Brothers and sisters are rarely talkative when they are together. As
Charmian went to Lochias with Archibius, it was difficult for her to
find words, the events of the past few hours had agitated her so deeply.
Archibius, too, could not succeed in turning his thoughts in any other
direction, though important and far more momentous things claimed his
attention.
They walked on silently side by side. In reply to his sister's inquiry
where the newly wedded pair were to be concealed, he had answered that,
spite of her trustworthiness, this must remain a secret. To her second
query, how had it been possible to use the interior of the Temple of
Isis without interruption, he also made a guarded reply.
In fact, it was the control of the subterranean corridors of the
sanctuary which had suggested to Gorgias the idea of carrying Dion
through them to Pyrrhus's fishing-boat. To accomplish this it was only
necessary to have the Temple of Isis, which usually remained open day
and night, left to the fugitive's friends for a short time; and this was
successfully managed.
The historian Timagenes, who had come from Rome as ambassador and
claimed the hospitality of his former pupil Archibius, had been
empowered to offer Cleopatra recognition of her own and her children's
right to the throne, and a full pardon, if she would deliver Mark Antony
into the hands of Octavianus, or have him put to death.
The Alexandrian Timagenes considered this demand both just and
desirable, because it promised to deliver his native city from the man
whose despotic arrogance menaced its freedom, and whose lavish
generosity and boundless love of splendour diminished its wealth. To
Rome, as whose representative the historian appeared, this man's mere
existence meant constant turmoil and civil war. At the restoration of
the flute-player by Gabinius and Mark Antony, Timagenes had been carried
into slavery. Later, when, after his freedom had been purchased by the
son of Sulla, he succeeded in attaining great influence in Rome, he
still remained hostile to Mark Antony, and it had been a welcome charge
to work against him in Alexandria. He hoped to find an ally in
Archibius, whose loyal devotion to the Queen he knew. Arius, Barine's
uncle and Octavianus's former tutor, would also aid him. The most
powerful support of his mission, however, could be rendered by the
venerable chief priest, the head of the whole Egyptian hierarchy. He had
shown the latter that Antony, in any case, was a lost man, and Egypt was
in the act of dropping like a ripe fruit into the lap of Octavianus. It
would soon be in his power to give the country whatever degree of
liberty and independence he might choose. The Cæsar had the sole
disposal of the Queen's fate also, and whoever desired to see her remain
on the throne must strive to gain the good-will of Octavianus.
The wise Anubis had considered all these things, but he owed to
Timagenes the hint that Arius was the man whom Octavianus most trusted.
So the august prelate secretly entered into communication with Barine's
uncle. But the dignity of his high office, and the feebleness of extreme
age, forbade Anubis to seek the man who was suspected of friendship for
the Romans. He had therefore sent his trusted secretary, the young
Serapion, to make a compact as his representative with the friend of
Octavianus, whose severe injuries prevented his leaving the house to go
to the chief priest.
During Timagenes's negotiations with the secretary and Arius, Archibius
came to entreat Barine's uncle to do everything in his power to save his
niece; and, as all the Queen's friends were anxious to prevent an act
which, in these times of excitement, could not fail, on account of its
connection with Dion, a member of the Council, to rouse a large number
of the citizens against her, Serapion, as soon as he was made aware of
the matter, eagerly protested his readiness to do his best to save the
imperilled lovers. He cared nothing for Barine or Dion as individuals,
but he doubtless would have been ready to make a still greater sacrifice
to win the influential Archibius, and especially Arius, who would have
great power through Octavianus, the rising sun.
The men had just begun to discuss plans for saving Barine, when the
Nubian appeared and told Archibius what had been arranged beside Dion's
sick-bed by the freedman and Gorgias. The escape of the fugitives
depended solely upon their reaching the boat unseen, and the surest way
to accomplish this was to use the subterranean passage which the
architect had again opened.
Archibius, to whom the representative of the chief priest had offered
his aid, now took the others into his confidence, and Arius proposed
that Barine should marry Dion in the Temple of Isis, and the couple
should afterwards be guided through the secret passage to the boat. This
proposal was approved, and Serapion promised to reserve the sanctuary
for the wedding of the fugitives for a short time after the departure of
the procession, which was to take place at sunset. In return for this
service another might perhaps soon be requested from the friend of
Octavianus, who greeted his promise with grateful warmth.
