FLOTSON OF THE MIDDLE SEA.
In the evening of that day upon which Arius encountered the strange old
eremite upon the mountainside, draggled skirts of clouds swept across
the northern horizon, and distant lightnings gleamed upon the waves.
During the night the storm came nearer and nearer, and before sunrise
the wind roared wildly over the Baucalis farm, and the troubled sea
broke in foam and thunder for many a league along the coast. All day
the tempest raged, but with nightfall the clouds broke away, although
the turbulent waves continued to roll and tumble on the coast, and the
angry waters gurgled through the narrow entrance into the little bay
upon which Baucalis fronted. The dwellers at the farm watched the
magnificent display from their open windows, but saw no sign of any ship
belabored by the storm, and, after their usual religious exercises,
retired to rest, thankful that there seemed to be no wreck along their
coasts. During the night the sea ran down, and when Arius, early in the
beautiful morning, went to the garden's edge beside the water, there was
only a gentle swell perceivable upon the bosom of the deep, and a faint
murmur of the waters crowding into and out of the narrow opening of the
bay with a gurgling noise from which the farm derived its name. The lad
pursued his usual occupation, until his attention was caught by a sound
under the bank below him, as if some one gently and regularly struck
upon the rock; and the boy then stepped forward, and, parting with his
hands the fringe of shrub and weeds that grew upon the verge of the
land, he gazed down into the waters of the bay, and at once discovered
that the unusual sounds were made by the striking of the ends of some
spars that composed a small raft against the rock, with the rise and
fall of every wave. He also saw that two long spars or fragments of a
ship's mast had been fastened across two others so as to form a small
square between them, and that a large bull's hide was securely stretched
over this square, leaving the four ends of the timbers extending beyond
it. He also saw the outline of a human form lying supinely upon the
hide, and of a smaller figure, with its head resting upon the other,
both covered over with a bright-hued woolen quilt.
The lad called loudly to his father, who was at work in an adjacent
field, but at a considerable distance from him, and, as soon as he had
caught his attention, Arius sprang down the bank to ascertain whether
the persons so quietly lying upon the raft were still alive. The ends
of the timbers projected far beyond the hide upon which they lay, and
the boy found himself in deep water almost at his first step from the
shore; but he had been accustomed to daily baths in the bay from
childhood, and without fear or hesitation he boldly dashed in between
the projecting timbers toward the hide on which the bodies lay. The
noise he made in calling Ammonius, and in dashing through the water,
roused up one of the sleepers on the raft, and she slightly raised her
head, and with her hand threw back the woolen covering, and Arius saw
the swarthy face of a young Egyptian girl of twelve turned upon him with
wide-open, wondering eyes. The other form was that of a woman, but she
neither spoke nor moved, and Arius thought she must be dead. But the
girl did speak, and the boy thought she used the Egyptian tongue,
although he could not understand her words. Then he said, "Maiden,
canst thou speak in Greek."
A swift gleam of intelligence broke over the child's wan face, and she
joyfully answered: "Yea! for in Alexandria Greek is the common speech of
all, whether they be Romans, Egyptians, or Jews!"
"Art thou wet?"
"Yea," she said, "soaked in salt water for I know not how long; but I
have slept soundly, and mamma has not even yet waked up."
"If thou art so thoroughly wet already, a little more water will not
hurt thee; so put thine arms about my neck, hold fast, and I will carry
thee to land."
"But mother!" she cried; and then becoming frightened that she did not
awake, she kissed her passionately, saying: "Mamma! mother! wake up! We
have drifted to the shore!"
Then the poor lady murmured words that neither of them could comprehend,
but she made no attempt to move, and seemed to be talking unconsciously.
Then Arius took the girl's hand in his, saying gently: "My father will
soon be here, and together we can take thy mother from the raft. Come
thou with me."
Then the girl raised herself up into a sitting posture, and Arius,
holding to the spar with one hand, with the other drew her down into the
sea beside him, saying: "Now put up thine arms and hold on tightly; it
is but a few feet to the shore."
And the girl said, "I can swim as well as thou, but I am weary and cold
and hungry, and will put one hand on thy shoulder." And when she had
done so the boy went hand over hand along the spar, and drew himself and
her rapidly shoreward, until his feet rested firmly upon the bottom, and
then he caught the child up in his arms and lifted her up to the dry
ground.
By this time, Ammonius, coming with all speed, had reached the bank
above them, and at one swift, intelligent glance comprehended the scene
in all its pitiful details; then he sprang down the bank beside them,
and said unto Arius, "Doth the woman yet live?"
"Yea, father, she was talking even now; but I scarcely think she knew
what things she said."
