On the following evening Haschim, the merchant, came to the governor’s
house with a small part of his caravan. A stranger might have taken
the mansion for the home of a wealthy country-gentleman rather than the
official residence of a high official; for at this hour, after sunset,
large herds of beasts and sheep were being driven into the vast
court-yard behind the house, surrounded on three sides by out-buildings;
half a hundred horses of choice breed came, tied in couples, from
the watering-place; and in a well-sanded paddock enclosed by hurdles,
slaves, brown and black, were bringing fodder to a large troop of
camels.
The house itself was well-fitted by its unusually palatial size and
antique splendor to be the residence of the emperor’s viceroy, and the
Mukaukas, to whom it all belonged, had in fact held the office for a
long time. After the conquest of the country by the Arabs they had left
him in possession, and at the present date he managed the affairs of
his Egyptian fellow-countrymen, no more in the name of the emperor at
Byzantium, but under the authority of the Khaliff at Medina and his
great general, Amru. The Moslem conquerors had found him a ready and
judicious mediator; while his fellow-Christians and country-men obeyed
him as being the noblest and wealthiest of their race and the descendant
of ancestors who had enjoyed high distinction even under the Pharaohs.
Only the governor’s residence was Greek--or rather Alexandrian-in style;
the court-yards and out-buildings on the contrary, looked as though
they belonged to some Oriental magnate-to some Erpaha (or prince of a
province) as the Mukaukas’ forefathers had been called, a rank which
commanded respect both at court and among the populace.
The dragoman had not told the merchant too much beforehand of the
governor’s possessions: he had vast estates, in both Upper and Lower
Egypt, tilled by thousands of slaves under numerous overseers. Here in
Memphis was the centre of administration of his property, and besides
the offices for his private affairs were those he needed as a state
official.
Well-kept quays, and the wide road running along the harbor side,
divided his large domain from the river, and a street ran along the wall
which enclosed it on the north. On this side was the great gate, always
wide open by day, by which servants or persons on business-errands
made their entrance; the other gate, a handsome portal with Corinthian
columns opening from the Nile-quay, was that by which the waterparty had
returned the evening before. This was kept closed, and only opened
for the family, or for guests and distinguished visitors. There was
a guardhouse at the north gate with a small detachment of Egyptian
soldiers, who were entrusted with the protection of the Mukaukas’
person.
As soon as the refreshing evening breeze came up from the river after
the heat of the day there was a stir in the great court-yard. Men, women
and girls came trooping out of the retainers’ dwellings to breathe the
cooler air. Waiting-maids and slaves dipped for water into enormous
earthen vessels and carried it away in graceful jars; the free-men of
the household rested in groups after the fatigues of the day, chatting,
playing and singing. From the slaves’ quarters in another court-yard
came confused sounds of singing hymns, with the shrill tones of the
double pipe and duller noise of the tabor--an invitation to dance;
scolding and laughter; the jubilant shouts of a girl led out to dance,
and the shrieks of a victim to the overseer’s rod.
The servant’s gateway, still hung with flowers and wreaths in honor of
Orion’s recent return, was wide open for the coming and going of the
accountants and scribes, or of such citizens as came very willingly to
pay an evening call on their friends in the governor’s household; for
there were always some officials near the Mukaukas’ person who knew more
than other folks of the latest events in Church and State.
Ere long a considerable number of men had assembled to sit under the
deep wooden porch of the head-steward’s dwelling, all taking eager part
in the conversation, which they would have found very enjoyable even
without the beer which their host offered them in honor of the great
event of his young lord’s return; for what was ever dearer to Egyptians
than a brisk exchange of talk, at the same time heaping ridicule or
scorn on their unapproachable superiors in rank, and on all they deem
enemies to their creed or their country.
Many a trenchant word and many a witty jest must have been uttered this
evening, for hearty laughter and loud applause were incessant in the
head steward’s porch; the captain of the guard at the gate cast envious
and impatient glances at the merry band, which he would gladly have
joined; but he could not yet leave his post. The messengers’ horses were
standing saddled while their riders awaited their orders, there were
supplicants and traders to be admitted or turned away, and there were
still a number of persons lingering in the large vestibule of the
governor’s palace and craving to speak with him, for it was well known
in Memphis that during the hot season the ailing Mukaukas granted
audience only in the evening.
The Egyptians had not yet acquired full confidence in the Arab
government, and every one tried to avoid being handed over to its
representative; for none of its officials could be so wise or so just
as their old Mukaukas. How the suffering man found strength and time to
keep an eye on everything, it was hard to imagine; but the fact remained
that he himself looked into every decision. At the same time no one
could be sure of his affairs being settled out of hand unless he could
get at the governor himself.
