be merry, children, for this evening we shall have a
real feast. I'm going to prepare crowns of fresh roses; I shall fry
three perch, and make you cakes of gingerbread!"
At this moment a young slave accosted Olympiodorus and whispered in
his ear that a rich patrician lady of Cæsarea wished to see him,
having something to discuss with the priest of Aphrodite.
Olympiodorus followed the slave. Julian and Amaryllis went on with the
game of _kottabos_. Presently a little twelve-year-old girl came shyly
up to them. It was Psyche, the pale fair-haired and youngest child of
Olympiodorus. She had great sad blue eyes, and, alone in the house,
seemed a stranger to the cult of Aphrodite, and apart from the general
gaiety. Keeping aloof from the rest, she would remain musing while
others were laughing, and nobody knew what made her sad, or what gave
her pleasure. Her father pitied her as one incurably sick, ruined by
the evil eye or by the witchcrafts of his eternal enemies the
Galileans, who had carried off the soul of his child in revenge.
The dark Amaryllis was the favourite daughter of Olympiodorus: but the
mother secretly spoiled Psyche, and loved with jealous passion the
delicate child whose inner life was hidden from her. Psyche, unknown
to her father, and in despite of the caresses, prayers, and even the
threats of her mother, used to attend the basilican church of St.
Maurice. Anguished on discovering this, the priest of Venus had
renounced Psyche; and when her name was mentioned, his brow would
cloud over with a bitter expression. He was sure that it was by reason
of the impiety of his child that the vine, once blessed by Aphrodite,
produced fewer fruits than of yore; he believed that the little golden
crucifix worn on the child's neck had profaned the temple of the
indignant goddess.
"Why do you go to that church?" Julian asked her one day.
"I don't know; it is comfortable there. Have you seen the Good
Shepherd?"
"Yes, the Galilean! How did you know about Him?"
"Old Theodula told me. Ever since then I have gone to church; and,
tell me, Julian, why do they all hate the Good Shepherd?"
At this moment Olympiodorus returned in triumph and narrated his
interview with the patrician lady, a young girl whom her betrothed had
abandoned. She believed him bewitched by the amulets of a rival. Many
a time had she gone to the Christian church and besought St. Mamas
with an aching heart, but neither fasts nor prostrations had snapped
the evil charm.
"As if the Christians could console her!" Olympiodorus contemptuously
concluded, throwing a keen glance at the attentive Psyche. "This
Christian girl has now sought my help, and Aphrodite will heal her!"
He produced the two white pigeons, bound together, which the Christian
had begged him to offer as a sacrifice to the goddess of love.
Amaryllis took the little creatures in her hand, and kissed their rosy
beaks, declaring that it would be a thousand pities to kill them.
"Father, we will offer them to the goddess without spilling a drop of
blood!"
"How? There can be no sacrifice without bloodshed."
"We will give them liberty. They shall fly away clean into heaven,
straight to the footstool of Aphrodite. Is she not in the sky? She
will accept them. Let me do this, darling father, I beg of you!"
Olympiodorus had not the heart to deny this entreaty; and the young
girl, unbinding the pigeons tossed them back to liberty. They fled
away into the sky with a delirious beating of white wings, making for
the footstool of Aphrodite. Shading his eyes with his hands the priest
watched the offering of the convert disappear into the clouds, while
Amaryllis danced with joy, crying--
"Aphrodite, Aphrodite, receive the gift!"
Olympiodorus went out. Julian, solemn-faced and timorous, approached
Amaryllis; his cheeks grew red, and his voice trembled as he
pronounced the name of the young girl.
"Amaryllis, I have brought you----"
"Ah! I have long been going to ask you what it could be."
"It is a galley with three banks of oars!"
"A galley! What do you mean?"
"A real Liburnian galley."
He immediately began to unroll his present, but suddenly aware that
Amaryllis was watching him, he felt ineffable shame, became confused,
and with an imploring look at the damsel, slid the ship into the basin
of the fountain.
"You see, Amaryllis ... it is a trireme ... a real trireme,
with--with--sails ... and ... its rudder.... Look how well it gets
under way!"
But Amaryllis laughed heartily.
"What an odd boy you are! What in the world should I do with your
trireme? I fear it wouldn't take me very far. It's a ship for mice and
flies. Make a present of it to Psyche; she will be delighted with it."
Julian, though deeply hurt, assumed indifference, while tears choked
his speech. Controlling himself, he said disdainfully, but with
trembling lips--
"I see that you don't understand anything ... about art."
Amaryllis laughed yet more heartily. To add insult to injury, a
summons came for her to receive her betrothed, a rich merchant from
Samos, who dressed badly, perfumed his person, and spoke vile grammar.
Julian hated him, and when he learnt of the arrival of the Samian, the
charm of the house vanished so far as he was concerned.
From the neighbouring room he could hear the distracting chatter of
Amaryllis and the voice of her lover.
Without uttering a word, and filled with cold hatred, Julian seized
his cherished trireme--the real Liburnian trireme which had cost him
such endless pains--and before the startled eyes of Psyche, snapped
the mast, tore down the sails, tangled the rigging, and stamped the
toy into atoms with his feet.
Amaryllis returned. Her face bore traces of a strange happiness, of
that superfluity of life and love-joy which awakens in young girls an
imperious need to embrace and to kiss those near them.
"Julian ... forgive me ... I have pained you. Forgive me, dear! you
know well that I love you."
And before he had time to make up his mind, Amaryllis, throwing back
her tunic, imprisoned his head in her fresh bare arms. A delightful
dread stopped the beating of Julian's heart; he saw her great dark
dewy eyes so close to him, the sweet odour of her body so overwhelmed
him, and she locked him so close against her breast, that the boy grew
giddy. He closed his eyes and felt a kiss long, too long, pressed upon
his lips.