In the course of the afternoon the Vekeel rode across to the prison in
Memphis. He expected to find the bishop there, but instead he was met
with the news that Plotinus was dead of the pestilence.
This was a malignant stroke of fate; for with the bishop perished the
witness who could have betrayed to him the scheme plotted for the rescue
of the nuns.--But no! The patriarch, too, no doubt, knew all.
Still, of what use was that at this moment? He had no time to lose, and
Benjamin could hardly be expected to return within three weeks.
Obada had met Paula's father in the battle-field by Damascus, and it had
often roused his ire to know that this hero's name was held famous even
among the Moslems. His envious soul grudged even to the greatest that
pure honor which friend and foe alike are ready to pay; he did not
believe in it, and regarded the man to whom it was given as a time-
serving hypocrite.
And as he hated the father so he did the daughter, though he had never
seen her. Orion's fate was sealed in his mind; and before his death he
should suffer more acutely through the execution of Paula, whether she
denied or owned her guilt. He might perhaps succeed in making her
confess, so he desired that she should at once be brought into the
judge's council-room; but he failed completely in his attempt, though he
promised her, through the interpreter, the greatest leniency if she
admitted her guilt and threatened her with an agonizing death if she
refused to do so. His prisoner, indeed, was not at all what he had
expected, and the calm pride with which she denied every accusation
greatly impressed the upstart slave. At first he tried to supplement the
interpreter by shouting words of broken Greek, or intimidating her by
glaring looks whose efficacy he had often proved on his subordinates but
without the least success; and then he had her informed that he possessed
a document which placed her guilt beyond doubt. Even this did not shake
her; she only begged to see it. He replied that she would know all about
it soon enough, and he accompanied the interpreter's repetition of the
answer with threatening gestures.
He had met with shrewd and influential women among his own people; he had
seen brave ones go forth to battle, and share the perils of a religious
war, with even wilder and more blood-thirsty defiance of death than the
soldiers themselves; but these had all been wives and mothers, and
whenever he had seen them break out of the domestic circle, beyond which
no maiden could ever venture, it was because they were under the dominion
of some passionate impulse and a burning partisanship for husband or son,
family or tribe. The women of his nation lived for the most part in
modest retirement, and none but those who were carried away by some
violent emotion infringed the custom.
But this girl! There she stood, immovably calm, like a warrior at the
head of his tribe. There was something in her mien that quelled him, and
at the same time roused to the utmost his desire to make her feel his
power and to crush her pride. She was as much taller than the women of
his nation as he was taller than any other captain in the Moslem army;
prompted by curiosity, he went close up to her to measure her height by
his own, and passed his hand through the air from his swarthy throat to
touch the crown of her head; and the depth of loathing with which she
shrank from him did not escape his notice. The blood mounted to his
head; he desired the interpreter to inform her that she was to hope for
no mercy, and inwardly devoted her to a cruel death.
Pale, but prepared to meet the worst, Paula returned to the squalid room
she occupied with her faithful Betta.
Her arrival at the prison had been terrible. The guards had seemed
disposed to place her in a room filled with a number of male and female
criminals, whence the rattle of their chains and a frantic uproar of
coarse voices met her ear; however, the interpreter and the captain of
the town-watch had taken charge of her, prompted by Martina's promise of
a handsome reward if they could go to her next morning with a report that
Paula had been decently accommodated.
The warder's mother-in-law, too, had taken her under her protection.
This woman was the inn-keeper's wife from the riverside inn of Nesptah,
and she at once recognized Paula as the handsome damsel who had refreshed
herself there after the evening on the river with Orion, and whom she had
supposed to be his betrothed. She happened to be visiting her daughter,
the keeper's wife, and induced her to do what she could to be agreeable
to Paula. So she and Betta were lodged in a separate cell, and her gold
coin proved acceptable to the man, who did his utmost to mitigate her
lot. Indeed, Pulcheria had even been allowed to visit her and to bring
her the last roses that the drought had left in the garden.
Susannah had carried out her purpose of sending her food and fruit; but
they remained in the outer room, and the messenger was desired to explain
that no more were to be sent, for that she was supplied with all she
needed.
Confident in her sense of innocence, she had looked forward calmly to her
fate building her hopes on the much lauded justice of the Arab judges.
