Up to within a few days Katharina had still been a dependent and docile
child, who had made it a point of honor to obey instantly, not only her
mother’s lightest word, but Dame Neforis, too; and, since her own Greek
instructress had been dismissed, even the acid Eudoxia. She had never
concealed from her mother, or the worthy teacher whom she had truly
loved, the smallest breach of rules, the least naughtiness or wilful act
of which she had been guilty; nay, she had never been able to rest till
she had poured out a confession, before evening prayer, of all that
her little heart told her was not perfectly right, to some one whom
she loved, and obtained full forgiveness. Night after night the
“Water-wagtail” had gone to sleep with a conscience as clear and as
white as the breast of her whitest dove, and the worst sin she had ever
committed during the day was some forbidden scramble, some dainty or,
more frequently, some rude and angry word.
But a change had first come over her after Orion’s kiss in the
intoxicating perfume of the flowering trees; and almost every hour since
had roused her to new hopes and new views. It had never before occurred
to her to criticise or judge her mother; now she was constantly doing
so. The way in which Susannah had cut herself off from her neighbors in
the governor’s house, to her daughter seemed perverse and in bad taste;
and the bitterly vindictive attacks on her old friends, which were
constantly on Susannah’s lips, aggrieved the girl, and finally set her
in opposition to her mother, whose judgment had hitherto seemed to her
infallible. Thus, when the governor’s house was closed against her,
there was no one in whom she cared to confide, for a barrier stood
between her and Paula, and she was painfully conscious of its height
each time the wish to pass it recurred to her mind. Paula was certainly
“that other” of whom Orion had spoken; when she had stolen away to see
her in the evening after the funeral, she had been prompted less by a
burning wish to pour out her heart to a sympathizing hearer, than by
torturing curiosity mingled with jealousy. She had crept through the
hedge with a strangely-mixed feeling of tender longing and sullen
hatred; when they had met in the garden she had at first given herself
up to the full delight of being free to speak, and of finding a listener
in a woman so much her superior; but Paula’s reserved replies to her
bold questioning had revived her feelings of envy and grudge. Any one
who did not hate Orion must, she was convinced, love him.
Were they not perhaps already pledged to each other! Very likely Paula
had thought of her as merely a credulous child, and so had concealed the
fact!
This “very likely” was torture to her, and she was determined to try, at
any rate, to settle the doubt. She had an ally at her command; this
was her foster-brother, the son of her deaf old nurse; she knew that
he would blindly obey all her wishes--nay, to please her, would throw
himself to the crocodiles in the Nile. Anubis had been her comrade in
all her childish sports, till at the age of fourteen, after learning to
read and write, her mother had obtained an appointment for him in the
governor’s household, as an assistant to be further trained by the
treasurer Nilus. Dame Susannah intended to find him employment at
a future date on her estates, or at Memphis, the centre of their
administration, as he might prove himself capable. The lad was still
living with his mother under the rich widow’s roof, and only spent his
working days at the governor’s house, he was industrious and clever
during office hours, though between whiles he busied himself with things
altogether foreign to his future calling. At Katharina’s request he
had opened a communication between the two houses by means of
carrier-pigeons, and many missives were thus despatched with little
gossip, invitations, excuses, and the like, from Katharina to Mary and
back again. Anubis took great pleasure in the pretty creatures, and by
the permission of his superiors a dovecote was erected on the roof of
the treasurer’s house. Mary was now lying ill, and their intercourse
was at an end; still, the well-trained messengers need not be idle, and
Katharina had begun to use them for a very different purpose.
Orion’s envoy had been detained a long time at Rufinus’ door the day
before; and she had since learnt from Anubis, who was acquainted with
all that took place in Nilus’ office, that Paula’s moneys were to be
delivered over to her very shortly, and in all probability by Orion
himself. They must then have an interview, and perhaps she might succeed
in overhearing it. She knew well how this could be managed; the only
thing was to be on the spot at the right moment.
