THE SUMMONS OF THE SIGNET.
They walked side by side for some little time without speaking, through
winding paths of alternate light and shade, sheltered by the
latticework of crossed and twisted green boughs where only the amorous
chant of charming birds now and then broke the silence with fitful and
tender sweetness. All the air about them was fragrant and
delicate,--tiny rainbow-winged midges whirled round and danced in the
warm sunset-glow like flecks of gold in amber wine,--while here and
there the distant glimmer of tossing fountains, or the soft emerald
sheen of a prattling brook that wound in and out the grounds, amongst
banks of moss and drooping fern, gave a pleasant touch of coolness and
refreshment to the brilliant verdure of the luxuriant landscape.
"Speaking of creeds, Sah-luma"--said Theos at last, looking down with a
curious sense of compassion and protection at his companion's slight,
graceful form--"What religion is it that dominates this city and
people? To-day, through want of knowledge, it seems I committed a
nearly unpardonable offence by gazing at the beauty of the Virgin
Priestess when I should have knelt face-hidden to her
benediction,--thou must tell me something of the common laws of
worship, that I err not thus blindly again."
Sah-luma smiled.
"The common laws of worship are the common laws of custom,"--he
replied--"No more,--no less. And in this we are much like other
nations. We believe in no actual Creed,--who does? We accept a certain
given definition of a supposititious Divinity, together with the
suitable maxims and code of morals accompanying that definition, ... we
call this Religion, . . and we wear it as we wear our clothing for the
sake of necessity and decency, though truly we are not half so
concerned about it as about the far more interesting details of taste
in attire. Still, we have grown used to our doctrine, and some of us
will fight with each other for the difference of a word respecting
it,--and as it contains within itself many seeds of discord and
contradiction, such dissensions are frequent, especially among the
priests, who, were they but true to their professed vocation, should be
able to find ways of smoothing over all apparent inconsistencies and
maintaining peace and order. Of course we, in union with all civilized
communities, worship the Sun, even as thou must do,--in this one
leading principle at least, our faith is universal!"
Theos bent his head in assent. He was scarcely conscious of the action,
but at that moment he felt, with Sah-luma, that there was no other form
of Divinity acknowledged in the world than the refulgent Orb that
gladdens and illumines earth, and visibly controls the seasons.
"And yet--" went on Sah-luma thoughtfully,--"the well-instructed know
through our scientists and astronomers (many of whom are now
languishing in prison for the boldness of their researches and
discoveries) that the Sun is no divinity at all, but simply a huge
planet,--a dense body surrounded by a luminous, flame-darting
atmosphere,--neither self-acting nor omnipotent, but only one of many
similar orbs moving in strict obedience to fixed mathematical laws.
Nevertheless this knowledge is wisely kept back as much as possible
from the multitude,--for, were science to unveil her marvels too openly
to semi-educated and vulgarly constituted minds, the result would be,
first Atheism, next Republicanism, and finally Anarchy and Ruin. If
these evils,--which like birds of prey continually hover about all
great kingdoms,--are to be averted, we must, for the welfare of the
country and people, hold fast to some stated form and outward
observance of religious belief."
He paused. Theos gave him a quick, searching glance.
"Even if such a belief should have no shadow of a true foundation?" he
inquired--"Can it be well for men to cling superstitiously to a false
doctrine?"
Sah-luma appeared to consider this question in his own mind for some
minutes before replying.
"My friend, it is difficult to decide what is false and what is
true--"he said at last with a little shrug of his shoulders--"But I
think that even a false religion is better for the masses than none at
all. Men are closely allied to brutes, . . if the moral sense ceases to
restrain them they at once leap the boundary line and give as much rein
to their desires and appetites as the hyenas and tigers. And in some
natures the moral sense is only kept alive by fear,--fear of offending
some despotic, invisible Force that pervades the Universe, and whose
chief and most terrible attribute is not so much creative as
destructive power. To propitiate and pacify an unseen Supreme Destroyer
is the aim of all religions,--and it is for this reason we add to our
worship of the Sun that of the White Serpent, Nagaya the Mediator.
