THE REVOLT OF NATURE.
At Daphne’s request Thoth departed, but as he left her he said with
great emphasis—
“Remember that I have spoken the truth, and if thou wilt thou mayest
become queen of the earth!”
His words excited her heart to a burning activity, and thought after
thought rushed swiftly through her mind. At first she tried to persuade
herself that he must have told her incredible fictions, but the more
she thought the less she doubted. She had seen enough of Thoth’s power
to believe to the full in the truth of his narrative. She had seen
him with a touch of his staff strike dead the ogress, and she had had
abundant proofs of the absolute obedience of his people.
For a time, however, she wondered how a few hundred men could possibly
destroy all the nations of the earth. She thought of Thoth and his
dread compatriots flying through the air, and discharging missiles on
the helpless people beneath; but even with this advantage it seemed to
her that numbers must prevail.
She said to herself, “Even Apollo’s arm would grow weary of such
endless archery;” and then, suddenly, she remembered how the arrows of
Apollo had smitten the Greeks before Troy.
Plague and pestilence had been the shafts hurled from his bow. She
recalled Thoth’s allusion to Apollo, and a dreadful presentiment told
her that it was in this manner that the nations of the earth were to be
destroyed. In the same moment all the circumstances of Thoth’s first
appearance in Athens flashed through her mind: she remembered the grim
indifference of the false merchants to the plague, and it was but a
step to accuse them of bringing with them to Greece this unheard-of
destruction. She knew it had been ascribed to poisoned wells, that the
like had never been seen before, and she became convinced that Thoth
was the originator of this fearful crime.
Then she wept as she thought that perhaps already the whole of the
races of Greece had perished. This now became the most urgent object of
her inquiry, and she tried to bring back every word, every tone, every
gesture of Thoth when he had spoken of returning to Greece.
With all the appearance of truth he had promised to restore her, but at
the same time he had said she would not wish to remain: he had spoken
of allowing her to choose other Grecian maidens to share her fate; but
why had he not sent before another expedition after the first had been
destroyed?
Certainly the man appeared to have an overpowering passion for her,
and under its influence he had seemed to speak the truth; but then
she feared he might have coloured his narrative to please her in what
seemed to him the best manner.
Was it likely that a being so inhuman in other respects should hesitate
at breaking his word, as indeed before he had threatened to do? From
the past and present she looked to the future, and she saw at once
that there was no time to lose, and that she must decide on a plan of
action. But what could one ignorant woman do against the mysterious
intelligence arrayed against her? Plan after plan arose, only to be
rejected, and she soon became aware that her only hope of defeating
these enemies of mankind lay in Thoth’s love.
Even here, however, there seemed to be an insuperable difficulty,
for she knew now that nothing could ever induce her to return his
passion, and she feared that a simulated affection would only hasten
her destruction. How could she hope to play on a being gifted with such
knowledge and strength of purpose? She dreaded also in her secret heart
that by some magical fascination her mind would give way, and that she
might be led, in the weakness of a moment, to sacrifice herself to him.
She felt still how near she had been to a complete surrender of her
whole will to his.
Would she have the strength to resist?
Before Thoth returned, she had worked out her scheme.