"The priesthood," said Serapion, "takes sides with all who are unjustly
persecuted, and in this case bestows aid the more willingly on account
of its great anxiety to guard the Queen from an act which would be
difficult to approve." As for the fugitives, so far as he could see,
only two possibilities were open to them: Cleopatra would cleave to Mark
Antony and go--would that the immortals might avert it!--to ruin, or she
would sacrifice him and save her throne and life. In both cases the
endangered lovers could soon return uninjured--the Queen had a merciful
heart, and never retained anger long if no guilt existed.
The details of the plan were then settled by Archibius, Anukis, and
Berenike, who was with the family of Arius, and the decision was
communicated to the architect. Archibius had maintained the same silence
concerning the destination of the fugitives towards the men composing
the council and Barine's mother as to his sister. With regard to the
mission of Timagenes and the political questions which occupied his
mind, he gave Charmian only the degree of information necessary to
explain the plan she so lovingly promoted; but she had no desire to know
more. On the way home her mind was wholly absorbed by the fear that
Cleopatra had missed her services and discovered Barine's flight. True,
she mentioned the Queen's desire to place her children in Archibius's
charge, but she could not give him full particulars until she reached
her own apartments.
Her absence had not been noticed. The Regent Mardion had received the
procession in the Queen's name, for Cleopatra had driven into the city,
no one knew where.
Charmian entered her apartments with a lighter heart. Anukis opened the
door to them. She had remained undisturbed, and it was a pleasure to
Archibius to give the faithful, clever freedwoman an account of the
matter with his own lips. He could have bestowed no richer reward upon
the modest servant, who listened to his words as if they were a
revelation. When she disclaimed the thanks with which he concluded,
protesting that she was the person under obligation, the expression was
sincere. Her keen intellect instantly recognized the aristocrat's manner
of addressing an equal or an inferior; and he who, in her eyes, was the
first of men, had described the course of events as though she had stood
on the same level. The Queen herself might have been satisfied with the
report.
When she left Charmian's rooms to join the other servants, she told
herself that she was an especially favoured mortal; and when a young
cook teased her about her head being sunk between her shoulders, she
answered, laughing: "My shoulders have grown so high because I shrug
them so often at the fools who jeer at me and yet are not half so happy
and grateful."
Charmian, sorely wearied, had flung herself into an arm-chair, and
Archibius took his place opposite to her. They were happy in each
other's society, even when silent; but to-day the hearts of both were so
full that they fared like those who are so worn out by fatigue that they
cannot sleep. How much they had to tell each other!--yet it was long ere
Charmian broke the silence and returned to the subject of the Queen's
wish, describing to her brother Cleopatra's visit to the house which the
children had built, how kind and cordial she had been; yet, a few
minutes later, incensed by the mere mention of Barine's name, she had
dismissed her so ungraciously.
"I do not know what you intend," she said in conclusion, "but,
notwithstanding my love for her, I must perhaps decide in favour of what
is most difficult, for--when she learns that it was I who withdrew the
daughter of Leonax from her and the base Alexas--what treatment can I
expect, especially as Iras no longer gives me the same affection, and
shows that she has forgotten my love and care? This will increase, and
the worst of the matter is, that if the Queen begins to favour her, I
cannot justly reproach her, for Iras is keener-witted, and has a more
active brain. Statecraft was always odious to me. Iras, on the contrary,
is delighted with the opportunity to speak on subjects connected with
the government of the country, and especially the ceaseless, momentous
game with Rome and the men who guide her destiny."
"That game is lost," Archibius broke in with so much earnestness that
Charmian started, repeating in a low, timid tone:
"Lost?"
"Forever," said Archibius, "unless----"
"The Olympians be praised--that there is still a doubt."
"Unless Cleopatra can decide to commit an act which will force her to be
faithless to herself, and destroy her noble image through all future
generations."
"How?"
"Whenever you learn it, will be too soon."
"And suppose she should do it, Archibius? You are her most trusted
confidant. She will place in your charge what she loves more than she
does herself."
"More? You mean, I suppose, the children?"
"The children! Yes, a hundred times yes. She loves them better than
aught else on earth. For them, believe me, she would be ready to go to
her death."
"Let us hope so."
"And you--were she to commit the horrible deed--I can only suspect what
it is. But should she descend from the height which she has hitherto
occupied--would you still be ready----"
"With me," he interrupted quietly, "what she does or does not do matters
nothing. She is unhappy and will be plunged deeper and deeper into
misery. I know this, and it constrains me to exert my utmost powers in
her service. I am hers as the hermit consecrated to Serapis belongs to
the god. His every thought must be devoted to him. To the deity who
created him he dedicates body and soul until the death to which he dooms
him. The bonds which unite me to this woman--you know their origin--are
not less indestructible. Whatever she desires whose fulfilment will not
force me to despise myself is granted in advance."
