direction certain uncouth names, saying:
“Genii, spirits elemental of air, of fire, of earth, and of water! By the
bond between us, by this wand which ye know, by the spells I have woven,
by this magic circle in which I stand, I summon you, _I summon you_!”
He then turned toward the other cardinal points, repeating to each the
same formula, though appealing to different personal names. At once
there fell on the ear the faint beat of distant wings. Shadows began to
flit through the air, and monstrous shapes vaguely showed themselves on
the walls and roofs of the khan. Then the lights on the stage burned
blue, grew feeble, flickered, went out. Everything was now in profound
darkness—save that on the stage the circumference of the circle with
its inlying border of mystic characters was become a glowing belt that
cast a wierd light on the magician and his cowering companions, but
seemed to have no power of illuminating beyond the stage. Now the beat
of wings was heard more distinctly. It grew apace. Soon it was like the
rush of winds—high in the air above the stage, and at various points in
the passage left behind the seats under the piazza. There it swept along
with terrific force—whistling and howling. Into these noises others
immediately insinuated themselves. Strange whisperings and mutterings
became audible. These gradually passed into raps, detonations, groans,
shrieks; and occasionally a yell so fierce and demoniacal as to be
appalling, rent the air and the ear.
But the chief place of commotion was the edge of the platform, just
outside of the fiery zone. Here, all the noises that were scattered
elsewhere were condensed and intensified into the roar of a tempest. To
fiendish laughs and screeches and yells that made the ear tingle were
added the bayings of many sorts of wild beasts when hot after their prey.
It seemed as if the spirits were crowding to get at the magician, and
tear him limb from limb, and were chafed to madness on being prevented by
the magic circle. It was the many-voiced sea, lashed into fury, leaping
in spray and thunder on a rock-bound coast. What a carnival! Was hell
emptied? And through the blackness and the uproar and the fury, pierced
voices like swords—voices that cried:
“We are here, great Master, to do thy bidding. Lo, we are here!”
At no time during the evening had Cimon, or even Aleph with his younger
eyes, been able to see who occupied the adjoining seats on their right
and left. These seats had not been taken till it had become too dark to
distinguish faces or even figures: and the single lamp before themselves
was so ensconced among the ornaments of the eaves of the piazza that it
threw no light to either side. But from both sides they occasionally
caught low sounds of movements and voices; and knew very well that they
had neighbors. And they felt quite sure that if an attack should be made
upon them it would come from those nearest to them. So, as soon as the
lights had all gone out, after a moment’s whispered conference together,
they noiselessly set their seat back against the door of their room, and
as noiselessly took stand in front of it and facing it, but at a distance
from it of several feet—and waited for what might happen.
At the height of the uproar and darkness, their ears caught a stealthy
movement at both right and left; and then the careful footfall of
unsandalled feet. A moment more, and there was a stumbling against the
seat they had left, as of men who had been expecting a clear passage;
while they felt the presence of others just before them. At once came
a hasty succession of heavy blows, as of bludgeons, on the seat and
door behind it. Two heavy thuds promptly followed, and as many groans
and falls: for both Cimon and Aleph had struck with clenched hands into
the dark, and had encountered something more substantial than spirits.
This done, they stepped back to their former places and waited for what
might yet follow. Nothing followed—save the sound of footsteps hastily
retreating to the right and left. And, all at once, the hubbub of wierd
noises began to lull; the whispers and howls and other diabolic sounds
dwindled rapidly; in a few moments the rush of departing wings had died
away in the distance.
“Now go in peace,” cried the magician. “If any have been injured by the
Powers I have summoned, it is because they did not obey my directions.
Their blood be on their own heads. I take you to witness that I am not
responsible.”
The court and piazza were soon emptied. The people had been too soundly
frightened to stand on the order of their going; and rushed out pell-mell
through the darkness—overturning benches and hurdles and one another.
