TWO MASTER MINDS
The stars were shining softly through the mists of a summer night; the
moon had touched the western rim; the winds were sleeping low upon the
pine-clad hills, and Nature, weary, lay in sweet repose.
On such a night, a week since the High Priest met his fate, Saronia went
up the side of Pion to the cave of Endora.
Disguised as she was, Chios did not know her, and she might have passed
by unknown had she not turned towards the place where he waited to
receive her.
She entered, and sat down wearily. There was great anxiety in her eyes.
Chios unfastened the cloak which enveloped her and let it fall back over
her shoulders.
'What ails thee, Saronia?'
'What ails me? My heart is rending; I am weary. The soul truly never
grows old, but the flesh tires. I am tired of all, and would I were at
rest. The surges ever move towards the strand, sometimes gently like the
breaking of the day; but with me always the waves beat ruthlessly around
my imprisoned spirit, until now, like a drowning man clinging to the
last vestige of his wrecked ship, I would fain let go my hold, and sink
backwards into the seething waves which wait to engulf me.'
'Do not despair, Saronia.'
'No, I do not despair. I have ever sought to do the right and know the
truth, and fear not the future.
'I must find the home best suited for this soul, as I have evolved it,
but I feel I have no power to go forward, and I may as well cease my
yearnings for light. Perchance more may be meted to me in the ages
beyond. That I shall live again and move onwards I know. I know this: it
is the jewel left me--it is the anchor of my soul. Break the cordage
which fastens me to it, and I drift aimless, hopelessly.'
'Nay, nay, Saronia, do not talk in such a strain. What weighs so heavily
on thee?'
'The death of the High Priest. Canst thou clear the mystery, Chios?'
He looked towards Endora. The woman stood leaning against the side of
the cave, with eyes aglow, and burning with desire to speak. She stood
forth, firmly erect, with head thrown back.
'I slew him, lady--slew him in self-defence; killed him to save the
truest, noblest woman on earth, and the man who loveth her, Chios the
Greek. He would have strangled me, would have wrenched thy whereabouts
from me--did try--until his iron grip upon my throat well-nigh put out
my life. Now listen, mighty priestess, and you cultured man of Ephesus.
The man I slew killed my love and spirit's aspirations years ago--long
ago. The dead priest, who rose to be the highest in Asia, was _my
husband_--the husband of Endora!'
'Thy husband?' exclaimed Saronia.
'Yea, it is true. He left me to my fate. I followed him hither, watched
his career, and saw the people of Ephesus fooled with his whining
hypocrisy. He knew me not until the fated night. When he fell I stooped
and whispered in his ear my name, but _it was not Endora_! Thou heard'st
the second shriek? The whisper of my name caused it. He shattered my
life and left me to die; but I did not die, neither will I for his
death. My line of life is not broken. I wait events.'
Saronia was speechless, and Chios quivered like a leaf on a restless
tree. Gathering strength, he staggered towards the door to breathe the
air, and the two women were left alone.
Endora felt the power of the priestess, and dared not speak.
'Hast thou told Chios who thou art? Does he know thou art his mother,
and by thine own hand thou hast slain his sire?'
'No, and the secret kills me. Oh that I could die, disappear from the
gaze of my son! Thou canst fancy my bursting soul, how my heart aches to
hear one loving word from my only child! No, no; this cannot be. Endora,
Myrtile the false, accursed, bloodstained, must never be known to Chios,
my son, my son! But when I am gone--it will not be long--when I have
finished here, tell him--tell him all, and that to the last my longing
soul yearned to behold his manly face. Tell him that a mother's
instincts, a mother's love, deadened by the curse, still dwelt within
me. Mighty Saronia, thou wilt be left to him. Give him the love which a
mother could not reveal. As I have said, I shall soon be on my great
journey--yea, before the leaves fall from the trees in autumn.
'Now to business. Intendest thou to deliver me to be weighed in the
scales of justice?'
'No. I mourn over the fatal act. 'Twas done in self-defence. I will not
interfere. Wert thou tried, no one would believe thee. I do. My betrayal
of thee would rest a murder on my own soul. The Fates must rule. Go thy
way, and render thine account in the great hereafter. The gods will
judge thee, and mete out justice. Keep thy counsel. 'Tis better none
should know who thou art. Should I outlive thee, I will tell him, and
say, blackened as thou art, cursed and full of sin, there was yet a
spark of the Divine in thee, a spark which anon shall fire and blaze and
burn the dross, and leave thee pure and unsullied as the air in which
the gods dwell.'