But it was not they, it would seem, who were to decide it, but that black
monster Orion's foe; crushed by the sense of impotence against the
arbitrary despotism of the ruthless villain, whose victim she must be,
she sat sunk in gloomy apathy, and hardly heard the old nurse's words of
encouragement.
She did not fear death; but to die without having seen her father once
more, without saying and proving to Orion that she was his alone, wholly
his and for ever--that was too hard to bear.
While she was wringing her hands, in a state verging on despair, the man
who had ruined the happiness, the peace, and the fortunes of so many of
his fellow-creatures was cantering through the streets of Memphis,
mounted on the finest horse in Orion's stable, and firmly determined to
make his defiant prisoner feel his power. When he reached the great
market-place in the quarter known as Ta-anch he was forced to bring his
steed to a quieter pace, for in front of the Curia--the senatehouse--an
immense gathering of people had collected. The Vekeel forced his way
through them with cruel indifference. He knew what they wanted and paid
no heed to them. The hapless crowd had for some time past met here
daily, demanding from the authorities some succor in their fearful need.
Processions and pilgrimages had had no result yesterday, so to-day they
besieged the Curia. But could the senate make the Nile rise, or stay the
pestilence, or prevent the dates dropping from the palm-trees? Could
they help, when Heaven denied its aid?
These were the questions which the authorities had already put at least
ten times to the shrieking multitude from the balcony of the town hall,
and each time the crowd had yelled in reply: "Yes--yes. You must!--it is
your duty; you take the taxes, and you are put there to take care of us!"
Even yesterday the distracted creatures had been wholly unmanageable and
had thrown stones at the building: to-day, after the fearful
conflagration and the death of their bishop, they had assembled in vast
numbers, more furious and more desperate than ever. The senators sat
trembling on their antique seats of gilt ivory, the relics of departed
splendor imitated from those of the Roman senators, looking at each other
and shrugging their shoulders while they listened to a letter which had
just reached them from the hadi. This document required them, in
conformity with Obada's determination, to make known to the populace,
by public proclamation and declaration, that any citizen whose house had
been destroyed by the fire of the past night would be granted ground and
building materials without payment, at Fostat across the Nile, where he
might found a new home provided he would settle there and embrace Islam.
This degrading offer must be announced: no discussion or recalcitrancy
could help that.
And what could they, for their part, do for the complaining crowd?
The plague was snatching them away; the vegetables, which constituted
half their food at this season, were dried up; the river, their palatable
and refreshing drink, was poisoned; the dates, their chief luxury,
ripened only to be rejected with loathing. Then there was the comet in
the sky, no hope of a harvest--even of a single ear, for months to come.
The bishop dead, all confidence lost in the intercessions of the Church,
God's mercy extinct as it would seem, withdrawn from the land under
infidel rule!
And they on whose help the populace counted,--poor, weak men, councillors
of no counsel, liable from hour to hour to be called to follow those who
had succumbed to the plague, and who had but just quitted their vacant
seats in obedience to the fateful word.
Yesterday each one had felt convinced that their necessity and misery had
reached its height, and yet in the course of the night it had redoubled
for many. Their self-dependence was exhausted; but there still was one
sage in the city who might perhaps find some new way, suggest some new
means of saving the people from despair.
Stones were again flying down through the open roof, and the members of
the council started up from their ivory seats and sought shelter behind
the marble piers and columns. A wild turmoil came up from the market-
place to the terror-stricken Fathers of the city, and the mob was
hammering with fists and clubs on the heavy doors of the Curia. Happily
they were plated with bronze and fastened with strong iron bolts, but
they might fly open at any moment and then the furious mob would storm
into the hall.
But what was that?
For a moment the roar and yelling ceased, and then began again, but in a
much milder form. Instead of frenzied curses and imprecations shouts now
rose of "Hail, hail!" mixed with appeals: "Help us, save us, give us
council. Long live the sage!" "Help us with your magic, Father!"
"You know the secrets and the wisdom of the ancients!" "Save us, Save
us! Show those money-bags, those cheats in the Curia the way to help
us!"
At this the president of the town-council ventured forth from his refuge
behind the statue of Trajan--the only image that the priesthood had
spared--and to climb a ladder which was used for lighting the hanging
lamps, so as to peep out of the high window.