Nagaya is the favorite object of the people's adoration,--they may
forget to pay their vows to the Sun, but never to Nagaya, who is looked
upon as the emblem of Eternal Wisdom, the only pleader whose
persuasions avail to soften the tyrannic humor of the Invincible
Devourer of all things. We know how men hate Wisdom and cannot endure
to be instructed, and yet they prostrate themselves in abject crowds
before Wisdom's symbol every day in the Sacred Temple yonder,--though I
much doubt whether such constant devotional attendance is not more for
the sake of Lysia than the Deified Worm!"
He laughed with a little undercurrent of scorn in his laughter,--and
Theos saw as it were, the lightning of an angry or disdainful thought
flashing through the sombre splendor of his eyes.
"And Lysia is..--?" began Theos suggestively.
"The High Priestess of Nagaya," responded Sah-luma slowly--"Charmer of
the god, as well as of the hearts of men! The hot passion of love is to
her a toy, clasped and unclasped so! in the pink hollow of her hand..."
and as he spoke he closed his fingers softly on the air and unclosed
them again with an expressive gesture--"And so long as she retains the
magic of her beauty, so long will Nagaya worship hold Al-Kyris in
check. Otherwise ... who knows!--there have been many disturbances of
late,--the teachings of the Philosophers have aroused a certain
discontent,--and there are those who are weary of perpetual sacrifices
and the shedding of innocent blood. Moreover this mad Khosrul of whom
Niphrata spoke lately, thunders angry denunciations of Lysia and Nagaya
in the open streets, with so much fervid eloquence that they who pass
by cannot choose but hear, . . he hath a strange craze,--a doctrine of
the future which he most furiously proclaims in the language prophets
use. He holds that far away in the centre of a Circle of pure Light,
the true God exists,--a vast all glorious Being who with exceeding
marvellous love controls and guides Creation toward some majestic
end--even as a musician doth melodize his thought from small sweet
notes to perfect chord-woven harmonies. Furthermore, that thousands of
years hence, this God will embody a portion of his own Existence in
human form and will send hither a wondrous creature, half-God,
half-Man, to live our life, die our death, and teach us by precept and
example, the surest way to eternal happiness. 'Tis a theory both
strange and wild!--hast ever heard of it before?"
He put the question indifferently, but Theos was mute. That horrible
sense of a straining desire to speak when speech was forbidden again
oppressed him,--he felt as though he were being strangled with his own
unfalling tears. What a crushing weight of unutterable thoughts
burdened his brain!--he gazed up at the serenely glowing sky in aching,
dumb despair,--till slowly ... very slowly, words came at last like
dull throbs of pain beating between his lips ...
"I think ... I fancy ... I have heard a rumor of such doctrine ... but
I know as little of it as ... as THOU, Sah-luma! ... I can tell thee no
more ... than THOU hast said! ..." He paused and gaining more firmness
of tone went on--"It seems to me a not altogether impossible conception
of Divine Benevolence,--for if God lives at all, He must be capable of
manifesting Himself in many ways both small and great, common and
miraculous, though of a truth there are no miracles beyond what APPEAR
as such to our limited sight and restricted intelligence. But tell
me"--and here his voice had a ring of suppressed anxiety within
it--"tell me, Sah-luma, thine own thought concerning it!"
"I?--I think naught of it!" replied Sah-luma with airy contempt--"Such
a creed may find followers in time to come,--but now, of what avail to
warn us of things that do not concern our present modes of life?
Moreover in the face of all religion, my own opinion should not
alter,--I have studied science sufficiently well to know that there is
NO God!--and I am too honest to worship an unproved and merely
supposititious identity!"