Business hours were now over; the anxiety caused both by the delay in
the rising of the Nile and by the advent of the comet had filled the
waiting-rooms with more petitioners than usual. Deputations from town
and village magistrates had been admitted in parties; supplicants on
private business had gone in one by one; and most of them had come forth
content, or at any rate well advised. Only one man still lingered,--a
countryman whose case had long been awaiting settlement--in the hope
that a gift to the great man’s doorkeeper, of a few drachmae out of his
poverty might at length secure him the fruit of his long patience--when
the chamberlain, bidding him return on the morrow, officiously flung
open the high doors that led to the Mukaukas’ apartments, to admit the
Arab merchant, in consideration of Haschim’s gold piece which had come
to him through his cousin the dragoman. Haschim, however, had observed
the countryman, and insisted on his being shown in first. This was done,
and a few minutes later the peasant came out satisfied, and gratefully
kissed the Arab’s hand.
Then the chamberlain led the old merchant, and the men who followed him
with a heavy bale, into a magnificent anteroom to wait; and his patience
was put to a severe test before his name was called and he could show
the governor his merchandise.
The Mukaukas, in fact, after signifying by a speechless nod that he
would presently receive the merchant--who came well recommended--had
retired to recreate himself, and was now engaged in a game of draughts,
heedless of those whom he kept waiting. He reclined on a divan covered
with a sleek lioness’ skin, while his young antagonist sat opposite on
a low stool, The doors of the room, facing the Nile, where he received
petitioners were left half open to admit the fresher but still warm
evening-air. The green velarium or awning, which during the day had
screened off the sun’s rays where the middle of the ceiling was open to
the sky, was now rolled back, and the moon and stars looked down into
the room. It was well adapted to its purpose as a refuge from the
heat of the summer day, for the walls were lined with cool, colored
earthenware tiles, the floor was a brightly-tinted mosaic of patterns
on a ground of gold glass, and in the circular central ornament of this
artistic pavement stood the real source of freshness: a basin, two
man’s length across, of brown porphyry flecked with white, from which
a fountain leaped, filling the surrounding air with misty spray. A few
stools, couches and small tables, all of cool-looking metal, formed the
sole furniture of this lofty apartment which was brilliantly lighted by
numerous lamps.
A light air blew in through the open roof and doors, made the lamps
flicker, and played with Paula’s brown hair as she sat absorbed, as
it seemed, in the game. Orion, who stood behind her, had several times
endeavored to attract her attention, but in vain. He now eagerly offered
his services to fetch her a handkerchief to preserve her from a chill;
this, however, she shortly and decidedly declined, though the breeze
came up damp from the river and she had more than once drawn her peplos
more closely across her bosom.
The young man set his teeth at this fresh repulse. He did not know that
his mother had told Paula what he had yesterday agreed to, and could
not account for the girl’s altered behavior. All day she had treated him
with icy coldness, had scarcely answered his questions with a distant
“Yes,” or “No;” and to him, the spoilt favorite of women, this conduct
had become more and more intolerable. Yes, his mother had judged her
rightly: she allowed herself to be swayed in a most extraordinary
manner by her moods; and now even he was to feel the insolence of
her haughtiness, of which he had as yet seen nothing. This repellent
coldness bordered on rudeness and he had no mind to submit to it for
long. It was with deep vexation that he watched every turn of her hand,
every movement of her body, and the varying expression of her face; and
the more the image of this proud maiden sank into his heart the more
lovely and perfect he thought her, and the greater grew his desire to
see her smile once more, to see her again as sweetly womanly as she
had been but yesterday. Now she was like nothing so much as a splendid
marble statue, though he knew indeed that it had a soul--and what a
glorious task it would be to free this fair being from herself, as
it were, from the foolish tempers that enslaved her, to show her--by
severity if need should be--what best beseems a woman, a maiden.
He became more and more exclusively absorbed in watching the young girl,
as his mother--who was sitting with Dame Susannah on a couch at some
little distance from the players--observed with growing annoyance, and
she tried to divert his attention by questions and small errands, so as
to give his evident excitement a fresh direction.
Who could have thought, yesterday morning, that her darling would so
soon cause her fresh vexation and anxiety.