"Run thou unto the house swiftly, tell thy mother, and bring hither a
saw."
And the boy sprang up the bank instantly and ran homeward. Then
Ammonius spoke kindly to the girl, saying, "How farest thou, little
maiden?"
And the child said: "I am well enough, but wet and hungry. But mamma is
ill. Please bring her to the land."
"Yea, maiden; soon will my son return with a saw, wherewith I can saw
off two of the timbers where they cross the other two, and so draw the
raft up close to the land, and then lift thy mother gently and safely to
the shore. Dost thou understand me, child?"
"Yea," she answered, "and I see that it is best to wait. But I want my
mother; she is sick indeed."
Very soon the agile youth returned, bringing the saw with him, and
Ammonius immediately swam out to the bull's hide, and sawed away two of
the timbers at the intersection thereof, and quickly drew the raft close
up against the shore, and took up the quilt and cast it to Arius,
telling him to spread it out upon the ground, and in his strong arms
lifted up the unconscious woman and bore her up the bank and gently laid
her upon the quilt. Soon Arete and old Thopt joined them; and Arius and
his mother took each an end of the quilt upon which the woman lay, and
Ammonius gathered up the other two ends, and they bore her gently but
swiftly to the cottage; and old Thopt took the girl's hand in hers and
followed them as quickly as her growing infirmities permitted.
Arete and old Thopt stripped the poor lady of her elegant apparel that
was soaked through with sea-water, and rubbed her vigorously with woolen
cloths, clothed her with warm woolen gowns out of Arete's wardrobe, and
gave her hot tea made of such shrubs as were known to their simple
domestic pharmacy. The sufferer manifestly got much relief from this
treatment, but it was only too apparent that the terrible exposure to
which she had been subjected had taken hold upon the very roots of life
in her beautiful but delicate frame. Her unconscious murmurs were
uttered in the Egyptian tongue, and, no sooner had old Thopt heard it,
than a strange excitement seized her, and she answered the lady in the
same strange speech, crooning over her like a mother over a sick child,
or more like some affectionate animal licking its wounded young; for the
Egyptian speech evidently shows the syllabication into articulate sounds
of thoughts that were primarily expressed in signs and grimaces--the
translation of brute means of communication into words; and its original
rudimentary form is as direct and unveiled in the expression of passion
and emotion as the actions of an animal could be.
The maiden, Theckla, having been well rubbed, well clad in dry garments,
and well fed with hot soup and viands, seemed almost free from any ill
effects of her long exposure upon the raft; and, being assured that her
mother was tenderly cared for, rapidly recovered her strength and
spirits.
The famous medical school at Cyrene educated many men in all the
learning of a profession which was then in its infancy, and so
thoroughly infested with charlatanism that even the most eminent
professors of the art of healing commanded but small respect among
intelligent people; and the Christians especially had no faith in their
pretended ability to cure disease. In ordinary cases they trusted to
careful nursing, and the curative power of nature in people whose
freedom from vice and whose simple, healthful manner of life gave the
patient every chance of recovery, without the use of incantations,
charms, and poisons, which then constituted the chief resources of
professional pharmacy; and in desperate cases they anointed the stricken
one with oil, obtained the prayers of the Church in his behalf, and
calmly awaited the issue; having neither any inordinate love of life nor
any distressful fear of death, and looking upon even a fatal issue of
the illness as a change that was often better than recovery--a happy
release from the cares and uncertainties of earthly life, that was
neither to be too rashly sought for nor too anxiously avoided. Hence
the women at the farm themselves assumed the care of their interesting
patient, and gave her constant and affectionate attention, but no drugs
except such simple remedies as were in common family use, of all of
which old Thopt had a very thorough knowledge. The old woman believed
that sound and refreshing sleep is the secret of health and longevity,
and that no one would die so long as this blessing was obtainable; and
hence, in her opinion, the poppy was a panacea. The bark of certain
species of the willow she knew to be good against malarial fevers, and
this was her favorite remedy in every disease which manifested a
remittent or intermittent form. She had no hesitation in declaring that
the lady would be ill a long time, and that whether she would live or
die must depend upon the vital forces she had to draw upon; for old
Thopt had always remained at least a semi-pagan, and, if there was any
Christianity in her, it was inextricably tangled up with the remnants of
the old religion which she had learned in her home upon the Nile. She
loved her mistress passionately and devotedly, just as a faithful dog
might have loved, and she refused to accept the freedom offered to her
by Arete when, under the influence and instructions of Ammonius, that
lady had become a Christian; because one of the fixed and immovable
articles of her ancient creed was that many Egyptians were created to be
slaves, and that she was one of them; so that it would have been a
measureless impiety for her to set up herself to be free. If she had any
hatred of the new religion, it grew out of the fact that that faith
undertook to abolish the relation of mistress and slave between Arete
and herself. She had not undressed and washed her patient without
immediately perceiving that she was one of that aristocratic class who
had come into the world to enjoy all of its advantages, and to be waited
upon by slaves, as was demonstrated to old Thopt's satisfaction by the
fineness of her kilt, girdle, and gown, and by the delicate pink-color
of her flesh beneath it; and the old woman would as soon have thought of
organizing a rebellion against Anubis, the jackal-headed god himself, as
to have thought of withholding proper reverence and care from the
superior being who had been cast upon her guardianship. So that the
Christian charity of Arete and the inborn sense of duty and obligation
which generations of inherited servitude had made second nature in old
Thopt combined to secure faithful and untiring care in behalf of the
sick woman, and one or the other of them was in attendance upon her day
and night.
