WILLING
Hurrying through the corridors of the fortress, she passed the chamber
where Sethos and Agron, who had assiduously emptied their flagon, were
sleeping that sound and dreamless sleep, from which men are with
difficulty aroused until the draughts they have swallowed cease to
affect the brain.
Neither had taken much thought in bestowing himself decently to rest.
The cup-hearer, stretched on the floor, still grasped a goblet in his
hand; while the captain of the gate, retaining, as it seemed, some vague
consciousness that his duties demanded unceasing vigilance, remained
seated at the table, his head pillowed on his arms, his whole faculties
so steeped in slumber that an enemy might have stormed the walls and
penetrated to the heart of the fortress, yet scarcely disturbed his
repose.
With womanly foresight and precaution, Ishtar snatched a loaf of bread
and a handful of dates from the board, lifted mantle, bow and quiver
from the corner where these had been flung aside, and went her way.
Sarchedon, tossing restlessly on his couch, courted sleep in vain. To no
purpose had he quaffed draughts of pure cold water, extinguished his
torch, and resolved to force his faculties into repose.
The veiled figure he had seen on entering the gate thrust itself on his
senses. It might have been--it must have been--Ishtar! She was in the
same town, perhaps under the same roof. And if so, what had been her
fate since they parted? How came she in Ascalon, but by a violence and
treachery that could only have the basest object, the cruellest results.
Each after each, these maddening thoughts seemed to goad and sicken him,
like successive stabs, when their current was suddenly arrested by a
light step on his chamber-floor, the faint rustle of a garment at his
side.
Starting to his feet with an exclamation of defiance, it was smothered
ere spoken by a soft hand laid to his lips, while the dear familiar
voice murmured in his ear,
"Sarchedon my beloved, it is I--your own Ishtar! Hush, for your life! Be
silent, be obedient, and follow me."
Was he dreaming? Was he in his right senses? This, at least, could be no
illusion of fancy. The glowing form panted in his arms, the sweet lips
were glued to his own. Even in that crisis of danger and suspense she
could spare him a moment of rapture, in her clinging close embrace. If
these were dreams--he prayed to Ashtaroth--let him never wake again!
But despite of, perhaps because of, her affection, the woman retained
all her faculties, her common sense and presence of mind, while the man
was lost and bewildered in the tumult of his unexpected happiness. She
girded the sword on his thigh with her own hands, buckled Agron's bow
and quiver at his back, whispered caution once more, and so led him
through gloomy passage and vaulted archway to the outer court.
Here the starlight showed him the loving eyes, the fair, fond face, he
had thought never to see again but in his dreams. Looking down on that
pure open brow, angry suspicions, hideous misgivings fled from his
troubled spirit, as evil dreams and phantoms of the night vanish with
dawn of day.
"I am happy now," she murmured, "and I am safe. To-morrow it would have
been too late."
But for this timely avowal, he might have urged her with a thousand
ill-advised questions, productive only of delay. Now he pressed the hand
that guided him gratefully to his lips, and she knew that he thanked her
from his inmost heart.
"We have not a moment to lose," she whispered, as they made for one
corner of the court, where a continuous chewing of provender, and an
indistinct mass topped by two or three swan-like necks and motionless
heads, denoted that certain camels were at rest. "By to-morrow's dawn we
must be many leagues from Ascalon, and it is now the middle watch of
night. The dromedary that brought me here is the fleetest in all the
land of Shinar. He laughs at the wild ass, and scorns the desert wind in
its wrath. Sarchedon my beloved, if you and I were mounted on him, a
single bowshot outside the gate, we should be safe!"
"They have fleet steeds," he answered, thinking of Merodach, and wishing
the good horse stood ready saddled for him now.
"Steeds!" she repeated. "The fleetest that ever spurned sand would
labour, after that ill-favoured beast, like gorged vultures after the
long-winged hawk of the desert. Rouse him, Sarchedon, and fasten our
provender to his side. Beware! he is surly and savage; but he can travel
far and fast, untiring as a ship on the sea, swift as a bird in the
air."
Thus speaking she helped him to secure the trappings of the unwilling
dromedary, disturbed from its repose, not without many angry
protestations, couched in discordant screams and fierce attempts to
bite. It was not long ere he had mounted and placed her behind him on
the creature's back, which then rose slowly to its knees and feet,
stretched its long neck with an inquiring gesture into the darkness,
blew the dust out of its nostrils, and shuffled with awkward sidelong
gait into the town.