On the morning after the full-moon, at two hours and a half before noon,
the little boy whose task it was to feed the feathered messengers in
their dove-cote brought her a written scrap, on which Anubis informed
her that Orion was about to set out; but he was not very warmly
welcomed, for the hour did not suit her at all. Early in the morning
Bishop Plotinus had come to inform Susannah that Benjamin, Patriarch of
Alexandria, was visiting Amru on the opposite shore, and would presently
honor Memphis with his presence. He proposed to remain one day; he had
begged to have no formal reception, and had left it to the bishop to
find suitable quarters for himself and his escort, as he did not wish
to put up at the governor’s house. The vain widow had at once pressingly
urged her readiness to receive the illustrious guest under her roof: The
prelate’s presence must bring a blessing on the house, and she thought,
too, that she might turn it to advantage for several ends she just now
happened to have in view.
A handsome reception must be prepared; there were but a few hours to
spare, and even before the bishop had left her, she had begun to call
the servants together and give them orders. The whole house must be
turned upside down; some of the kitchen staff were hurried off into the
town to make purchases, others bustled round the fire; the gardeners
plundered the beds and bushes to weave wreaths and nosegays for
decorations; from cellar to roof half a hundred of slaves, white, brown
and black, were toiling with all their might, for each believed that,
by rendering a service to the Patriarch, he might count on the special
favor of Heaven, while their unresting mistress never ceased screaming
out her orders as to what she wished done.
Susannah, who as a girl had been the eldest of a numerous and not
wealthy family, and had been obliged to put her own hand to things,
quite forgot now that she was a woman of position and fortune whom it
ill-beseemed to do her own household work; she was here, there, and
everywhere, and had an eye on all--excepting indeed her own daughter;
but she was the petted darling of the house, brought up to Greek
refinement, whose help in such arduous labors was not to be thought of;
indeed, she would only have been in the way.
When the bishop had taken his leave Katharina was merely desired to be
ready in her best attire, with a nosegay in her hand, to receive the
Patriarch under the awning spread outside the entrance. More than this
the widow did not require of her, and as the girl flew up the stairs
to her room she was thinking: “Orion will be coming directly: it still
wants fully two hours of noon, and if he stays there half an hour that
will be more than enough. I shall have time then to change my dress, but
I will put my new sandals on at once as a precaution; nurse and the
maid must wait for me in my room. They must have everything ready for my
return--perhaps he and Paula may have much to say to each other. He
will not get off without a lecture, unless she has already found an
opportunity elsewhere of expressing her indignation.”
A few minutes later she had sprung to the top of a mound of earth
covered with turf, which she had some time since ordered to be thrown up
close behind the hedge through which she had yesterday made her way. Her
little feet were shod with handsome gold sandals set with sapphires, and
she seated herself on a low bench with a satisfied smile, as though to
assist at a theatrical performance. Some broad-leaved shrubs, placed
behind this place of ambush, screened her to some extent from the heat
of the sun, and as she sat watching and listening in this lurking place,
which she was not using for the first time, her heart began to beat
more quickly; indeed, in her excitement she quite forgot some sweetmeats
which she had brought to wile away the time and had poured into a large
leaf in her lap.
Happily she had not long to wait; Orion arrived in his mother’s
four-wheeled covered chariot. By the side of the driver sat a servant,
and a slave was perched on the step to the door on each side of the
vehicle. It was followed by a few idlers, men and women, and a crowd of
half-naked children. But they got nothing by their curiosity, for
the carruca did not draw up in the road, but was driven into Rufinus’
garden, and the trees and shrubs hid it from the gaze of the expectant
mob, which presently dispersed.
Orion got out at the principal door of the house, followed by the
treasurer; and while the old man welcomed the son of the Mukaukas, Nilus
superintended the transfer of a considerable number of heavy sacks to
their host’s private room.
Nothing of all this had seemed noteworthy to Katharina but the quantity
and size of the bags--full, no doubt, of gold--and the man, whom alone
she cared to see. Never had she thought Orion so handsome; the long,
flowing mourning robe, which he had flung over his shoulder in rich
folds, added to the height of his stately form; his abundant hair, not
curled but waving naturally, set off his face which, pale and grave as
it was, both touched and attracted her ir resistibly. The thought that
this splendid creature had once courted her, loved her, kissed her--that
he had once been hers, and that she had lost him to another, was a pang
like physical agony, mounting from her heart to her brain.
