"The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth his
handiwork.
"Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge."
And the women in their turn took up the chant, and from their grateful
breasts rose clear and strong the Psalm of David:
"Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy
name.
"Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits.
"Who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases.
"Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with loving-
kindness and tender mercies."
Melissa listened breathlessly to the singing, of which she could hear
every word; and how gladly would she have mingled her voice with theirs
in thanksgiving to the kind Father in heaven who was hers as well as
theirs! There lay His wondrous works before her, and her heart echoed
the verse:
"Who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with loving-
kindness and tender mercies," as though it were addressed especially to
her and sung for her by the choir of women.
The gods of whom she had but just been thinking with pious remembrance
appeared to her now as beautiful, merry, sportive children, as graceful
creatures of her own kind, in comparison with the Almighty Creator and
Ruler of the universe, whose works among the nations, whose holy name,
whose wonders, greatness, and loving-kindness these songs of praise
celebrated. The breath of His mouth dispersed the whole world of gods to
whom she had been wont to pray, as the autumn wind scatters the many-
tinted leaves of faded trees. She felt as though He embraced the garden
before her with mighty and yet loving arms, and with it the whole world.
She had loved the Olympian gods; but in this hour, for the first time,
she felt true reverence for one God, and it made her proud to think that
she might love this mighty Lord, this tender Father, and know that she
was beloved by Him. Her heart beat faster and faster, and she felt as
though, under the protection of this God, she need never more fear any
danger.
As she looked out again at the palm-trees beyond the tamarisks, above
whose plumy heads the evening star now rode in the azure blue of the
night sky, the singing was taken up again after a pause; she heard once
more the angelic greeting which had before struck her soul as so
comforting and full of promise when she read it in the Gospel:
"Glory to God on high, on earth peace, good-will toward men."
That which she had then so fervently longed for had, she thought, come to
pass. The peace, the rest for which she had yearned so miserably in the
midst of terror and bloodshed, now filled her heart-all that surrounded
her was so still and peaceful! A wonderful sense of home came over her,
and with it the conviction that here she would certainly find those for
whom she was longing.
Again she looked up to survey the scene, and she was now aware of a white
figure coming toward her from the tamarisk hedge. This was Euryale. She
had seen Agatha among the worshipers, and had quitted the congregation,
fearing that the sick girl might wake and find no one near her who cared
for her or loved her. She crossed the grass plot with a swift step. She
had passed the fountain; her head came into the moonlight, and Melissa
could see the dear, kind face. With glad excitement she called her by
name, and as the matron entered the veranda she heard the convalescent's
weak voice and hastened to her side. Lightly, as if joy had made her
young again, she sank on her knees by the bed of the resuscitated girl to
kiss her with motherly tenderness and press her head gently to her bosom.
While Melissa asked a hundred questions the lady had to warn her to
remain quiet, and at last to bid her to keep silence.
First of all Melissa wanted to know where she was. Then her lips
overflowed with thankfulness and joy, and declarations that she felt as
she was sure the souls in bliss must feel, when Euryale had told her in
subdued tones that her father was living, that Diodoros and her brother
had found a refuge in the house of Zeno, and that Andreas, Polybius, and
all dear to them were quite recovered after those evil days. The town
had long been rid of Caesar, and Zeno had consented to allow his daughter
Agatha to marry Alexander.
In obedience to her motherly adviser, the convalescent remained quiet for
a while; but joy seemed to have doubled her strength, for she desired to
see Agatha, Alexander, and Andreas, and--she colored, and a beseeching
glance met Euryale's eyes--and Diodoros.
But meanwhile the physician Ptolemaeus had come into the room, and he
would allow no one to come near her this evening but Zeno's daughter.
His grave eyes were dim with tears as, when taking leave, he whispered to
the Lady Euryale:
"All is well. Even her mind is saved."
He was right. From day to day and from hour to hour her recovery
progressed and her strength improved. And there was much for her to see
and hear, which did her more good than medicine, even though she had been
moved to fresh grief by the death of her brother and many friends.
Like Melissa, her lover and Alexander had been led by thorny paths to the
stars which shine on happy souls and shed their light in the hearts of
those to whom the higher truth is revealed. It was as Christians that
Diodoros and Alexander both came to visit the convalescent. That which
had won so many Alexandrians to the blessings of the new faith had
attracted them too, and the certainty of finding their beloved among the
Christians had been an added inducement to crave instruction from Zeno.
And it had been given them in so zealous and captivating a manner that,
in their impressionable hearts, the desire for learning had soon been
turned to firm conviction and inspired ardor.
Agatha was betrothed to Alexander.
The scorn of his fellow-citizens, which had fallen on the innocent youth
and which he had supposed would prevent his ever winning her love, had in
fact secured it to him, for Agatha's father was very ready to trust his
child to the man who had rescued her, whom she loved, and in whom he saw
one of the lowly who should be exalted.
Alexander was not told of Philip's death till his own wounds were healed;
but he had meanwhile confided to Andreas that he had made up his mind to
fly to a distant land that he might never again see Agatha, and thus not
rob the brother on whom he had brought such disaster of the woman he
loved. The freedman had heard him with deep emotion, and within a few
hours after Andreas had reported to Zeno the self-sacrificing youth's
purpose, Zeno had gone to Alexander and greeted him as his son.