He saw an old man in shining white linen robes, riding on a fine white
ass through the crowd which reverently made way for him. The lictors of
the town marched before him with their fasces, on to which they had tied
palm branches in token of a friendly embassy. Looking further he could
see that behind the old man came a slave, besides the one who drove his
ass, carrying a quantity of manuscript scrolls. This raised his hopes,
for the scrolls looked very old and yellow, and no doubt contained a
store of wisdom; nay, probably magic formulas and effectual charms.
With a loud exclamation of "Here he comes!" the senator descended the
ladder; in a few minutes the door was opened with a rattling of iron
bolts, and it was with a sigh of relief that they saw the old man come in
and none attempt to follow him.
When Horapollo entered the council-chamber he found the senators sitting
on their ivory chairs with as much dignified calm as though the meeting
had been uninterrupted; but at a sign from the president they all rose to
receive the old man, and he returned their greeting with reserve, as
homage due to him. He also accepted the raised seat, which the president
quitted in his honor while he himself took one of the ordinary chairs at
his side.
The negotiation began at once, and was not disturbed by the crowd, though
still from the market-place there came a ceaseless roar, like the
breaking of distant waves and the buzzing of thousands of swarming bees.
The sage began modestly, saying that he, in his simplicity, could not
but despair of finding any help where so many wise men had failed; he was
experienced only in the lore and mysteries of the Fathers, and he had
come thither merely to tell the council what they had considered
advisable in such cases, and to suggest that their example should be
followed.
He spoke low but fluently, and a murmur of approval followed; then, when
the president went on to speak of the low state of the Nile as the root
of all the evil, the old man interrupted him, begging them to begin by
considering the particular difficulties which they might attack by their
own efforts.
The pestilence was in possession of the city; he had just come through
the quarter that had been destroyed by the fire, and had seen above fifty
sick deprived of all care and reduced to destitution. Here something
could be done; here was a way of showing the angry populace that their
advisers and leaders were not sitting with their hands in their laps.
A councillor then proposed that the convent of St. Cecilia, or the now
deserted and dilapidated odeum should be given up to them; but Horapollo
objected explaining very clearly that such a crowd of sick in the midst
of the city would be highly dangerous to the healthy citizens. This
opinion was shared by his friend Philippus, who had indeed commended the
plan he had to propose as the only right one. Whither had their
forefathers transported, not merely their beneficent institutions,
but their vast temples and tomb-buildings which covered so much space?
Always to the desert outside the town. Arrianus had even written these
verses on the gigantic sphinx near the Pyramids.
"The gods erewhile created these far-shining forms, wisely sparing the
fields and fertile corn-bearing plain."
The moderns had forgotten thus to spare the arable land, and they had
also neglected to make good use of the desert. The dead and plague-
stricken must not be allowed to endanger the living; they must therefore
be lodged away from the town, in the Necropolis in the desert.
"But we cannot let them be under the broiling sun," cried the president.
"Still less," added another, "can we build a house for them in a day."
To this Horapollo replied:
"And who would be so foolish as to ask you to do either? But there are
linen and posts to be had in Memphis. Have some large tents pitched in
the Necropolis, and all who fall sick of the pestilence removed there at
the expense of the city and tended under their shade. Appoint three or
four of your number to carry this into execution and there will be a
shelter for the roofless sick in a few hours. How many boatmen and
shipwrights are standing idle on the quays! Call them together and
in an hour they will be at work."
This suggestion was approved. A linen-merchant present exclaimed: "I can
supply what is needed," and another who dealt in the same wares, and
exported this famous Egyptian manufacture to remote places, also put in a
word, desiring that his house might have the order as he could sell
cheaper. This squabble might have absorbed the attention of the meeting
till it rose, and perhaps have been renewed the next day, if Horapollo's
proposal that they should divide the commission equally had not been
hastily adopted.
The populace hailed the announcement that tents would be erected for the
sick in the desert, with applause from a thousand voices. The deputies
chosen to superintend the task set to work at once, and by night the most
destitute were safe under the first large hospital tent.
The old man settled some other important questions in the same way,
always appealing to the lore of the ancients.
At length he spoke of the chief subject, and he did so with great caution
and tact.
