It was a stormy night. At rare intervals a weak moon-ray darted
between hurrying black clouds and mingled itself strangely with the
throbbings of lightning. A warm salt-laden wind was blowing violently.
On the left shore of the Bosphorus a horseman was approaching a lonely
ruin. In immemorial Trojan times this fortification had been used as a
watch-tower. It was now little more than a heap of stones and
half-demolished walls, overgrown by tall grass. But at its foot a
small chamber still served as shelter to shepherds and poor
travellers.
Tethering his horse under a dismantled doorway, and brushing through
the burdock-leaves, the rider knocked at a low door--
"It is I, Meroë! Open!..."
An old Egyptian woman opened the door and admitted him to the interior
of the tower. The traveller came near a torch which lighted up his
face. He was Julian the Emperor.
The two went out, the old woman, who knew the place well, leading
Julian by the hand. Parting the briers and thistles she revealed a low
entry in one face of a little ravine in the cliff, and went down the
steps within. The sea lay near, and the shock of the waves below made
the cliff tremble, but arched rockwalls completely sheltered them from
the wind. The Egyptian halted--
"Here, my lord, is a lamp, and the key. You must turn it twice. The
monastery-door is open. If you meet the guardian brother, fear
nothing; I have given him money. Only make no mistake; it is in the
upper passage, the third cell to the left."
Julian opened the door and took a long time descending a steep slope
of huge stone-hewn steps. The tunnel soon became a passage, so narrow
that two men could not pass each other in it. This secret way joined
the watch-tower on the opposite bank of the chasm with a new Christian
monastery.
Julian emerged high above the sea, but still between steep cliffs
washed by the tide. He began to climb a narrow rocky stair by
daylight. Arrived at the summit he found a brick wall, which he
climbed with some difficulty. He found himself in the little
cloistered garden.
He penetrated farther into a small court, in which the walls were hung
with wild roses. The air was full of perfume. The shutters of one of
the windows on the ground floor were not closed from within. Julian
gently opened them, and entered through the window. A gust of
imprisoned air filled his nostrils with odours of moisture, incense,
mice, medicinal herbs, and fresh apples, with which the cautious nuns
had filled their stores.
The Emperor went along a corridor into which opened two rows of doors.
He counted the third to the left and softly opened it. An alabaster
lamp faintly lighted the cell. He made his breathing as noiseless as
possible.
A woman, dressed in the dark robe of a nun, lay stretched upon a low
bed. She must have fallen asleep during prayer, too weary to undress.
Long lashes shadowed the pale cheeks, and the brows wore a slight
majestic frown, like the frown of the dead.
Julian recognised Arsinoë.
She had greatly changed. Her hair alone had remained unaltered. It was
still golden brown at its roots, and at its ends pale yellow, like
honey standing in the sun.
The eyelids trembled. She sighed.
Before Julian's remembrance arose that proud body of the young Amazon
bathed in light, dazzling as the mellow Parthenon marbles, and, with a
gesture of irresistible love, Julian stretched out his arms to the nun
sleeping under the shadow of the tall black cross. He murmured--
"Arsinoë!"
The girl opened her eyes, and gazed at him without astonishment or
fear, as if she had known he would come. But returning to herself, she
shivered, and passed her hand over her forehead.