THE MEETING.
The lower edge of the sun's broad golden disk touched, or seemed to
touch, the rippling waters of the Adriatic, and sea and sky were all
in one general glow, when the form of the expected guest rose over the
slope, and, with joyful arms outstretched towards the group under the
cypresses, he appeared clear and defined upon the bright expanse
behind him. The figure was that of a youth of eighteen or nineteen
years of age, tall for his time of life, and of that form which
promises great after strength. As he stood there, indeed, with his
figure partly concealed by the mantle which fell from his shoulders,
and with the smooth features, the unfurrowed brow, and beardless chin
of youth, turned from the searching rays of the sun, one might have
attributed to him many more years than he had in reality numbered; but
there was the bounding joy of boyhood still in his steps, as, followed
by three persons, among whom the eye of Flavia sought in vain for
Paulinus, he sprang across the sloping ground to meet so many that he
loved. To Flavia his first salute was given in the warm, the touching,
the affectionate kiss of filial love; calling her, as he did so, by
the tender name which his heart always willingly granted to her who
had watched his infancy and formed his boyhood, "My mother!" His next
glance was, certainly, to Ildica, but his words and his embrace were
given, first, to his sister Eudochia, and then even to Ammian, whom he
also called "his brother."
The words, however, were few, and the embrace short, ere he turned to
Ildica, and took her hand. But his aspect was for a moment timid and
uncertain, as if he knew not well in what words and what manner he was
to greet her. Her eye, however, was full of light; her lip smiled with
the irrepressible spirit of joy; her breath seemed to come short with
some thrilling emotion in her bosom; and Theodore, growing bolder as
her hand touched his, drew her, too, to his arms, and pressed a warmer
kiss upon her lips. To her he would not say "My _sister!_" though he
began those words which he had so often used towards her; but he
stopped short, and his lips murmured, "My--my Ildica!"
If any one marked the agitation of either of those two young and happy
beings, it was among the slaves; for Eudochia and Ammian had no eyes
as yet for the slighter indications of the heart's inmost feelings;
and Flavia, without any other observation, asked eagerly, "But where
is Paulinus? Where is your father, Theodore."
"Alas, my mother," replied the youth, "he has been disappointed, and
would not make me a sharer therein. Obliged to go into Cappadocia by
the emperor's commands, he proceeds from C[ae]sarea to escort the
Empress Eudoxia to Jerusalem. But he has promised, if fate be
propitious, to join us all here on his return. He would not let me
bear him company; but having given me the charge of some slight
business at Salona, left me to hasten hither, and wait his coming."
"Let us return homeward, then, Theodore," said the matron, "and you
shall tell us all the news wherewith your young and ever active mind
is loaded. I am sure you have not yet learned, my son, to value all
the things of the world according to their real lightness, and to
suffer what the idle multitude call great events to pass you by as
matters which have been acted over and over again a thousand times
already, and to be enacted still a million times more in the ages yet
to come. Heaven forbid that you should have acquired, since you left
us, such sorrowful wisdom! though your father writes to me that you
have become a man, whereas you left us a boy. But you linger as if you
would fain stay here."
"I ordered the boat to come round hither," replied the youth, "when I
found you were all here; and I would willingly gaze again upon all
these lovely things. I have beheld many lands, dear Ildica," he added,
turning naturally towards her with whom his heart held the nearest
communion--"I have beheld many lands since I left you all on this very
spot; Athens, the city of Constantine, Ida, and Olympus. My feet have
even trodden Tempe; and yet there is no scene so beautiful to my eyes
as that lovely sea, with Bratia, and Bubua, and Olyntha, rising like
living sapphires from its golden bosom, and those grand Autariatian
hills, leading up the soul's flight to heaven."