A shudder, as of extreme cold, ran through Theos's veins, and as if
impelled on by some invisible monitor he said almost mournfully:
"Art thou sure, Sah-luma, thou dost not instinctively feel that there
is a Higher Power hidden behind the veil of visible Nature?--and that
in the Far Beyond there may be an Eternity of Joy where thou shalt find
all thy grandest aspirations at last fulfilled?"
Sah-luma laughed,--a clear, vibrating laugh as mellow as the note of a
thrush in spring-time.
"Thou solemn soul!" he exclaimed mirthfully--"My aspirations ARE
fulfilled!--I aspire to no more than fame,--and that I hold,--that I
shall keep so long as this world is lighted by the sun!"
"And what use is Fame to thee in Death!" demanded Theos with sudden and
emphatic earnestness.
Sah-luma stood still,--over his beautiful face came a shadow of intense
melancholy,--he raised his brilliant eyes full of wistful pathos and
pleading.
"I pray thee do not make me sad, my friend!" he murmured
tremulously--"These thoughts are like muttering thunder in my heaven!
Death!".. and a quick sigh escaped him--"'Twill be the breaking of my
harp and heart! ... the last note of my failing voice and eversilenced
song!"
A moisture as of tears glistened on the silky fringe of his
eyelids,--his lips quivered,--he had the look of a Narcissus
regretfully bewailing his own perishable loveliness. On a swift impulse
of affection Theos threw one arm round, his neck in the fashion of a
confiding school-boy walking with his favorite companion.
"Nay, thou shalt never die, Sah-luma!" he said with a sort of
passionate eagerness,--"Thy bright soul shall live forever in a
sunshine sweeter than that of earth's fairest midsummer noon! Thy song
can never be silenced while heaven pulsates with the unwritten music of
the spheres,--and even were the crown of immortality denied to lesser
men, it is, it must be the heritage of the poet! For to him all crowns
belong, all kingdoms are thrown open, all barriers broken down,--even
those that divide us from the Unseen,--and God Himself has surely a
smile to spare for His Singers who have made the sad world joyful if
only for an hour!"
Sah-luma looked up with a pleased yet wondering glance.
"Thou hast a silvery and persuasive tongue!" he said gently--"And thou
speakest of God as if thou knewest one akin to Him. Would I could
believe all thou sayest! ... but alas!--I cannot. We have progressed
too far in knowledge, my friend, for faith.... yet..." He hesitated a
moment, then with a touch of caressing entreaty in his tone went on.
... "Thinkest thou in very truth that I shall live again? For I confess
to thee, it seems beyond all things strange and terrible to feel that
this genius of mine,--this spirit of melody which inhabits my frame,
should perish utterly without further scope for its abilities. There
have been moments when my soul, ravished by inspiration, has, as it
were, seized Earth like a full goblet of wine, and quaffed its
beauties, its pleasures, its loves, its glories all in one burning
draught of song! ... when I have stood in thought on the shadowy peaks
of time, waiting for other worlds to string like beads on my thread of
poesy,--when wondrous creatures habited in light and wreathed with
stars have floated round and round me in rosy circles of fire,--and
once, methought ... 'twas long ago now--I heard a Voice distinct and
sweet that called me upward, onward and away, I know not where,--save
that a hidden Love awaited me!" He broke off with a rapt almost angelic
expression in his eyes, then sighing a little he resumed: "All dreams
of course! ... vague phantoms,--creations of my own imaginative
brain,--yet fair enough to fill my heart with speechless longings for
ethereal raptures unseen, unknown! Thou hast, methinks, a certain faith
in the unsolved mysteries,--but I have none,--for sweet as the promise
of a future life may seem, there is no proof that it shall ever be. If
one died and rose again from the dead, then might we all believe and
hope.. but otherwise ..."
Oh, miserable Theos!--What would he not have given to utter aloud the
burning knowledge that ate into his mind like slow-devouring fire!
Again mute! ... again oppressed by that strange swelling at the heart
that threatened to break forth in stormy sobs of penitence and prayer!