Those soft spongy feet roused no echo in the streets. The dromedary
passed on under its burden, like an ungainly ghost, without disturbing
spearmen in the fortress or archer on the wall.
When the gate was reached, however, the fugitives found it too well
guarded. In Agron's absence, his subordinate was prepared to be
unusually vigilant and alert.
The watchman challenged from the rampart, the archers mustered by
scores, bending their bows; a single torch shed its light on the
officer's warlike face and weapons, the clamps of the ponderous doors,
Sarchedon's bow and quiver, the dromedary's sullen head, and the feet
and hands of Ishtar, as she sat exalted over all.
"None can pass out after nightfall," said the officer, levelling his
spear. "Turn back your beast and go your way. You can come hither again
at dawn."
Sarchedon felt the hand of Ishtar press his shoulder as though to
inculcate silence and caution. Trusting to her resources he held his
peace.
"Where is the captain of the gate?" said she, in a tone of anger deep
and imperious as a man's. "I demand to see Agron; we do not speak with a
common spearman of matters pertaining to the Great King."
His instincts of discipline bade him screen his commander, while he
obeyed an appearance of authority so well sustained.
"Let not my lord be wroth," said he, peering up into the darkness, in
hope of recognising the high official with whom he spoke. "The captain
of the gate is even now visiting his watchmen on the wall. At his return
he will doubtless give my lord liberty to pass out. In the meantime the
royal orders are strict. May the King live for ever!"
Whispering to an archer, he bade him run with all speed, and apprise
Agron of the difficulty, but showed no disposition to relax his own
vigilance at the gate.
"Fool!" exclaimed Ishtar, in the same deep tones. "Will you wear your
head to-morrow at sunrise? or do you wish it set here over the gate,
while your body is flung from the wall to make a morning meal for the
jackals? Know you not this token? Do you dare disavow the signet of
Ninyas in his own royal abode?"
She held out the ring stripped from the Prince's finger in his drunken
sleep, and was not surprised to see the Assyrian officer prostrate
himself humbly before the jewel. He thought the manner of its
forthcoming unaccountable and irregular, the hand that tendered it
strangely white and delicate; but that was no affair of his. The
Prince's signet, here in Ascalon, conferred supreme authority on its
bearer, and he must simply obey.
He lowered his spear; the archers unstrung their bows; the heavy gate
swung back; the dromedary paced leisurely through; and Sarchedon was
alone with Ishtar in the desert--free!
They made but little haste while within bowshot of the walls. To arouse
suspicion would have been fatal. The stars gave light enough for a
practised archer to make sure of his mark. But when they had traversed a
few furlongs, Sarchedon could not resist a smothered cry of triumph,
while he urged the dromedary to its speed. The air from the sea blew
fresh and pleasant, lifting his locks and cooling his temples as he
hurried on, while every sense seemed sharpened, every muscle
strengthened by the rapidity of his flight. Behind him was sorrow,
outrage, and imprisonment; before him freedom, love, and joy. He could
scarce control his feelings; for was not Ishtar leaning on his shoulder?
and had he not gained all he desired in the world?
Looking back in the beloved face of her who was to share his future, it
startled him to see it so pale, that in the starlight it was like the
face of a corpse.
She had borne up bravely through difficulty and danger; but when the
crisis was past, and she knew her lover in safety, the strength that
self-sacrifice and devotion afford a woman at her need failed her
without warning; and she sank heavily against Sarchedon, faint,
helpless, inanimate, but clinging round him to the last.
So the stars paled, the sky brightened, turning to pearly gray, and
clear faint green, primrose, orange, crimson, and molten gold. The sun
rose in his glory, bathing earth and heaven in floods of dazzling light.
The sand glowed, the waste widened, and still the dromedary travelled on
with free, unfaltering strides, swift, straight, and noiseless like an
arrow from a bow.
Ninyas, waking out of his heavy slumbers, looked about him in a dim
confusion of thoughts that gradually resolved themselves to a sense of
irritation tinged with shame.
The voice of Ishtar still seemed ringing in his ears, signs of her
presence--jewels, garments, articles of feminine luxury--were strewed
about the apartment; but she who made the charm of all was nowhere to be
found. He called, he clapped his hands, he rose, yawned, stretched
himself, and observing his finger bared of its accustomed jewel, the
whole truth flashed on him at a glance.