Without further question, they all once more laid themselves down upon
the turf; feeling that Theodore would gladly see the sun set in that
spot with which so many memories of early happiness were associated;
and for a few minutes they left him in silence to enjoy the delight of
his return. He gazed round the prospect; and it was easy to see that
it was not alone the loveliness that his eye rested on which busied
his thoughts, but that remembrance was eagerly unclasping with her
fairy touch the golden casket of the past, and displaying, one by one,
the treasured and gemlike memories of many joyful hours. As he gazed,
the last effulgent spot of the sun's orb sunk below the sea; and he
turned his look upon Ildica, on whose hand his own had accidentally
fallen. Her eyes were full of liquid light; and her cheek was glowing
as warmly as that sky from which the sun had just departed.
"And now, Theodore," said Flavia, with a smile, "tell us what tidings
you bring; and first, before one word of the wide public news, say,
what of your father? How is he in health? how fares he at the court?
Is he as much loved as ever?"
"I had forgotten," replied Theodore, "in the joy of coming back--in
the dreamlike and scarcely certain feeling of being here once more
among you all--I had forgotten everything else. Paulinus is well, my
mother; and his favour with the emperor and empress higher than ever,
though he is not loved by Chrysapheus; but he fears him not. Here,
Zeno!" he continued, addressing one of the servants who had followed
him, and who had now mingled with the slaves of Flavia--"give me the
case which I bade you bring;" and from a richly-chased silver casket
which the slave laid beside him he drew forth a string of large and
perfect pearls. "These, Eudochia," he said, throwing them over his
sister's neck, "these from the empress, for her goddaughter; and
this," he added, taking the rich collar of emeralds which lay
below--"and this from my father, Paulinus, for his dear Ildica. Many
were the messages of love," he continued, as he placed the splendid
present sent by his father in the hand of the beautiful girl whom it
was to adorn, and, with the playfulness of boyhood not yet passed
away, twined, smiling, the links of emeralds round her arm--"many were
the messages of love my father bade me give to all; and to you, my
mother, I bear this letter: but let me be the first to tell you that
your possession of the palace is confirmed by the emperor, and that
the estates withheld from you by an unjust judge are restored."
"Thank you, my son, thank you," replied Flavia, opening the thread
with which the letter was bound round; "but this light is too faint to
enable me to decipher your father's epistle. Let us to the boat, my
Theodore, and so homeward; for I long to learn more of what has passed
at Byzantium, and the twilight is every moment getting a grayer hue."
The youth lingered no longer, but rose with all the rest; and while
Flavia, talking to Ammian, who often looked behind, led the way over
the upland and down the path towards the sea, Theodore followed, at
some little distance, with Eudochia clinging to his left arm, and with
his right hand clasping that of Ildica. As they went wandering onward
through the sweet-smelling copses of myrtle, which sheltered the
grounds of a neighbouring garden from the east wind, Eudochia asked a
thousand questions of her brother, and marvelled much that he had
grown so tall and strong in the short absence of nine months. Ildica
said not a word; but she listened to the tones of his voice as he
replied to his sister; she felt the touch of his hand as it held hers;
she saw the brother of her love--the more than brother--returned from
a far distance and a long absence; and a new happiness that she had
never known before filled her heart with emotions too intense for
speech. Did she know what she felt? did she investigate the nature of
the busy, tumultuous sensations that then possessed her bosom?
Neither! the absence of one with whom she had dwelt in affection from
her infancy had, indeed, taught her that there were strange feelings
in her heart, different from any that she had ever experienced before;
but, oh! sweet and happy skill of woman, she had closed her eyes
against all investigation of what those feelings were, lest she should
find anything mingling with them which might render them less blessed.
It was not for her to discover for herself that which was reserved for
another to explain.