Instinctively he drew Sah-luma closer to his side--his breath came
thick and fast.. he struggled with all his might to speak the words ...
"One HAS died and risen from the dead!"--but not a syllable could he
form of the desired sentence!
"Thou shalt live again, Sah-luma!" was all he could say in low,
half-smothered accents--"Thou hast within thee a flame that cannot
perish!"
Again Sah-luma's eyes dwelt upon him with a curious, appealing
tenderness.
"Thy words savor of sweet consolation! ..." he said half gayly, half
sadly. "May they be fulfilled! And if indeed there is a brighter world
than this beyond the skies, I fancy thou and I will know each other,
there as here, and be somewhat close companions! See!"--and he pointed
to a small green hillock that rose up like a shining emerald from the
darker foliage of the surrounding trees--"Yonder is my point of vantage
whence we shall behold the sun go down like a warrior sinking on the
red field of battle, the chimes are ringing even now for his
departure,--listen!"
They stood still for a space, while the measured, swinging cadence of
bells came pealing through the stillness,--bells of every tone, that
smote the air with soft or loud resonance as the faint wind wafted the
sounds toward them,--and then they began to climb the little hill,
Sah-luma walking somewhat in advance, with a tread as light and elastic
as that of a young fawn.
Theos, following, watched his movements with a strange affection,
--every turn of his head, every gesture of his hand seemed fraught with
meanings as yet inexplicable. The grass beneath their feet was soft as
velvet and dotted with a myriad wild flowers,--the ascent was gradual
and easy, and in a few minutes they had reached the summit, where
Sah-luma, throwing himself indolently on the smooth turf, pulled Theos
gently down by his side. There they rested in silence, gazing at the
magnificent panorama laid out before them,--a panorama as lovely as a
delicately pictured scene of fairy-land. Above, the sky was of a dense
yet misty rose-color,--the sun, low on the western horizon appeared to
rest in a vast, deep, purple hollow, rifted here and there with broad
gashes of gold,--long shafts of light streamed upwards in order like
the waving pennons of an angel-army marching,--and beyond, far away
from this blaze of splendid color, the wide ethereal expanse paled into
tender blue, whereon light clouds of pink and white drifted like the
fluttering blossoms that fall from apple-trees in spring.
Below, and seen through a haze of rose and amber, lay the city of
Al-Kyris,--its white domes, towers and pinnacled palaces rising out of
the mist like a glorious mirage afloat on the borders of a burning
desert. Al-Kyris the Magnificent!--it deserves its name, Theos thought,
as shading his eyes from the red glare he took a wondering and
gradually comprehensive view of the enormous extent of the place. He
soon perceived that it was defended by six strongly fortified walls,
each placed within the other at long equal distances apart, so that it
might have been justly described as six cities all merged together in
one,--and from where he sat he could plainly discern the great square
where he had rested in the morning, by reason of the white granite
obelisk that lifted itself sheer up against the sky, undwarfed by any
of the surrounding buildings.
This gigantic monument was the most prominent object in sight, with the
exception of the sacred temple, which Sah-luma presently pointed
out,--a round, fortress-like piece of architecture ornamented with
twelve gilded towers from which bells were now clashing and jangling in
a storm of melodious persistency. The hum of the city's traffic and
pleasure surged on the air like the noise made by swarming bees, while
every now and then the sweet, shrill tones of some more than usually
clear girl's voice, crying out the sale of fruit or flowers, soared up
song-wise through the luminous, semi-transparent vapor that half-veiled
the clustering house-tops, tapering spires and cupolas in a delicate,
nebulous film.