All the events of the last few weeks, he said, pointed to the conclusion
that Heaven was wroth with the hapless land of their fathers. As a sign
of their anger the Immortals had sent the comet, that terrible star whose
ominous splendor was increasing daily. To make the Nile rise was not in
the power of men; but the ancients--and here his audience listened with
bated breath--the ancients had been more intimately familiar with the
mysterious powers that rule the life of Nature than men in the later
times, whether priests or laymen. In those days every servant of the
Most High had been a naturalist and a student, and when Egypt had been
visited by such a calamity as that of this year, a sacrifice had been
offered--a precious victim against which all mankind, nay and all his own
feelings revolted; still, this sacrifice had never failed of its effect,
no, never. Here was the evidence--and he pointed to the manuscripts in
his lap.
The councillors had begun to be restless in their seats, and first the
president and then the others, one after another, exclaimed and asked:
"But the victim?"
"What did they sacrifice?"
"What about the victim?"
"Allow me to say no more about it till another time," said the old man.
"What good could it do to tell you that now? The first thing is to find
the thing that is acceptable to the gods."
"What is it?"
"Speak--do not keep us on the rack!" was shouted on all sides; but he
remained inexorable, promising only to call the council together when the
right time should come and desiring that the president would proclaim
from the balcony that Horapollo knew of a sacrifice which would cause the
Nile at last to rise. As soon as the right victim could be found, the
people should be invited to give their consent. In the time of their
forefathers it had never failed of its effect, so men, women, and
children might go home in all confidence, and await the future with new
and well-founded hopes.
And this announcement, with which the president mingled his praises of
the venerable Horapollo, had a powerful effect. The crowd hallooed with
glee, as though they had found new life. "Hail, hail !" was shouted
again and again, and it was addressed, not merely to the old man who had
promised them deliverance, but also to the Fathers of the city, who felt
as if a fearful load had fallen from their souls.
The old man's scheme was, to be sure, not pious nor rightly Christian;
but had the power of the Church been in any way effectual? And this
having failed they must of their own accord have had recourse to means
held reprobate by the priesthood. Magic and the black arts were
genuinely Egyptian; and when faith had no power, these asserted
themselves and superstition claimed its own. Though Medea had been taken
by surprise and imprisoned, this had not been done to satisfy the law,
but with a view to secretly utilizing her occult science for the benefit
of the community. In such dire need no means were too base; and though
the old man himself was horrified at those he proposed he was sure of
public approbation if only they had the desired result. If only they
could avert the calamity the sin could be expiated, and the Almighty was
so merciful!
The bishop had a seat and voice in the council, but Fate itself had saved
them from the dilemma of having to meet his remonstrances.
When Horapollo went out into the market-place he was received with
acclamations, and as much gratitude as though he had already achieved the
deliverance of the people and country.
What had he done?--Whether the work he had set going were to fail or to
succeed he could not remain in Memphis, for in either case he would never
have peace again. But that did not daunt him; it would certainly be very
good for the two women to be removed from the perilous neighborhood of
the Arab capital, and he was firmly determined to take them away with
him. For his dear Philip, too, nothing could be better than a
transplantion into other soil.
At the house of Rufinus he now learnt the fate that had fallen on Paula.
She was out the way, at any rate for the present; still, if she should be
released to-morrow or the day after, or even a month hence, she would be
as great a hindrance as ever. His plots against her must therefore be
carried out. His own isolation provoked him, and what a satisfaction it
would be if only he should succeed in stirring up the Egyptian Christians
to the heathen deed to which he was endeavoring to prompt them.
If Paula should be condemned to death by the Arabs, the execution of the
scheme would be greatly promoted; and now the first point was to ensure
the favor of the black Vekeel, for everything depended on his consent.
Joanna and Pulcheria thought him more good-humored and amiable than they
had ever known him; his proposal that he and Philippus should join their
household was hailed with delight even by little Mary, and the women
conducted him all over the house, supporting his steps with affectionate
care. All he saw there pleased him beyond measure. Such neatness and
comfort could only exist where there was a woman's eye to direct and
watch over everything. The rooms on the ground floor, which had been the
master's, should be his, and the corresponding wing on the other side
could be made ready for Philippus. The dining-room, the large ante-
chamber, and the viridarium would be common ground, and the upper story
was large enough for the women and any guests. He would move in as soon
as he had settled some business he had in hand.
It must be something of a pleasant nature, for as the old man spoke of it
his sunken lips mumbled with satisfaction, while his sparkling eyes
seemed to say to Pulcheria: "And I have something good in store for you,
too, dear child."
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Thin-skinned, like all up-starts in authority