The considerate slaves lingered somewhat farther still behind, caring
for the cups and vessels which had served the evening meal, and
listening with the wondering ears of hermits to the news brought by
their fellows from the capital of the Eastern world. Much, too, had
those slaves to tell of all the splendid scenes which were hourly
taking place in Constantinople, and the high favour and honour of
their master, Paulinus, at the imperial court. Each feeling his
importance increased by the honours and virtues of his lord, exalted
in no measured terms the power and dignity of Paulinus; and to have
heard the praises of his menials, one might believe that he excelled
in learning and in talents the greatest men of literature's most
golden days, and rivalled in the field the most renowned warriors of
either Greece or Rome. One thing, at all events, was to be gathered
from their discourse, and to be received without abatement; which was,
that he possessed the great and happy talent of making himself loved
by those who served him. Such, indeed, was his character; dignified,
but not haughty, to his equals; respectful, but not slavish, to his
superiors, he had always a kindly word or a warm smile to give to
those whom fortune had placed beneath him. He did not court
popularity; and the vulgar gratulations of the circus would have been
offensive to his ear; but to a menial or to a woman he at once unbent
the calm and philosophic reserve of his demeanour for the time of
their temporary communication; and, with a gleam of kindly warmth, he
cheered all those who approached him, as weaker or less fortunate than
himself. Such a tribute is due to a man whose innocence even was not
his friend, and who awakened jealousies even while he strove to disarm
them.
Speaking thus of their well-loved lord, the slaves followed slowly
till they approached the shore; and then, running forward to make up
for their tardiness by momentary alacrity, they officiously aided the
boatmen to push the boat close up to some gray rocks, which, shining
through the clear blue water for many a foot below the ripple that
checkered the surface, afforded a sort of natural pier for the party
to embark. Flavia and her companions took their seats in the stern,
and six or seven of the slaves placed themselves in the bow, the rest
proceeding along the shore towards the palace. Ammian, leaning over
the side in his fanciful mood, gazed down upon the small waves as they
were dashed from the path of the boat; and then, catching a rippling
gleam of yellow light tinging the crest of one of those tiny billows,
he looked up to the heavens, where, just in that spot of deep sky
towards which the streamer of the aplustrum turned, calm, and large,
and bright, rose Hesperus above the world. He gazed upon it for
several minutes with a look of rapt enjoyment, as if for the time he
had forgotten everything in the universe but that one bright solitary
star. Ildica had hitherto sat between her mother and Theodore,
listening in silence to the brief and broken tales of his late travels
which he was telling; but as a pause ensued, she fixed her eyes upon
Ammian, and watched him with a soft smile, as if she knew what was
passing in his thoughts, and waited to see what turn the fancy would
take. From time to time her eyes appealed to Theodore, and then turned
again to her brother, till at length her sweet musical voice, speaking
her pure native tongue, but slightly touched and softened by the Greek
accent, was heard breaking the momentary silence-which had fallen upon
them all.
"Sing it, Ammian," she said, speaking to his unuttered thoughts, "sing
it! Theodore will hear it well pleased. It is my mother's poetry,
written since you left us, Theodore: sing it, Ammian!"
The boy looked up into his sister's eyes with a gay smile, and then
poured suddenly forth in song a voice clear and melodious as her own.
The first two stanzas he sung alone; but at the end of the second, and
of each that succeeded, all those who knew the music took up the first
as a chorus, sending sweet harmony over the twilight waters, while the
rowers with their oars kept time to his
SONG TO THE EVENING STAR.
I.
Hesperus! Hesperus! in thy bright hand
Bearing thy torch, lit at day's parting beams,
Shed thy sweet influence o'er our dear land,
Sooth thou our slumbers and brighten our dreams.
II.
Hesperus! Hesperus! each closing flower
Yields thee the sigh of her odorous breath,
Thine, too, the nightingale's musical hour,
Thine be the offering of song and of wreath.
Hesperus! Hesperus! &c.
III.
Hesperus! Hesperus! holding thy way
Lone, but serene, 'tween the day and the night,
Guide all our hearts with the same even sway,
Soften each sorrow and calm each delight.
Hesperus! Hesperus! &c.
IV.
Hesperus! Hesperus! star of repose!
Herald of rest to the labours of day!
Through worlds and through ages, where'er thy light glows,
Honour and thanks shall attend on thy ray.
Hesperus! Hesperus! &c.