Completely fascinated by the wizard-like beauty of the scene, Theos
felt as though he could never look upon it long enough to master all
its charms, but his eyes ached with the radiance in which everything
seemed drenched as with flame, and turning his gaze once more toward
the sun, he saw that it had nearly disappeared. Only a blood-red rim
peered spectrally above the gold and green horizon-and immediately
overhead, a silver rift in the sky had widened slowly in the centre and
narrowed at its end, thus taking the shape of a great outstretched
sword that pointed directly downward at the busy, murmuring, glittering
city beneath. It was a strange effect, and made on the mind of Theos a
strange impression,--he was about to call Sah-luma's attention to it,
when an uncomfortable consciousness that they were no longer alone came
over him,--instinctively he turned round, uttered a hasty exclamation,
and springing erect, found himself face to face with a huge black,--a
man of some six feet in height and muscular in proportion, who, clad,
in a vest and tunic of the most vivid scarlet hue, leered
confidentially upon him as their eyes met. Sah-luma rising also, but
with less precipitation, surveyed the intruder languidly and with a
certain haughtiness.
"What now, Gazra? Always art thou like a worm in the grass, crawling on
thine errand with less noise than the wind makes in summer, . . I would
thy mistress kept a fairer messenger!"
The black smiled,--if so hideous a contortion of his repulsive
countenance might be called a smile, and slowly raising his jetty arms
hung all over with strings of coral and amber, made a curious gesture,
half of salutation, half of command. As he did this, the clear, olive
cheek of Sah-luma flushed darkly red,--his chest heaved, and linking
his arm through that of Theos, he bent his head slightly and stood like
one in an enforced attitude of attention. Then Gazra spoke, his harsh,
strong voice seeming to come from some devil in the ground rather than
from a human throat.
"The Virgin Priestess of the Sun and the Divine Nagaya hath need of
thee to-night, Sah-luma!" he said, with a sort of suppressed derision
underlying his words,--and taking from his breast a ring that glittered
like a star, he held it out in the palm of one hand--"And also"--he
added--"of thy friend the stranger, to whom she desires to accord a
welcome. Behold her signet!"
Theos, impelled by curiosity, would have taken the ring up to examine
it, had not Sah-luma restrained him by a warning pressure of his
arm,--he was only just able to see that it was in the shape of a
coiled-up serpent with ruby eyes, and a darting tongue tipped with
small diamonds. What chiefly concerned him however was the peculiar
change in Sah-luma's demeanor,--something in the aspect or speech of
Gazra had surely exercised a remarkable influence upon him. His frame
trembled through and through with scarcely controlled excitement, . .
his eyes shot forth an almost evil fire, . . and a cold, calm, somewhat
cruel smile played on the perfect outline of his delicate month. Taking
the signet from Gazra's palm, he kissed it with a kind of angry
tenderness, . . then replied..
"Tell thy mistress we shall obey her behest! Doubtless she knows, as
she knows all things, that to-night. I am summoned by express command,
to the Palace of our sovereign lord the King.. I am bound thither first
as is my duty, but afterwards ..." He broke off as if he found it
impossible to say more, and waved his hand in a light sign of
dismissal. But Gazra did not at once depart. He again smiled that
lowering smile of his which resembled nothing so much as a hung
criminal's death-grin, and returned the jewelled signet to his breast.
"Afterwards! ... yes.. afterwards!" he said in emphatic yet mock solemn
tones.. "Even so!" Advancing a little he laid his heavy, muscular hand
on Theos's chest, and appeared mentally to measure his height and
breadth--"Strong nerves! ... iron sinews! ... goodly flesh and blood!
..'twill serve!"--and his great, protruding eyes gleamed maliciously as
he spoke,--then bowing profoundly he added, addressing both Sah-luma
and Theos.. "Noble sirs, to-night out of all men in Al-Kyris shall you
be the most envied! Farewell!"--and once more making that curious
salutation which had in it so much imperiousness and so little
obeisance, he walked backward a few paces in the full lustre of the set
sun's after-glow, which intensified the vivid red of his costume and
lit up all the ornaments of clear-cut amber that glittered against his
swarthy skin,--then turning, he descended the hillock so swiftly that
he seemed to have melted out of sight as utterly as a dark mist
dissolving in air.