Chios returned within the cave. The women were silent, until the silence
was broken by the footfall of a stranger. It was Judah the Christian.
'What a strange gathering!' murmured Chios, as he went forth to meet his
friend.
Endora glided out like a panther, leaving the two men alone with the
priestess.
Saronia drew her black cloak closely around her, covering her priestly
robes.
Judah knew her. 'Lady of the Temple, thou art safe. Speak; I will not
betray thee. Thou art not the first who came in this way. A young ruler
in Judea came to my Master by night and learned of Him, and what thou
wilt hear from me are the echoes of that Master's voice. Say on.'
Then answered Saronia. 'Behold in me a priestess of the goddess Diana,
skilled in the mysteries of her faith, touching the fringe of knowledge
as it emanates from my divine mistress, carrying with me a belief hoary
with the ages. But a short time since it permeated every cranny of my
being, leaving no room for doubt until I heard from Chios thou hadst won
him to thy faith. Knowing Chios well, and observing his peace, the
things thou hast told him now rise for hearing in my soul. Judah, if
thou hast more of truth than I, then show it me! I have power--power to
cast around us darkness--thick darkness--and anon fill this darkened
cave with spirits of fire, so that it shall blaze with light! Believest
thou this? I do not boast to show this power, but to prove I seek not
power, but truth and peace. Speak.'
Then said he: 'Thou hast no power here. Thou art shorn of thy strength.
The presence of my God is too strong! Invoke thy goddess, or thy gods;
they will be dumb to thee. I challenge thee, invoke thy spirits! Call
them hither, they will be as dead men to thee!'
She arose, towering with majestic beauty, and, stretching forth her
arms, whispered, with a voice full of command:
Spirits of the Temple Altar,
Ye who guard the sacrifice,
Ye whose pinions never weary
Serving Hecate, Diana,
Serving Luna, Queen of Heaven,
Come ye, by my summons bidden,
Light your torches deep in Hades,
Wave your brightness in this darkness,
Fill this place with light and splendour!
But Saronia was powerless. Her strength was gone, and she stood aghast.
Looking first at Chios, then at Judah, she spoke not a word, and her
eyes were filled with tears as she learned a greater than Diana was
there, and the priestess was a broken reed.
It was then Judah spoke:
'Holy Father, by whose power the north was stretched over the empty
space, whose o'ershadowing wings give shelter to unnumbered souls, whose
mercy endureth for ever! Holy Son, reclining on the bosom of the Father
when the morning stars sang together and the sons of God shouted for
joy! Holy Spirit, dispensing peace! Holy Trinity, Great Eternal, Love
illimitable--hear Thy servant, and show us Thy goodness!'
Then a Presence passed between them, and Saronia knew the Christ of God
was there; but He entered not into her soul.
She saw by the smile of peace on the Christian's face that he recognised
his God and was holding communion with Him. And the priestess hid her
face, not daring to look upon that holy sight.
'Saronia,' said Judah, 'thy God stands by! Wilt thou worship?'
She raised her eyes upwards to the rugged roof of the cave, and,
starting to her feet, cried:
'God of gods, if such Thou be--Spirit of the Mighty Ages--hail! I feel
Thy power; it encircles me! I fear Thee, but I do not love. No, no!
Saronia came not here to be captured or fascinated by fleeting spasm of
fear! My mind is wrought to think and judge dispassionately. No show of
power, no tinge of joy or veil of peace, will hold me off from the
circle of my faith, which hath taught me knowledge deep and high, all
glinting with flames of truth, strong as the moon gives when
harvest-time is here. What I ask for is more light--sunlight--that may
show me the truth with radiant splendour of a summer day. Canst thou,
holy man, bestow this?'
For a moment the power of her mighty mind astounded Judah. Never before
had he encountered such a being. He looked on her as she stood erect in
all her loveliness, saying:
'Thou art a princess amongst spirits! The wisdom of man will not
convince thee. Thou must be taught of God! Thy knowledge is great,
Saronia; but listen. Many mighty spirits have wheeled and circled around
the throne of the Eternal, dashing from their wings the heavenly sheen,
the brilliancy brighter than a myriad suns, as they touched the halo of
splendour which surrounds Jehovah. Many of them fell--fell, I say--like
lightning from heaven, shorn of their radiance through dire rebellion.