But as Ammonius had carried her from the raft to the land, and on the
way up to the house, he had heard her utter unconsciously, in the
Egyptian language, disjointed sentences which caused him much anxiety;
and, as soon as her immediate wants had been attended to, he charged the
family that they were not in any way to apprise the lady that she had
fallen into the hands of Christians until such time as he might deem it
proper to instruct them otherwise; but that they should be as diligent
in their care of her as if she had been the sister of them all. Before
the close of the first day's watching beside her patient, Arete found
ample reason, in the lady's feverish revelations, for the injunctions
which her husband had given concerning her. She talked almost
incessantly: now of her home in Alexandria; now of the rulers of Egypt;
now of her husband Amosis, and of her daughter; now of some special
mission which Amosis had undertaken at Rome; now of the fearful tempest;
now of a desperate struggle upon the raft between her husband and some
one else, in which both had fallen into the sea together. The substance
of this disjointed and feverish babbling left no doubt upon Arete's mind
that the lady's husband was in the service of the rulers of Egypt, and
high in the confidence of both the priests and of the government; nor
that he was a bitter adversary of the Christians; nor that, when
overtaken by the tempest, he was on his journey to Rome, to obtain from
the Emperor larger authority to persecute the Christians, even to
extermination, in Egypt and throughout Northern Libya. She gathered also
that when the officer and his wife and child had betaken themselves to
the raft as their last hope of safety, some one, seeing that all order
and discipline were lost, inflamed by a guilty passion for the beautiful
woman, had leaped upon the raft with them as it was leaving the vessel's
side, and that a desperate struggle had occurred between the husband and
the intruder, in which both had fallen into the sea; and that the lady
herself regarded the very name of Christians with detestation and
horror, and fully sympathized with her husband's purpose to persecute
them; and she had expected him to reap great and rapid advancement from
his zeal against the churches. And, although not unconscious of the
element of danger lurking in their intercourse with such a conscientious
hater of Christianity, Arete felt even larger compassion for her
beautiful patient's pagan darkness than for her physical illness; but
she fully realized the propriety of her husband's caution upon the
subject.
And so the weary days went by, and on the sixth morning the fever broke,
and left the poor lady with restored consciousness, but physically as
weak and helpless as an infant.
During these days, Arius and Theckla had become fast friends. She was a
beautiful child, but an Egyptian of the aristocratic class. Her hair,
which was as black as jet, curled profusely all around and over her
shapely head in luxuriant masses. Her forehead was low and broad, the
face a perfect oval from the full temples to the point of the plump,
delicate, projecting chin, while the small, full-lipped mouth was red as
a cherry, the upper lip notably short and voluptuous. The black,
arched, delicate eyebrows nearly met at the root of the high, straight,
delicately chiseled nose, and the large, dark eyes, soft, black, and
fathomless, free alike from fire and languishment, were of a kind found
nowhere on earth except along the Nile--full, wide-open eyes that seemed
calm and untroubled as the sightless orbs of any sphinx, yet full of
mystery as is the old, old land of Kem. Arius soon discovered that the
girl was remarkably bright and quick, but that she could neither read
nor write, all the instruction she had ever received (and she had been
very carefully taught) having been communicated by oral teaching. Her
native tongue was, of course, that of Egypt, but she spoke Greek with
fluency, and Latin also, but with difficulty and hesitation.
On the evening of the day on which she had been rescued from the waves,
the boy and girl were playing and chatting together in the shade before
the cottage. The sun was just sinking beyond the distant
mountain-range, when the girl said, "Do you go at sunrise or at sunset?"
"Go whither?" said Arius.
"Why, to worship Mentu, or Atmu, of course! Do you not worship?"
"Worship whom?" asked Arius.