"She will never require such things from the friend of her childhood,"
cried Charmian. Then, approaching him with both arms extended joyfully,
she exclaimed: "Thus you ought to speak and feel, and therein is the
answer to the question which has agitated my soul since yesterday.
Barine's flight, the favour and disfavour of Cleopatra, Iras, my poor
head, which abhors politics, while at this time the Queen needs
keen-sighted confidants----"
"By no means," her brother interrupted. "It is for men alone to give
counsel in these matters. Accursed be women's gossip over their toilet
tables. It has already scattered to the four winds many a
well-considered plan of the wisest heads, and an Iras could never be
more fatal to statecraft than just at the present moment, had not Fate
already uttered the final verdict."
"Then hence with these scruples," cried Charmian eagerly; "my doubts are
at an end! As usual, you point out the right path. I had thought of
returning to the country estate we call Irenia--the abode of peace--or
to our beloved little palace at Kanopus, to spend the years which may
still be allotted to me, and return to everything that made my childhood
beautiful. The philosophers, the flowers in the garden, the poets--even
the new Roman ones, of whose works Timagenes sent us such charming
specimens--would enliven the solitude. The child, the daughter of the
man whose love I renounced, and afterwards perhaps her sons and
daughters, would fill the place of my own. As they would have been dear
to Leonax, I, too, would have loved them! This is the guise in which the
future has appeared to me in many a quiet hour. But shall Charmian--who,
when her heart throbbed still more warmly and life lay fair before her,
laid her first love upon the altar of sacrifice for her royal
playfellow--abandon Cleopatra in misfortune from mere selfish scruples?
No, no!--Like you, I too belong--come what may--to the Queen."
She gazed into her brother's face, sure of his approval but, waving his
uplifted hand, he answered gravely: "No, Charmian! What I, a man, can
assume, might be fatal to you, a woman. The present is not sweet enough
for me to embitter it with wormwood from the future. And yet---- You
must cast one glance into its gloomy domain, in order to understand me.
You can be silent, and what you now learn will be a secret between us.
Only one thing"--here he lowered the loud tones of his deep voice--"only
one thing can save her: the murder of Antony, or an act of shameless
treachery which would deliver him into Octavianus's power. This is the
proposal Timagenes brought."
"This?" she asked in a hollow tone, her grey head drooping.
"This," he repeated firmly. "And if she succumbs to the temptation, she
will be faithless to the love which has coursed through her whole life
as the Nile flows through the land of her ancestors. Then, Charmian,
stay, stay under any circumstances, cling to her more firmly than ever,
for then, then, my sister, she will be more wretched--ten, a hundred
fold more wretched than if Octavianus deprives her of everything,
perhaps even life itself."
"Nor will I leave her, come what may. I will remain at her side until
the end," cried Charmian eagerly. But Archibius, without noticing the
enthusiastic ardor, so unusual to his sister's quiet nature, calmly
continued: "She won your heart also, and it seems impossible for you to
desert her. Many have shared our feelings; and it is no disgrace to any
one. Misfortune is a weapon which cleaves base natures like a sword, yet
like a hammer welds noble ones more closely. To you, therefore, it now
seems doubly difficult to leave her, but you need love. The right to
live and guard yourself from the most pitiable retrogression is your
due, as much as that of the rare woman on the throne. So long as you are
sure of her love, remain with her, and show your devotion in every
situation until the end. But the motives which were drawing you away to
books, flowers, and children, weigh heavily in the balance, and if you
lack the anchor of her favour and love, I shall see you perish
miserably. The frost emanating from Cleopatra, if her heart grew cold to
you, the pin-pricks with which Iras would assail you, were you
defenceless, would kill you. This must not be, sister; we will guard
against it---- Do not interrupt me. The counsel I advise you to follow
has been duly weighed. If you see that the Queen still loves you as in
former days, cling to her; but should you learn the contrary, bid her
farewell to-morrow. My Irenia is yours----"
"But she _does_ love me, and even should she no longer----"
"The test is at hand. We will leave the decision to her. You shall
confess that you were the culprit who aided Barine to escape her power
to punish."
"Archibius!"