They knew the very source of truth, gazed upon the very ocean of it,
and fell, carrying knowledge with them and a mighty power, by which
they now work evil instead of good, leaving peace and love behind.
'Perchance thou hast been taught of them--filled thy pitcher at their
polluted fountain. Wilt thou be satisfied with it, or rise and rise
until thou ministereth to Deity? Thou, too, wilt be a rebel if thou
closest thy gates against the truth. Thine eyes are clouded, and mercy
waits with loving hands to take the veil away!
'Thou seekest light, and even now, although thou knowest it not, thou
art on the very verge of the kingdom. And, mark well, when the set time
comes, and thy vision is purified, the glory of God will surround thee
like a mighty ocean without a shore. The index of my mind points that I
should say good-bye. The seed which has been sown must die, and from it
rise life and beauty to be crowned with a harvest of flowers. Farewell,
mighty Saronia! Farewell, beloved Chios!'
And he passed out into the starlight, the angels of God guarding him in
mighty phalanx, deep and broad like a river of glory.
Endora saw him leave, and a shudder passed over her as she trod the
ground sanctified by the footsteps of the holy man.
'Where hast thou been, Endora?' said the priestess.
'Listening,' said the witch. 'I did my best not to play eavesdropper,
but by an irresistible power I was drawn to the half-open door, and
heard the words of Judah, and, on my soul, I would I were as pure as
he!'
'Art thou also being tainted with this new faith, Endora?'
'No, no; but what may I expect from mine own? I am borne on the outer
circle of it, accursed, knowing my fate. Who can blame me if I strike
from my orbit like a wandering star, with the hope of coming within the
influence of some other God greater than Hecate? Perhaps He may take me
to His care. Did I not hear Judah say the mercy of his God endureth for
ever? If so, may I not taste of it? I will try, and ere to-morrow's sun
will have arisen I will have burnt my charms, my books, my Ephesian
spells, and stand out fearlessly, awaiting the passing by of the Great
Spirit of that mighty God. Perchance, seeing a naked, starving soul, He
may throw around me a garment of mercy, a mantle of love, and I may yet
atone, and worship at His feet. There is a story told that He sheltered
Magdalene--and why not me? Most noble priestess, I read thee well enough
to know thy great mind, stored with the greater mysteries, is broad
enough, high enough, deep enough to let a struggling spirit work out its
best destiny. I know thou wilt consent that to Endora be allowed the
fullest light she can get to lead on to something better than the cold
doom which now awaits her. Say, noble priestess--say! I feel I am
parting from thee. Some links in the mighty spell which binds me are
already broken. Some great influence is at work moulding my soul to
something good. I will let it work. I will be passive in the hands of
this great Potter, and out of darkness--gross darkness and sin--He may
bring forth a being clothed with radiant immortality. Already a new dawn
upheaveth, and more peace than Endora hath experienced in a lifetime now
broods over her.'
And she fell on the cold, stony floor, and lay at the feet of the
priestess.
Saronia, the High Priestess, arose, looking lovingly towards Chios.
'Go thy way, dear Chios; leave this woman to me. No good can now come of
thy presence. Our mission is accomplished. We have spoken with him we
came to see. His words are graven on my heart, and will have due
consideration; and greater than all he said is the fact that here before
me lies this Endora, a marvel to my soul--a being steeped in sin,
accursed of the goddess, moved upon by this mighty spiritual influence,
talking of peace, and a dawn of love, mercy, and radiant life! This to
me is far greater miracle than if Mount Pion had changed places with
Coressus, or the deep blue sea rolled over the Ephesian plain, making
the great Temple of Diana an island of marble in the midst of the
waters.'
Chios and Saronia stood at the entrance of that lonely cave.
'Let me kiss thee, Saronia; let me place my hand upon thy head. I have
been silent, knowing a greater than I was present. I knew thee too well
to meddle with the workings of thy mind. We shall meet again shortly,
shall we not, loved one?'
'Probably.'
'Thou wilt send by the hand of Endora?'
'Good-bye, Chios--good-bye! Take this flower of myrtle from me.'
She plucked it from her bosom, kissed its fragrant petals, and gave it
to him.