"Oh," she answered, "old Ea, or Ptah, or Hesiri-Hes, or the other gods,
any of them you prefer?"
"I do not worship any of them," said Arius.
"Perhaps, then," said Theckla, "thou art an atheist, and hatest all of
the gods; and that is very wrong. For papa says that the atheists are
little better than the Christians themselves, and that it is owing to
their evil influence that so many young people in Alexandria are growing
up to believe in nothing. But, blessed be the gods, I have been brought
up in religion!"
"And which of the gods dost thou love and worship most?"
"I love none of them surely, but I fear and worship Ptah, Ra, and
Hesiri-Hes, the cross old things; because mamma says that they are the
most respectable; and I fear them much, especially the terrible,
implacable, pitiless Ma-t."
"But do you not think," said Arius, "that you would rather worship some
loving, compassionate, and holy deity, whom you could love, and obey
because you loved him?"
"Oh, that would be funny, would it not?--for a girl to fall in love with
a god! I never thought of such a thing before, but I believe," she
added, with an arch glance at Arius, "that I would like a really nice
handsome boy better than any of the plebeian gods!"
"What dost thou mean, Theckla, by saying 'the plebeian gods'?"
"Oh, I mean the new-fangled deities that have come into fashion during
the last two or three thousand years--the cheap, low-priced divinities
worshiped by the slaves and by the mechanics, like Sebek, the
crocodile-headed, and all that contemptible crowd. Mamma says that
we--that is, the nobility, you know--ought not to pay any attention to
any of them except the dreadful old gods, like Ra, Ptah, Hesiri-Hes, and
the other ancient divinities; because our own family is older and more
honorable than any of them except the high, dreadful old fellows that
have lived forever. Still, boy, thou hadst better worship even the
wretched Sebek than to be an atheist or a Christian; for papa says so."
Then the boy's heart yearned to tell the beautiful pagan of the God in
whom he believed, but, remembering his father's caution on that subject,
he chose rather to avoid further conversation of the kind, and started
off toward the bay to take his evening bath.
"Whither goest thou?" asked the little maiden.
"I am going to the bay to take a bath, as I do daily."
"That will be fine sport," she cried, "and I am going with you!"
And Theckla sprang to her feet, and ran along beside him. The boy
reached the water's edge, and, casting aside the loose gown habitually
worn about the farm, he plunged into the bay and struck out from the
shore, the play of his limbs being almost unimpeded by the close-fitting
under-garment reaching from the neck to midway of the thigh; and
instantly the young girl, whom old Thopt had arrayed in the short,
sleeveless kilt and long gown which the women usually wore, threw off
her outside gown and plunged in after him, exclaiming: "Oh, it is nicer
than Lake Mareotis! But I have swum with papa from the great Pharos to
the Kibotos in the little harbor of Eunostos!" and she swam after the
boy as gracefully as a mermaid. Soon she caught up with him, and,
having placed her little hands upon his head, she suddenly straightened
out her arms with all her strength, and raising herself up with a lithe
and joyous spring above him, with all her weight she plunged his head
down far beneath the surface, and swam laughingly away. The boy came up
instantly and pursued the fleeing maiden, and as soon as he could catch
up with her, which was no easy task, he said, "Thou shalt go under too,
Theckla!" but she was so excellent a swimmer, and so quick and active,
that for a long time she baffled all his efforts to get her head beneath
the waves. She laughed and struggled, and defied him, and exulted
greatly that he was not able to give her such a ducking as she had given
him, until, at last, he wound his long arms around her, pinioning both
of hers, and, clasping her to his bosom, stood straight up, and they
sank together until his feet touched the bottom, from which he sprang
upward to the surface. Then the lad kissed her and released her,
saying, "Wilt thou dip me again, Theckla, or hast thou had enough of
it?"
But the girl clasped her hands above her head, threw herself suddenly
downward, and for a moment her little feet flashed above the water as
she dived, and instantly afterward she clasped the boy's legs in her
arms and pulled him again beneath the surface, and rose above the waves
before he had recovered himself. And so they sported in the calm waters
of the bay until the twilight began to thicken over the valley, when
they started for the shore, and the girl swam beside him as lightly as a
gull, and, having thrown their long gowns around them, hand in hand they
walked back to the cottage.
Theckla's first inquiry was of her mother, and, finding that she
continued ill, she obstinately refused to leave her after it grew dark,
even for a moment, but stretched herself out upon the couch beside her
and slept until morning.
So it was every evening. During the day-time Arius was her favorite
companion, but she seemed to have an unconquerable aversion to darkness,
and would not leave her mother's side while it continued. Ammonius told
them to let her have her own way, as terror of the dark hours was part
of the old religion in which she had been raised.