After Orion had vanished indoors, she still seemed to see him; and when
she thrust his image from her fancy, forced to remind herself that he
was now standing face to face with that other, and was looking at Paula
as, a few days since, he had looked at her, the anguish of her soul was
doubled. And was Paula only half as happy as she had been in that hour
of supreme bliss? Ah! how her heart ached! She longed to leap over the
hedge--she could have rushed into the house and flung herself between
Paula and Orion.
Still, there she sat; restless but without moving; wholly under the
dominion of evil thoughts, among which a good one rarely and timidly
intruded, with her eyes fixed on Rufinus’ dwelling. It stood in the
broad sunshine as silent as death, as if all were sleeping. In the
garden, too, all was motionless but the thin jet of water, which danced
up from the marble tank with a soft and fitful, but monotonous tinkle,
while butterflies, dragonflies, bees, and beetles, whose hum she could
not hear, seemed to circle round the flowers without a sound. The birds
must be asleep, for not one was to be seen or broke the oppressive
stillness by a chirp or a twitter. The chariot at the door might have
been spellbound; the driver had dismounted, and he, with the other
slaves, had stretched himself in the narrow strips of shade cast by the
pillars of the verandah; their chins buried in their breasts, they spoke
not a word. The horses alone were stirring-flicking off the flies
with their flowing tails, or turning to bite the burning stings they
inflicted. This now and then lifted the pole, and as the chariot
crunched backwards a few inches, the charioteer growled out a sleepy
“Brrr.”
Katharina had laid a large leaf on her head for protection against the
sun; she did not dare use a parasol or a hat for fear of being seen. The
shade cast by the shrubs was but scanty, the noontide heat was torment;
still, though minute followed minute and one-quarter of an hour after
another crept by at a snail’s pace, she was far too much excited to be
sleepy. She needed no dial to tell her the time; she knew exactly how
late it was as one shadow stole to this point and another to that, and,
by risking the danger to her eyes of glancing up at the sun, she could
make doubly sure.
It was now within three-quarters of an hour of noon, and in that house
all was as still as before; the Patriarch, however, might be expected
to be punctual, and she had done nothing towards dressing but putting
on those gilt sandals. This brought her to swift decision she hurried
to her room, desired the maid not to dress her hair, contenting herself
with pinning a few roses into its natural curls. Then, in fierce haste,
she made her throw on her sea-green dress of bombyx silk edged with fine
embroidery, and fasten her peplos with the first pins that came to hand;
and when the snap of her bracelet of costly sapphires broke, as she
herself was fastening it, she flung it back among her other trinkets as
she might have tossed an unripe apple back upon a heap. She slipped
her little hand into a gold spiral which curled round half her arm, and
gathered up the rest of her jewels, to put them on out of doors as she
sat watching. The waiting-woman was ordered to come for her at noon
with the flowers for the Patriarch, and, in a quarter of an hour after
leaving her lurking place, she was back there again. Just in time;--for
while she was putting on the trinkets Nilus came out, followed by some
slaves with several leather bags which they replaced in the chariot.
Then the treasurer stepped in and with him Philippus, and the vehicle
drove away.
“So Paula has entrusted her property to Orion again,” thought Katharina.
“They are one again; and henceforth there will be endless going and
coming between the governor’s house and that of Rufinus. A very pretty
game!--But wait, only wait.” And she set her little white teeth; but she
retained enough self-possession to mark all that took place.
During her absence indoors Orion’s black horse had been brought into the
garden; a groom on horseback was leading him, and as she watched their
movements she muttered to herself with a smile of scorn: “At any rate he
is not going to carry her home with him at once.”
A few minutes passed in silence, and at last Paula came out, and close
behind her, almost by her side, walked Orion.
His cheeks were no longer pale, far from it, no more than Katharina’s
were; they were crimson! How bright his eyes were, how radiant with
satisfaction and gladness!--She only wished she were a viper to sting
them both in the heel!--At the same time Paula had lost none of her
proud and noble dignity--and he? He gazed at his companion like a rapt
soul; she fancied she could see the folds of his mourning cloak rising
and falling with the beating of his heart. Paula, too, was in mourning.
Of course. They were one; his sorrow must be hers, although she had fled
from his father’s house as though it were a prison. And of course this
virtuous beauty knew full well that nothing became her better than dark
colors! In manner, gait and height this pair looked like two superior
beings, destined for each other by Fate; Katharina herself could not but
confess it.