"If you did not, a series of falsehoods must ensue. Try whether the
petty qualities in her nature, which urged her to commit the fate of
Leonax's daughter to unworthy hands, are more powerful than the nobler
ones. Try whether she is worthy of the self-sacrificing fidelity which
you have given her all your life. If she remains the same as before,
spite of this admission----"
Here he was interrupted by Anukis, who asked if her mistress would see
Iras at this late hour.
"Admit her," replied Archibius, after hastily exchanging glances with
his sister, whose face had paled at his demand. He perceived it and, as
the servant withdrew, he clasped her hand, saying with earnest
affection: "I gave you my opinion, but at our age we must take counsel
with ourselves, and you will find the right path."
"I have already found it," she answered softly with downcast eyes. "This
visitor brought a speedy decision. I must not feel ashamed in Iras's
presence."
She had scarcely finished speaking when the Queen's younger confidante
entered. She was excited and, after casting a searching glance around
the familiar room, she asked, after a curt greeting: "No one knows where
the Queen has gone. Mardion received the procession in her place. Did
she take you into her confidence?"
Charmian answered in the negative, and inquired whether Antony had
arrived, and how she had found him.
"In a pitiable state," was the reply. "I hastened hither to prevent the
Queen from visiting him, if possible. She would have received a rebuff.
It is horrible."
"The disappointment of Parætonium is added to the other burdens,"
observed Archibius.
"A feather compared with the rest," cried Iras indignantly. "What a
spectacle! A shrivelled soul, never too large, in the body of a powerful
giant. Disaster crushes the courage of the descendant of Herakles. The
weakling will drag the Queen's splendid courage with him into the dust."
"We will do our best to prevent it," replied Archibius firmly. "The
immortals have placed you and Charmian at her side to sustain her, if
her own strength fails. The time to test your powers has arrived."
"I know my duty," replied Iras austerely.
"Prove it!" said Archibius earnestly. "You think you have cause for
anger against Charmian."
"Whoever treats my foes so tenderly can doubtless dispense with my
affection. Where is your ward?"
"That you shall learn later," replied Charmian advancing. "But when you
do know, you will have still better reason to doubt my love; yet it was
only to save one dear to me from misery, certainly not to grieve you,
that I stepped between you and Barine. And now let me say--had you
wounded me to the quick, and everything dear to the Greek heart called
to me for vengeance--I should impose upon myself whatever constraint
might be necessary to deny the impulse, because this breast contains a
love stronger, more powerful, than the fiercest hate. And this love we
both share. Hate me, strive to wound and injure one at whose side you
have hitherto stood like a daughter, but beware of robbing me of the
strength and freedom which I need, to be and to offer to my royal
mistress all the assistance in my power. I have just been consulting my
brother about leaving Cleopatra's service."
"Now?" Iras broke in vehemently. "No, no! Not that! It must not be! She
cannot spare you now."
"More easily, perhaps, than you," replied Charmian; "yet in many things
my services might be hard to replace."
"Nothing under the sun _could_ do it," cried Iras eagerly. "If, in these
days of trouble, she should lose you too----"
"Still darker ones are approaching," interrupted Archibius positively.
"Perhaps you will learn all to-morrow. Whether Charmian yields to her
desire for rest, or continues in the service of the Queen, depends on
you. If you wish her to remain you must not render it too hard for her
to do so. We three, my child, are perhaps the only persons at this court
to whom the Queen's happiness is more than their own, and therefore we
should permit no incident, whatever name it may bear, to cloud our
harmony."
Iras threw back her head with angry pride, exclaiming passionately: "Was
it I who injured you? I do not know in what respect. But you and
Charmian--though you have so long been aware that this heart was closed
against every love save one--stepped between me and the man for whom I
have yearned since childhood, and built the bridge which united Dion and
Barine. I held the woman I hated in my grasp, and thanked the immortals
for the boon; but you two--it is not difficult to guess the secret you
are still trying to keep from me--you aided her to escape. You have
robbed me of my revenge; you have again placed the singer in the path
where she must find the man to whom I have a better and older claim, and
who perhaps may still be considering which of us two will be the better
mistress of his house, if Alexas and his worthy brother do not arrange
matters so that we must both content ourselves with thinking tenderly of
a dead man. That is why I believe that I am no longer indebted to you,
that Charmian has more than repaid herself for all the kindness she has
ever showed me."
With these words she hurried to the door, but paused on the threshold,
exclaiming: "This is the state of affairs; yet I am ready to serve the
Queen hand in hand with you as before; for you two--as I have said--are
necessary to her. In other respects--I shall follow my own path."