He actually trembled with rage and self-contempt. To have been put off
so long, and thus outwitted at last! He could have inflicted on her the
severest punishment in all the code of Assyrian cruelty, and laughed her
to scorn the while, had she been within reach. His perceptions,
especially where self was concerned, were vivid enough; and the loss of
his signet showed him too clearly that not only had the bird escaped
from his hand, but that she was beyond the walls ere now, flown out of
reach for evermore.
He had as yet vouchsafed no audience to the fugitives from Egypt, and
had indeed taken little notice of their arrival, reported during his
protracted carouse; so he was ignorant that Sarchedon had been his guest
for a night, and thus repaid his hospitality. It was maddening enough,
however, without this aggravation, to reflect that the woman he proposed
so to honour, should have preferred to his royal favour the danger and
hardships of a sudden flight into the wilderness. Ninyas felt he must
avenge himself on anything and everything that came to hand.
The captain of the gate was obviously the first person to be
interrogated, brow-beaten, and disgraced.
Agron, collecting his faculties after his debauch, and learning with
some anxiety from the report of his subordinate, that the gate had been
opened by royal order before the morning watch, was in no wise reassured
when he received a summons to attend the Prince forthwith. Bold as he
had proved himself many a day in battle, his cheek paled, and his
fingers trembled, so that he could hardly draw the buckle of his girdle,
or straighten the quiver at his back.
Ninyas had bathed his temples, combed out his abundant locks, and
adjusted his apparel. Not a trace of his late excess was perceptible
save a slight flush, which perhaps rather enhanced the beauty of his
delicate cheek; and only those who knew him well could have detected in
the mocking calm of that fair womanly face signs of a storm that would
burst anon.
Agron, however, while he prostrated himself before his lord, felt that
he was a doomed man.
"I missed you from the banquet yesterday," said Ninyas, with exceeding
graciousness; "was it that my trusty captain remained to handle bow and
spear at the gate, rather than wine-cup at the board?"
"The Prince hath spoken," answered Agron, steadying his voice by an
effort.
"Not a mouse could have crept through, then, without your sanction,"
continued his lord. "O, I know your vigilance, and shall reward it
richly as it deserves."
Agron could but listen and tremble.
"The fleetest dromedary in the land of Shinar was tethered in the court
of the fortress when the sun set yesterday. I have heard it passed out
of Ascalon, bearing a double burden, before the morning watch. Are these
things so?"
It was obvious that the Prince had already made himself acquainted with
the truth. Agron only faltered out,
"The rider bore the royal signet. What am I, that I should canvass the
commands of my lord?"
The voice of Ninyas grew softer, his manner more gentle every moment.
"You are an Assyrian captain," said he, "a trained man of war from your
youth. Rehearse me, lest I forget them, your duties as chief watchman at
the gate."
Agron felt that the shadow of death was overtaking him fast, while he
replied,
"Thy servant quits not his post on any pretence until relieved, but at
the express command of my lord. He visits the walls."
"Enough!" exclaimed the Prince, bursting into fury at last, while his
cheeks kindled, his eyes blazed, and he looked like an angel possessed
by a fiend. "Coward! and slave! out of your own mouth you are judged, by
your own words you are condemned! All last night you were absent from
your post, passing the wine cup, striking the timbrel--what do I know or
care? And the gate of Ascalon was left open and unguarded as the great
market-place in Babylon. For such an offence there is a fitting
punishment, never yet remitted amongst the sons of Ashur.--Cover his
face, and lead him forth! I have spoken."
Then, while the archers in attendance seized on their late commander to
fulfil the awful sentence, Ninyas turned with a calm brow and sweet
smile to a stately official standing near, and said,
"Those fugitives from Egypt--I can attend to their matters now. Bring
them into my presence."
The official seemed greatly troubled.
"Let not my lord consume me utterly in his displeasure," said he. "One
of them hath escaped in the night, and there is but one left."
It was in vain to calculate the Prince's changing moods. He laughed
aloud.
"The more fool he to stay in the town since the gate stood open," was
his reply. "Put him in the fortress-dungeon, and keep him there on
bitter waters and bread of affliction till I send to bring him out. Now
lead the horses round, and unhood the hawks. I have done enough justice
for one sitting. Let us ride forth into the wilderness to take a prey!"