He had come home just such a man as she and his father could have
wished: independent and experienced in the ways of the great world. In
the Capital he had, no doubt, enjoyed all that seems pleasant in the
eyes of a wealthy youth, but in spite of that he had remained fresh
and open-hearted even to the smallest things; and this was what most
rejoiced his father. In him there was no trace of the satiety, the
blunted faculty for enjoyment, which fell like a blight on so many men
of his age and rank. He could still play as merrily with little Mary,
still take as much pleasure in a rare flower or a fine horse, as before
his departure. At the same time he had gained keen insight into the
political situation of the time, into the state of the empire and the
court, into administration, and the innovations in church matters; it
was a joy to his father to hear him discourse; and he assured his wife
that he had learnt a great deal from the boy, that Orion was on the high
road to be a great statesman and was already quite capable of taking his
father’s place.
When Neforis confessed how large a sum in debts Orion had left in
Constantinople the old man put his hand in his purse with a sort of
pride, delighted to find that his sole remaining heir knew how to
spend the immense wealth which to him was now a burden rather than a
pleasure--to make good use of it, as he himself had done in his day, and
display a magnificence of which the lustre was reflected on him and on
his name.
“With him, at any rate,” said the old man, “one gets something for the
money. His horses cost a great deal but he knows how to win with them;
his entertainments swallow up a pretty sum, but they gain him respect
wherever he goes. He brought me a letter from the Senator Justinus, and
the worthy man tells me what a leading part he plays among the gilded
youth of the Capital. All this is not to be had for nothing, and it will
be cheap in the end. What need we care about a hundred talents more or
less! And there is something magnanimous in the lad that has given him
the spirit to feel that.”
And it was not a hale old grey-beard who spoke thus, but a broken man,
whose only joy it was to lavish on his son the riches which he had long
been incapable of enjoying. The high-spirited and gifted youth, scarcely
more than a boy in years, whom he had sent to the Capital with no small
misgivings, must have led a far less lawless life than might have been
expected; of this the ruddy tinge in his sunburnt cheeks was ample
guarantee, the vigorous solidity of his muscles, and the thick waves
of his hair, which was artificially curled and fell in a fringe, as was
then the fashion, over his high brow, giving him a certain resemblance
to the portraits of Antinous, the handsomest youth in the time of
the Emperor Hadrian. Even his mother owned that he looked like health
itself, and no member of the Imperial family could be more richly,
carefully and fashionably dressed than her darling. But even in the
humblest garb he would have been a handsome--a splendid youth, and
his mother’s pride! When he left home there was still a smack of the
provincial about him; but now every kind of awkwardness had vanished,
and wherever he might go--even in the Capital, he was certain to be one
of the first to attract observation and approval.
And what had he not known in his city experience? The events of half a
century had followed each other with intoxicating rapidity in the course
of the thirty months he had spent there. The greater the excitement, the
greater the pleasure was the watchword of his time; and though he had
rioted and revelled on the shores of the Bosphorus if ever man did,
still the pleasures of feasting and of love, or of racing with his own
victorious horses--all of which he had enjoyed there to the full--were
as child’s play compared with the nervous tension to which he had been
strung by the appalling events he had witnessed on all sides. How
petty was the excitement of an Alexandrian horse-race! Whether Timon
or Ptolemy or he himself should win--what did it matter? It was a fine
thing no doubt to carry off the crown in the circus at Byzantium, but
there were other and soul-stirring crises there beyond those which were
bound up with horses or chariots. There a throne was the prize, and
might cost the blood and life of thousands!--What did a man bring home
from the churches in the Nile valley? But if he crossed the threshold of
St. Sophia’s in Constantinople he often might have his blood curdled,
or bring home--what matter?--bleeding wounds, or even be carried home--a
corpse.
Three times had he seen the throne change masters. An emperor and an
empress had been stripped of the purple and mutilated before his eyes.
Aye, then and there he had had real and intense excitement to thrill
him to the marrow and quick. As for the rest! Well, yes, he had had more
trivial pleasures too. He had not been received as other Egyptians were:
half-educated philosophers--who called themselves Sages and assumed
a mystic and pompously solemn demeanor, Astrologers, Rhetoricians,
poverty-stricken but witty and venemous satirists, physicians making
a display of the learning of their forefathers, fanatical
theologians--always ready to avail themselves of other weapons than
reason and dogma in their bitter contests over articles of faith,
hermits and recluses--as foul in mind as they were dirty in their
persons, corn-merchants and usurers with whom it was dangerous to
conclude a bargain without witnesses. Orion was none of these. As
the handsome, genial, and original-minded son of the rich and noble
Governor, Mukaukas George, he was welcomed as a sort of ambassador;
whatever the golden youth of the city allowed themselves was permitted
to him. His purse was as well lined as theirs, his health and vigor far
more enduring; and his horses had beaten theirs in three races, though
he drove them himself and did not trust them to paid charioteers. The
“rich Egyptian,” the “New Antinous,” “handsome Orion,” as he was called,
could never be spared from feast or entertainment. He was a welcome
guest at the first houses in the city, and in the palace and the villa
of the Senator Justinus, an old friend of his father, he was as much at
home as a son of the house.
