THE PRINCESS HAS A CREED
"I shall ask you, Sergius, to return to the city to-night, for inquiry
about the fete will be lively tomorrow in the holy houses. And if you
have the disposition to defend me"--
"You doubt me, O Princess?"
"No."
"O little mother, let me once for all be admitted to your confidence,
that in talking to me there may never be a question of my loyalty."
This, with what follows, was part of a conversation between the
Princess Irene and Sergius of occurrence the evening of the fete in the
court heretofore described, being that to which she retired to read the
letter of introduction brought her by the young monk from Father
Hilarion.
From an apartment adjoining, the voices of her attendants were
occasionally heard blent with the monotonous tinkle of water
overflowing the bowls of the fountain. In the shadowy depths of the
opening above the court the stars might have been seen had not a number
of lamps suspended from a silken cord stretched from wall to wall
flooded the marble enclosure with their nearer light.
There was a color, so to speak, in the declaration addressed to her--a
warmth and earnestness--which drew a serious look from the
Princess--the look, in a word, with which a woman admits a fear lest
the man speaking to her may be a lover.
To say of her who habitually discouraged the tender passion, and the
thought of it, that she moved in an atmosphere charged with attractions
irresistible to the other sex sounds strangely: yet it was true; and as
a consequence she had grown miraculously quick with respect to
appearances.
However, she now dismissed the suspicion, and replied:
"I believe you, Sergius, I believe you. The Holy Virgin sees how
completely and gladly."
She went on presently, a tremulous light in her eyes making him think
of tears. "You call me little mother. There are some who might laugh,
did they hear you, yet I agree to the term. It implies a relation of
trust without embarrassment, and a promise of mutual faithfulness
warranting me to call you in return, Sergius, and sometimes 'dear
Sergius.' ... Yes, I think it better that you go back immediately. The
Hegumen will want to speak to you in the morning about what you have
seen and heard to-day. My boatmen can take you down, and arrived there,
they will stay the night. My house is always open to them."
After telling her how glad he was for the permission to address her in
a style usual in his country, he moved to depart, but she detained him.
"Stay a moment. To-day I had not time to deal as I wished with the
charges the Hegumen prefers against me. You remember I promised to
speak to you about them frankly, and I think it better to do so now;
for with my confessions always present you cannot be surprised by
misrepresentations, nor can doubt take hold of you so readily. You
shall go hence possessed of every circumstance essential to judge how
guilty I am."
"They must do more than talk," the monk returned, with emphasis.
"Beware, Sergius! Do not provoke them into argument--or if you must
talk, stop when you have set them to talking. The listener is he who
can best be wise as a serpent.... And now, dear friend, lend me your
good sense. Thanks to the generosity of a kinsman, I am mistress of a
residence in the city and this palace; and it is mine to choose between
them. How healthful and charming life is with surroundings like
these--here, the gardens; yonder, the verdurous hills; and there,
before my door, a channel of the seas always borrowing from the sky,
never deserted by men. Guilt seeks exclusion, does it not? Well,
whether you come in the day or the night, my gate is open; nor have I a
warder other than Lysander; and his javelin is but a staff with which
to steady his failing steps. There are no prohibitions shutting me in.
Christian, Turk, Gypsy--the world in fact--is welcome to see what all I
have; and as to danger, I am defended better than with guards. I strive
diligently to love my neighbors as I love myself, and they know it....
Coming nearer the accusation now. I find here a freedom which not a
religious house in the city can give me, nor one on the Isles, not
Halki itself. Here I am never disturbed by sectaries or partisans; the
Greek and the Latin wrangle before the Emperor and at the altars; but
they spare me in this beloved retiracy. Freedom! Ah, yes, I find it in
this retreat--this escape from temptations--freedom to work and sleep,
and praise God as seems best to me--freedom to be myself in defiance of
deplorable social customs--and there is no guilt in it.... Coming still
nearer the very charge, hear, O Sergius, and I will tell you of the
brass on my gate, and why I suffer it to stay there; since you, with
your partialities, account it a witness against me, it is in likelihood
the foundation of the calumny associating me with the Turk. Let me ask
first, did the Hegumen mention the name of one such associate?"
"No."
The Princess with difficulty repressed her feelings.
"Bear with me a moment," she said; "you cannot know the self-mastery I
require to thus defend myself. Can I ever again be confident of my
judgment? How doubts and fears will beset me when hereafter upon my own
responsibility I choose a course, whatever the affair! Ah, God, whom I
have sought to make my reliance, seems so far away! It will be for Him
in the great day to declare if my purpose in living here be not escape
from guiltiness in thought, from wrong and temptation, from taint to
character. For further security, I keep myself surrounded with good
women, and from the beginning took the public into confidence, giving
it privileges, and inviting it to a study of my daily life. And this is
the outcome! ... I will proceed now. The plate on the gate is a
safeguard"--
"Then Mahommed has visited you?"
The slightest discernible pallor overspread her face.
"Does it surprise you so much? ... This is the way it came about. You
remember our stay at the White Castle, and doubtless you remember the
knight in armor who received us at the landing--a gallant,
fair-speaking, chivalrous person whom we supposed the Governor, and who
prevailed upon us to become his guests while the storm endured. You
recollect him?"