Melissa found in Agatha the sister she had so long pined for; and how
happy it made her to see her brother's eyes once more sparkle with
gladness! Alexander, even as a Christian and as Agatha's husband,
remained an artist.
The fortune accumulated by Andreas--the solidi with which he had formerly
paid the scapegrace painter's debts included--was applied to the erection
of a new and beautiful house of God on the spot where Heron's house had
stood. Alexander decorated it with noble pictures, and as this church
was soon too small to accommodate the rapidly increasing congregation,
he painted the walls of yet another, with figures whose extreme beauty
was famous throughout Christendom, and which were preserved and admired
till gloomy zealots prohibited the arts in churches and destroyed their
works.
Melissa could not be safe in Alexandria. After being quietly married in
the house of Polybius, she, with her young husband and Andreas, moved to
Carthage, where an uncle of Diodoros dwelt. Love went them, and, with
love, happiness. They were not long compelled to remain in exile; a few
months after their marriage news was brought to Carthage that Caesar had
been murdered by the centurion Martialis, prompted by the tribunes
Apollinaris and Nemesianus Aurelius. Immediately on this, Macrinus, the
praetorian prefect, was proclaimed emperor by the troops.
The ambitious man's sovereignty lasted less than a year; still, the
prophecy of Serapion was fulfilled. It cost the Magian his life indeed;
for a letter written by him to the prefect, in which he reminded him of
what he had foretold, fell into the hands of Caracalla's mother, who
opened the letters addressed to her ill-fated son at Antioch, where she
was then residing. The warning it contained did not arrive, however,
till after Caesar's death, and before the new sovereign could effectually
protect the soothsayer. As soon as Macrinus had mounted the throne the
persecution of those who had roused the ire of the unhappy Caracalla was
at an end. Diodoros and Melissa, Heron and Polybius, could mingle once
more with their fellow-citizens secure from all pursuit.
Diodoros and other friends took care that the suspicion of treachery
which had been cast on Heron's household should be abundantly disproved.
Nay, the death of Philip, and Melissa's and Alexander's evil fortunes,
placed them in the ranks of the foremost foes of tyranny.
Within ten months of his accession Macrinus was overthrown, after his
defeat at Immae, where, though the praetorians still fought for him
bravely, he took ignominious flight; Julia Domna's grandnephew was then
proclaimed Caesar by the troops, under the name of Heliogabalus, and the
young emperor of fourteen had a statue and a cenotaph erected at
Alexandria to Caracalla, whose son he was falsely reputed to be. These
two works of art suffered severely at the hands of those on whom the
hated and luckless emperor had inflicted such fearful evils. Still, on
certain memorial days they were decked with beautiful flowers; and when
the new prefect, by order of Caracalla's mother, made inquiry as to who
it was that laid them there, he was informed that they came from the
finest garden in Alexandria, and that it was Melissa, the wife of the
owner, who offered them. This comforted the heart of Julia Domna, and
she would have blessed the donor still more warmly if she could have
known that Melissa included the name of her crazed son in her prayers to
her dying day.
Old Heron, who had settled on the estate of Diodoros and lived there
among his birds, less surly than of old, still produced his miniature
works of art; he would shake his head over those strange offerings, and
once when he found himself alone with old Dido, now a freed-woman, he
said, irritably: "If that little fool had done as I told her she would be
empress now, and as good as Julia Domna. But all has turned out well--
only that Argutis, whom every one treats as if our old Macedonian blood
ran in his veins, was sent yesterday by Melissa with finer flowers for
Caracalla's cenotaph than for her own mother's tomb--May her new-fangled
god forgive her! There is some Christian nonsense at the bottom of it,
no doubt. I stick to the old gods whom my Olympias served, and she
always did the best in everything."
Old Polybius, too, remained a heathen; but he allowed the children to
please themselves. He and Heron saw their grandchildren brought up as
Christians without a remonstrance, for they both understood that
Christianity was the faith of the future.
Andreas to his latest day was ever the faithful adviser of old and young
alike. In the sunshine of love which smiled upon him his austere zeal
turned to considerate tenderness. When at last he lay on his death-bed,
and shortly before the end, Melissa asked him what was his favorite verse
of the Scriptures, he replied firmly and decidedly:
"Now the fullness of time is come."
"So be it," replied Melissa with tears in her eyes. He smiled and
nodded, signed to Diodoros to draw off his signet ring--the only thing
his father had saved from the days of his wealth and freedom--and desired
Melissa to keep it for his sake. Deeply moved, she put it on her finger;
but Andreas pointed to the motto, and said with failing utterance:
"That is your road--and mine--my father's motto: Per aspera ad astra. It
has guided me to my goal, and you--all of you. But the words are in
Latin; you understand them? By rough ways to the stars--Nay what they
say to me is: Upward, under the burden of the cross, to bliss here and
hereafter--And you too," he added, looking in his darling's face. "You
too, both of you; I know it."
He sighed deeply, and, laying his hand on Melissa's head as she knelt by
his bed, he closed his faithful eyes in the supporting arms of Diodoros.