It was under his roof, and the auspices of his kindhearted wife Martina,
that he made acquaintance with the fair Heliodora, the widow of a nephew
of the Senator; and the whole city had been set talking of the tender
intimacy Orion had formed with the beautiful young woman whose rigid
virtue had hitherto been a subject of admiration no less than her fair
hair and the big jewels with which she loved to set off her simple
but costly dress. And many a fair Byzantine had striven for the young
Egyptian’s good graces before Heliodora had driven them all out of the
field. Still, she had not yet succeeded in enslaving Orion deeply and
permanently; and when, last evening, he had assured his mother that she
was not mistress of his heart he spoke truly.
His conduct in the Capital had not certainly been exemplary, but he had
never run wild, and had enjoyed the respect not only of his companions
in pleasure, but of grave and venerable men whom he had met in the house
of Justinus, and who sang the praises of his intelligence and eagerness
to learn. As a boy he had been a diligent scholar, and here he let no
opportunity slip. Not least had he cultivated his musical talents in the
Imperial city, and had acquired a rare mastery in singing and playing
the lute.
He would gladly have remained some time longer at the Capital, but at
last the place grew too hot to hold him-mainly on his father’s account.
The conviction that George had largely contributed to the disaffection
of Egypt for the Byzantine Empire and had played into the hands of the
irresistible and detested upstart Arabs, had found increasing acceptance
in the highest circles, especially since Cyrus--the deposed and now
deceased Patriarch of Alexandria--had retired to Constantinople. Orion’s
capture was in fact already decided on, when the Senator Justinus and
some other friends had hinted a warning which he had acted on just in
time.
His father’s line of conduct had placed him in great peril; but he owed
him no grudge for it--indeed, he most deeply approved of it. A thousand
times had he witnessed the contempt heaped on the Egyptians by the
Greeks, and the loathing and hatred of the Orthodox for the Monophysite
creed of his fellow-countrymen.
He had with difficulty controlled his wrath as he had listened again
and again to the abuse and scorn poured out on his country and people by
gentle and simple, laymen and priests, even in his presence; regarding
him no doubt as one of themselves--a Greek in whose eyes everything
“Barbarian” was as odious and as contemptible as in their own.
But the blood of his race flowed in the veins of the “new Antinous” who
could sing Greek songs so well and with so pure an accent; every insult
to his people was stamped deep in his heart, every sneer at his faith
revived his memory of the day when the Melchites had slain his two
brothers. And these bloody deeds, these innumerable acts of oppression
by which the Greek; had provoked and offended the schismatic Egyptian
and hunted them to death, were now avenged by his father. It lifted up
his heart and made him proud to think of it. He showed his secret soul
to the old man who was as much surprised as delighted at what he found
there; for he had feared that Orion might not be able wholly to escape
the powerful influences of Greek beguilements;--nay, he had often felt
anxious lest his own son might disapprove of his having surrendered to
the Arab conquerors the province entrusted to his rule, and concluded a
peace with them.
The Mukaukas now felt himself as one with Orion, and from time to time
looked tenderly up at him from the draught-board. Neforis was doing her
best to entertain the mother of her son’s future bride, and divert her
attention from his strange demeanor. She seemed indeed to be successful,
for Dame Susannah agreed to everything she said; but she betrayed the
fact that she was keeping a sharp watch by suddenly asking: “Does your
husband’s lofty niece not think us worthy of a single word?”
“Oh no!” said Neforis bitterly. “I only hope she may soon find some
other people to whom she can behave more graciously. You may depend upon
it I will put no obstacle in her way.”
Then she brought the conversation round to Katharina, and the widow told
her that her brother-in-law, Chrysippus, was now in Memphis with his two
little daughters. They were to go away on the morrow, so the young girl
had been obliged to devote herself to them: “And so the poor child is
sitting there at this minute,” she lamented, “and must keep those two
little chatter-boxes quiet while she is longing to be here instead.”
Orion quite understood these last words; he asked after the young girl,
and then added gaily:
“She promised me a collar yesterday for my little white keepsake from
Constantinople. Fie! Mary, you should not tease the poor little beast.”