"Yes. He impressed me greatly."
"Well, let me now bring up an incident not in your knowledge. The
eunuch in whose care I was placed for the time with Lael, daughter of
the Prince of India, as my companion, to afford us agreeable diversion,
obtained my consent to introduce an Arab story-teller of great repute
among the tribes of the desert and other Eastern people. He gave us the
name of the man--Sheik Aboo-Obeidah. The Sheik proved worthy his fame.
So entertaining was he, in fact, I invited him here, and he came."
"Did I understand you to say the entertainment took place in Lael's
presence?"
"She was my companion throughout."
"Let us be thankful, little mother."
"Ay, Sergius, and that I have witnesses down to the last incident. You
may have heard how the Emperor and his court did me the high honor of a
visit in state."
"The visit was notorious."
"Well, while the royal company were at table, Lysander appeared and
announced Aboo-Obeidah, and, by permission of the Emperor, the
story-teller was admitted, and remained during the repast. Now I come
to the surprising event--Aboo-Obeidah was Mahommed!"
"Prince Mahommed--son of the terrible Amurath?" exclaimed Sergius. "How
did you know him?"
"By the brass plate. When he went to his boat, he stopped and nailed
the plate to the pillar. I went to look at it, and not understanding
the inscription, sent to town for a Turk who enlightened me."
"Then the hamari was not gasconading?"
"What did he say?"
"He confirmed your Turk."
She gazed awhile at the overflowing of the fountain, giving a thought
perhaps to the masquerader and his description of himself what time he
was alone with her on the portico; presently she resumed:
"One word more now, and I dismiss the brass plate.... I cannot blind
myself, dear friend, to the condition of my kinsman's empire. It creeps
in closer and closer to the walls of Constantinople. Presently there
will be nothing of it left save the little the gates of the capital can
keep. The peace we have is by the grace of an unbeliever too old for
another great military enterprise; and when it breaks, then, O Sergius,
yon safeguard may be for others besides myself--for many
others--farmers, fishermen and townspeople caught in the storm. Say
such anticipation followed you, Sergius--what would you do with the
plate?"
"What would I do with it? O little mother, I too should take counsel of
my fears."
"You approve my keeping it where it is, then? Thank you.... What
remains for explanation? Ah, yes--my heresy. That you shall dispose of
yourself. Remain here a moment."
She arose, and passing through a doorway heavily draped with cloth,
left him to the entertainment of the fountain. Returning soon, she
placed a roll of paper in his hand.
"There," she said, "is the creed which your Hegumen makes such a sin.
It may be heresy; yet, God helping me, and Christ and the Holy Mother
lending their awful help, I dare die for it. Take it, dear Sergius. You
will find it simple--nine words in all--and take this cover for it."
He wrapped the parcel in the white silken cover she gave him, making
mental comparison, nevertheless, with the old Nicaean ordinances.
"Only nine words--O little mother!"
"Nine," she returned.
"They should be of gold."
"I leave them to speak for themselves."
"Shall I return the paper?"
"No, it is a copy.... But it is time you were going. Fortunately the
night is pleasant and starlit; and if you are tired, the speeding of
the boat will rest you. Let me have an opinion of the creed at your
leisure."
They bade each other good-night.
* * * * *
About eight o'clock next morning Sergius awoke. He had dropped on his
cot undressed, and slept the sweet sleep of healthful youth; now,
glancing about, he thought of the yesterday and the spacious garden, of
the palace in the garden, of the Princess Irene, and of the
conversation she held with him in the bright inner court. And the creed
of nine words! He felt for it, and found it safe. Then his thought flew
to Lael. She had exonerated herself. Demedes was a liar--Demedes, the
presumptuous knave! He was to have been at the fete, but had not dared
go. There was a limit to his audacity; and in great thankfulness for
the discovery, Sergius tossed an arm over the edge of the narrow cot,
and struck the stool, his solitary item of furniture. He raised his
head, and looked at the stool, wondering how it came there so close to
his cot. What was that he saw? A fan?--And in his chamber? Somebody had
brought it in. He examined it cautiously. Whose was it? Whose could it
be?--How!--No--but it _was_ the very fan he had seen Lael toss to the
hamari from the portico! And the hamari?
A bit of folded paper on the settle attracted his attention. He
snatched it up, opened, and read it, and while he read his brows knit,
his eyes opened to their full.
"PATIENCE--COURAGE--JUDGMENT!
"Thou art better apprised of the meaning of the motto than thou wert
yesterday.
"Thy seat in the Academy is still reserved for thee.
"Thou mayst find the fan of the Princess of India useful; with me it is
embalmed in sentiment.
"Be wise. THE HAMARI."
He read the scrap twice, the second time slowly; then it fell rustling
to the floor, while he clasped his hands and looked to Heaven. A murmur
was all he could accomplish.
Afterwards, prostrate on the cot, his face to the wall, he debated with
himself, and concluded:
"The Greek is capable of any villany he sets about--of abduction and
murder--and now indeed must Lael beware!"