Some spiteful demon--a friendly one, she thought--led them past her,
so close that her sharp ears could catch every word they said as they
slowly walked on, or now and then stood still, dogged by the agile
water-wagtail, who stole along parallel with them on the other side of
the hedge.
“I have so much to thank you for,” were the first words she caught from
Orion, “that I am shy of asking you yet another favor; but this one
indeed concerns yourself. You know how deep a blow was struck me by
little Mary’s childish hand; still, the impulse that prompted her had
its rise in her honest, upright feeling and her idolizing love of you.”
“And you would like me to take charge of her?” asked Paula. “Such a wish
is of course granted beforehand--only....”
“Only?” repeated Orion.
“Only you must send her here; for you know that I will never enter your
doors again.”
“Alas that it should be so!--But the child has been very ill and can
hardly leave the house at present; and--since I must own it--my mother
avoids her in a way which distresses the child, who is over-excited as
it is, and fills her with new terrors.”
“How can Neforis treat her little favorite so?”
“Remember,” said Orion, “what my father has been to my poor mother. She
is now completely crushed: and, when she sees the little girl, that last
scene of her unhappy husband’s life is brought back to her, with all
that came upon my father and me, beyond a doubt through Mary. She looks
on the poor little thing as the bane of the family?”
“Then she must come away,” said Paula much touched. “Send her to us.
Kind and comforting souls dwell under Rufinus’ roof.”
“I thank you warmly. I will entreat my mother most urgently....”
“Do so,” interrupted Paula. “Have you ever seen Pulcheria, the daughter
of my worthy host?”
“Yes.--A singularly lovable creature!”
“She will soon take Mary into her faithful heart--”
“And our poor little girl needs a friend, now that Susannah has
forbidden her daughter to visit at our house.”
The conversation now turned on the two girls, of whom they spoke as
sweet children, both much to be pitied; and, when Orion observed that
his niece was old for her tender years, Paula replied with a slight
accent of reproach: “But Katharina, too, has ripened much during the
last few days; the lively child has become a sober girl; her recent
experience is a heavy burden on her light heart.”
“But, if I know her at all, it will soon be cast off,” replied Orion.
“She is a sweet, happy little creature; and, of all the dreadful things
I did on that day of horrors, the most dreadful perhaps was the woe I
wrought for her. There is no excuse possible, and yet it was solely
to gratify my mother’s darling wish that I consented to marry
Katharina.--However, enough of that.--Henceforth I must march through
life with large strides, and she to whom love gives courage to become my
wife, must be able to keep pace with me.”
Katharina could only just hear these last words. The speakers now turned
down the path, sparsely shaded from the midday sun by a few trees, which
led to the tank in the centre of the garden, and they went further and
further from her.
She heard no more--still, she knew enough and could supply the rest. The
object of her ambush was gained: she knew now with perfect certainty
who was “the other.” And how they had spoken of her! Not as a deserted
bride, whose rights had been trodden in the dust, but as a child who is
dismissed from the room as soon as it begins to be in the way. But she
thought she could see through that couple and knew why they had spoken
of her thus. Paula, of course, must prevent any new tie from being
formed between herself and Orion; and as for Orion, common prudence
required that he should mention her--her, whom he had but lately
loaded with tenderness--as a mere child, to protect himself against the
jealousy of that austere “other” one. That he had loved her, at any
rate that evening under the trees, she obstinately maintained in her own
mind; to that conviction she must cling desperately, or lose her last
foothold. Her whole being was a prey to a frightful turmoil of feeling.
Her hands shook; her mouth was parched as by the midday heat; she knew
that there were withered leaves between her feet and the sandals she
wore, that twigs had got caught in her hair; but she could not care and
when the pair were screened from her by the denser shrubs she flew back
to her raised seat-from which she could again discover them. At this
moment she would have given all she held best and dearest, to be the
thing it vexed her so much to be called: a water-wagtail, or some other
bird.
It must be very near noon if not already past; she dusted her sandals
and tidied her curly hair, picking out the dry leaves and not noticing
that at the same time a rose fell out on the ground. Only her hands were
busy; her eyes were elsewhere, and suddenly they brightened again,
for the couple on which she kept them fixed were coming back, straight
towards the hedge, and she would soon be able again to hear what they
were saying.