When Evadne returned to Alpheus and to her foster-mother, she was silent
concerning her discovery, and it seemed the more sweet to her for being
secret. Her thoughts made pilgrimages to the temple hidden by the
laurels once set to adorn it, and the deserted God of Youth and Immortal
Beauty drew from her an untaught and voiceless worship. How tedious now
appeared the labors of their half-savage life!--for the ensnaring of
fish and the gathering of fruits for the little household gave the child
no leisure to climb the hill a second time, to seek the lost temple, now
all her own. Two weary days had passed, and on the morning of the third
Evadne performed all her labors, such as they were, of field or of the
house.
Eleusa was absorbed in the art, new to her, of repairing a broken net,
when the child abruptly fled away into the forest, crying out, "I go to
seek wild grapes." She would not hear the voices calling her back. She
gained rapidly the path, already familiar, and wherein every bough and
every leaf seemed expectant of her coming footsteps.
Hamadryads veiled themselves, each in her conscious tree, eluding human
approach. She steals more gently along, that she may haply surprise a
vision. The little grassy plain appears beyond the wavering
oak-branches. It is reached at last, and there,--surely it is no
delusion,--there rests a sleeping youth! Another step, and she bent
aside the boughs. He stands erect, listening.
"It is the god!" she cries; and, falling back, would have been
precipitated from the rock, had not the youth rapidly bounded forward
and grasped her hand.
"Little one, beautiful child," he cried, "do not fear me! I have indeed
played the god formerly, to scare from my hunting-ground the poor fools
who dread the anger of Apollo. Tell me, who are you, thus wandering in
the awful garden of the gods? Who brought you hither, and what name has
been given you?"
Trembling still, and not knowing how to relate it, Evadne stammered
forth some words of her history. Her senses were bewildered by the
beauty of the hunter-boy, who now appeared how different from the marble
god! Bold, and as if ever victorious, with an undaunted brow, like
Bacchus seen through the tears of sad Ariadne awakened. Strong and swift
were his limbs, as those of a panther. His cheek was ruddy, and his
half-naked form was brown, as those appear who dwell not under a roof,
but in the uncertain shade of the forest. His locks were black and
wildly disordered, and his eyes were most like to a dark stream lighted
with golden flashes; but the laughing beauty of his lip no emblem could
convey.
Soon, seated on the turf, the story of each child was related.
"I am nobly born," said the boy, "but I love the life of a hunter. My
father has left me alone, and when I am a man, I, too, shall follow him
to Rome. But liberty is sweeter than honor or power. I escape often from
my tutor, who suspects not where I hide myself, and range all the
forests. Embarking by night, in former years, I often visited this
island. I know where to gather fruits and seek vineyards among the
ruined huts of the village beneath us. By night I descend and gather
them, for my free wanderings by day caused the fishermen to relate that
a god walked upon the shore. When some, more curious or bold, turned
their prows hitherward, to observe what form moved upon the hill, I
rolled great rocks down, with a thundering noise, into the sea, and have
terrified all men from the spot."
"We now call the vineyards and gardens ours," said Evadne, "but it
appears they truly belong to you. Descend to the shore and we will share
with you, not only the ripest clusters of the vines, but wine and loaves
which the fisherman brings us."
"Bring me hither the wine, and I will gladly drink of it, nor waste one
drop in oblation; but I must not descend to the shore, and you must be
silent concerning me, for my tutor offers large rewards to any one who
will disclose where I hide myself. The slaves on the coast here are
ready to betray me. I have watched them sailing near the island, lured
by the promise of a handful of gold, but not daring to land upon it,
lest they should behold, against his will, a divine being."
"Then I will climb up hither and bring you the fruits," said Evadne.
"Nay, my bird," answered the boy, "lay them only on the altar, below,
and when it is safe to descend, call me."
"If I call softly, you cannot hear me; and I cannot call loudly enough
to reach you upon this hill."
"The secrets of the island are not known to you," her companion said,
and arose quickly; "follow me,--I will teach you. You know not why
Apollo is listening? It is for the good of the worshippers, who care not
to mount the hill to adore him. Above the town stands an altar; voices
uttered there are brought up hither by an echo. There the pious repaired
once, and laid their gifts, and songs and the music of flutes sounded in
honor of the deity, who was held too sacred to be approached. Hold me
not too sacred, little one!--you shall approach without fear; but give
me your voice at this altar, when your foster-father sleeps."
"But what shall I call you?" cried the laughing Evadne.
"Call _Hylas_. Echo has often repeated, the name, they say, in the
country of Mysia, and these groves shall learn it of you! Now follow me
over the floor of the temple,--but lightly! lightly! See how the god
would warn us away! He nods on his pedestal; even the loud thunder may
some day cause his fall; already he is half shaken down from his shrine
by earthquakes."
Then, firmly, bold Hylas held trembling Evadne, who glanced for an
instant down the leafy passage of echoes.