"By my word, a most sooty and repellent bearer of a lady's greeting!"
laughed Theos lightly, as he sauntered arm in arm with his host on the
downward path leading to the garden and palace--"And I have yet to
learn the true meaning of his message!"
"'Tis plain enough!" replied Sah-luma somewhat sulkily, with the deep
flush still coming and going on his face--"It means that we are
summoned, . . thou as well as I, . . to one of Lysia's midnight
banquets,--an honor that falls to few,--a mandate none dare disobey!
She must have spied thee out this morning--the only unkneeling soul in
all the abject multitude-hence, perhaps, her present desire for thy
company."
There was a touch of vexation in his voice, but Theos heeded it not.
His heart gave a great bound against his ribs as though pricked by a
fire-tipped arrow,--something swift and ardent stirred in his blood
like the flowing of quicksilver, . . the picture of the dusky-eyed,
witchingly beautiful woman he had seen that morning in her gold-adorned
ship, seemed to float between him and the light,--her face shone out
like a growing glory-flower in the tangled wilderness of his thoughts,
and his lips trembled a little as he replied:
"She must be gracious and forgiving then, even as she is fair! For in
my neglect of reverence due, I merited her scorn, . . not her courtesy.
But tell me, Sah-luma, how could she know I was a guest of thine?"
Sah-luma glanced at him half-pityingly, half disdainfully.
"How could she know? Easily!--inasmuch as she knows all things. 'Twould
have been strange indeed had she NOT known!" and he caught at a
down-drooping rose and crushed its fragrant head in his hand with a
sort of wanton petulance--"The King himself is less acquainted with his
people's doings than the wearer of the All-Reflecting Eye! Thou hast
not yet seen that weird mirror and potent dazzler of human sight, . .
no,--but thou WILT see it ere long,--the glittering Fiend-guarding of
the whitest breast that ever shut in passion!" His voice shook, and he
paused,--then with some effort continued--"Yes,--Lysia has her secret
commissioners everywhere throughout the length and breadth of the city,
who report to her each circumstance that happens, no matter how
trifling,--and doubtless we were followed home,--tracked step by step
as we walked together, by one of her stealthy-footed servitors,--in
this there would be naught unusual."
"Then there is no freedom in Al-Kyris,--" said Theos wonderingly--"if
the whole city thus lies under the circumspection of a woman?"
Sah-luma laughed rather harshly.
"Freedom! By the gods, 'tis a delusive word embodying a vain idea!
Where is there any freedom in life? All of us are bound in chains and
restricted in one way or the other,--the man who deems himself
politically free is a slave to the multitude and his own ambition
--while he who shakes himself loose from the trammels of custom and
creed, becomes the tortured bondsman of desire, tied fast with bruising
cords to the rack of his own unbridled sense and appetite. There is no
such thing as freedom, my friend, unless haply it may be found in
death! Come,--let us in to supper,--the hour grows late, and my heart
aches with an unsought heaviness,--I must cheer me with a cup of wine,
or my songs to-night will sadden rather than rouse the King. Come,--and
thou shalt speak to me again of the life that is to be lived
hereafter,"--and he smiled with certain pathos in his smile,--"for
there are times, believe me, when in spite of all my fame and the
sweetness of existence, I weary of earth's days and nights, and find
them far too brief and mean to satisfy my longings. Not the world,--but
worlds--should be the Poet's heritage."
Theos looked at him, with a feeling of unutterable yearning affection,
and regret, but said nothing, . . and together they ascended the steps
of the stately marble terrace and paced slowly across it, keeping as
near to each other as shadow to substance, and thus reentered the
palace, where the sound of a distant harp alone penetrated the perfumed
stillness. It must be Niphrata who was playing, thought Theos, ... and
what strange and plaintive chords she swept from the vibrating strings!
... They seemed laden with the tears of broken-hearted women dead and
buried ages upon ages ago!