“No, let the dog go,” added the widow, addressing the governor’s little
granddaughter, who was trying to make the recalcitrant dog kiss her
doll. “But you know, Orion, this tiny creature is really too delicate
for such a big man as you are! You should give him to some pretty young
lady and then he would fulfil his destiny! And Katharina is embroidering
him a collar; I ought not to tell her little secret, but it is to have
gold stars on a blue ground.”
“Because Orion is a star,” cried the little girl. “So she is working
nothing but Orions.”
“But fortunately there is but one star of my name,” observed he. “Pray
tell her that Dame Susa.”
The child clapped her hands. “He does not choose to have any other star
near him!” she exclaimed.
The widow broke in: “Little simpleton! I know people who cannot even
bear to have a likeness traced between themselves and any one else.--But
this you must permit, Orion--you were quite right just now, Neforis; his
mouth and brow might have been taken from his father’s face.”
The remark was quite accurate; and yet it would have been hard to
imagine two men more unlike than the bright youth full of vitality, and
the languid old man on the couch, to whom even the small exertion of
moving the men was an effort. The Mukaukas might once have been like his
son, but in some long past time. Thin grey locks now only covered one
half of his bald head, and of his eyes, which, thirty years since, had
sparkled perhaps as keenly as Orion’s, there was usually nothing, or
very little to be seen; for the heavy lids always drooped over them as
though they had lost the power to open, and this gave his handsome but
deathly-pale face a somewhat owl-like look. It was not morose, however;
on the contrary the mingled lines of suffering and of benevolent
kindliness resulted in an expression only of melancholy. The mouth
and flabby cheeks were as motionless as though they were dead. Grief,
anxiety and alarms seemed to have passed over them with a paralysing
hand and had left their trace there. He looked like a man weary unto
death, and still living only because fate had denied him the grace to
die. Indeed, he had often been taken for dead by his family when he had
dipped too freely into a certain little blood-stone box to take too many
of the white opium-pills, one of which he placed between his colorless
lips at long intervals, even during his game of draughts.
He lifted each piece slowly, like a sleeper with his eyes half shut; and
yet his opponent could not hold her own against his wary tactics and was
defeated by him now for the third time, though her uncle himself called
her a good player. It was easy to read in her high, smooth brow and
dark-blue eyes with their direct gaze, that she could think clearly
and decisively, and also feel deeply. But she seemed wilful too, and
contradictory--at any rate to-day; for when Orion pointed out some move
to her she rarely took his advice, but with set lips, pushed the piece
according to her own, rarely wiser, judgment. It was quite plain that
she was refractory under the guidance of this--especially of this
counsellor.
The bystanders could not fail to see the girl’s repellent manner and
Orion’s eager attempts to propitiate her; and for this reason Neforis
was glad when, just as her husband had finished the third game, and
had pushed the men together on the board with the back of his hand,
his chamberlain reminded him that the Arab was without, awaiting his
pleasure with growing impatience. The Mukaukas answered only by a sign,
drew his long caftan of the finest wool closer around him, and pointed
to the doors and the open roof. The rest of the party had long felt the
chill of the damp night air that blew through the room from the river,
but knowing that the father suffered more from heat than from anything,
they had all willingly endured the draught. Now, however, Orion called
the slaves, and before the strangers were admitted the doors were closed
and the roof covered.
Paula rose; the governor lay motionless and kept his eyes apparently
closed; he must, however, have seen what was going forward through an
imperceptible slit, for he turned first to Paula and then to the other
women saying: “Is it not strange?--Most old folks, like children,
seek the sun, and love to sit, as the others play, in its heat. While
I--something that happened to me years ago--you know;--and it seemed to
freeze my blood. Now it never gets warm, and I feel the contrast between
the coolness in here and the heat outside most acutely, almost as a
pain. The older we grow the more ready we are to abandon to the young
the things we ourselves used most to enjoy. The only thing which we old
folks do not willingly relinquish is personal comfort, and I thank you
for enduring annoyances so patiently for the sake of securing mine.--It
is a terrific summer! You, Paula, from the heights of Lebanon, know what
ice is. How often have I wished that I could have a bed of snow. To feel
myself one with that fresh, still coldness would be all I wish for! The
cold air which you dread does me good. But the warmth of youth rebels
against everything that is cool.”
This was the first long sentence the Mukaukas had uttered since the
beginning of the game. Orion listened respectfully to the end, but then
he said with a laugh: “But there are some young people who seem to take
pleasure in being cool and icy--for what cause God alone knows!”
As he spoke he looked the girl at whom the words were aimed, full in
the face; but she turned silently and proudly away, and an angry shade
passed over her lovely features.