During this final uproar, which was almost as great as the spirits
had made, Aleph felt a hand on his shoulder, heard a whisper at his
ear—“Shaphan and Nathan.”
“Welcome,” he whispered back. “Come into our room.”
They removed the seat, unlocked the door, and with the aid of the
two Jews dragged inside the bodies which their feet had encountered
on the floor. Closing the door, they struck a light and proceeded to
examine their still insensible assailants. In one of them Aleph had no
difficulty in recognizing Antis: in the other Shaphan and his brother
knew Draco, a noted bully of the city, at present teacher of fence at
the Museum, formerly a trainer of gladiators at Rome, and well known
as a dissipated companion of the son of the Governor. Having satisfied
themselves that the men were not seriously injured, and needed only the
open air to fully recover, they drew them out again on the piazza and
there left them to themselves—or their friends.
The brothers then explained that the lady Rachel had sent a servant to
them after their return home to recall them; and had begged that they
would be present at the khan in the evening with some of the family
servants and give aid to her friends if they should have need. But
various circumstances had delayed them so that they did not arrive till
after the performance had begun; when they found no admission to the
piazza, and the court so densely packed that it was almost impossible to
wedge their way to the neighborhood of Aleph and Cimon. This, however, in
the course of the evening they had, by dint of constant effort, succeeded
in doing, and were quite near when the assault was made and the assembly
broke up. They then dashed violently through the crowd, and over the
hurdles—fearing the worst, for they had heard the blows, the groans, and
the heavy falls. Thank Heaven, it was the enemy that fell!
Very cordial acknowledgments were made to the friendly Jews. In addition,
Aleph sat down and wrote on a piece of papyrus the following:
“Aleph the Chaldean, to the daughter of Alexander, sends greeting:
“This is to express my sense of the kindness you have shown to the
eastern strangers in sending help to them this night in their supposed
danger. And truly the danger was considerable; but through the favor of
the Most High we have escaped the assault made upon us, and have come to
understand better than before the difference between the marvels of Jesus
and the marvels of the magician. The latter are due partly to illusion
and ventriloquism, partly to occult natural law, and partly to diabolism.
They are favored by darkness and distance, depend on preparations and
compacts and machinery, proceed from an unworthy person, seek unworthy
objects, are aided by unworthy Powers, are connected with phenomena that
betray a diabolic origin, and are wholly depraving and mischievous in
their tendency.
“When the bearers of this give you an account of what they have seen and
heard, you will, I doubt not, see new reason to believe in Him who casts
out devils instead of invoking them.
“May the God of Abraham and Daniel, the Chaldeans, keep you!
“Farewell!”
When the Jews stepped out on the piazza they found that the bodies were
no longer there. Doubtless they had recovered consciousness and taken
themselves off.
Magic and miracle! Two very different things, thought Aleph again, as he
recalled, in the solitude to which he was now left, the account which
Nathan had given of the storm on the Sea of Galilee.
Did ever night with blacker wing
Swoop down upon the sea?
Did ever storm with fiercer flail
Smite Sea of Galilee?
God help yon bubble bark that leaps
Against a rayless sky—
God help yon bubble bark flung back
In rayless gulfs to die!
The gates of hell are open wide,
Its fiends outscream the blast;
“Up with the bubble boat on high!
This plunge shall be the last.”
Alas, alas! ye helpless men
Who to the skies are tost—
Just hanging to the lion’s mane,
What can ye be but lost?
Yet cry for help—_Where is the KING?_—
Ye have not far to seek;
Within your very bark is One
Who storms to calms can speak.
He speaks—at once the stars look down
Upon a waveless sea;
The peace of God is in thy winds,
O breathless Galilee!
And ever when we cry through storms,
To Christ our cry should be;
Low bow all waves and winds and fiends
To Him of Galilee.
X.
THE ARENA.
Μεγάλα πρήγματα μεγάλοσι κινδύνοιισι.
—HERODOTUS, vii. 50.
_Great results from great dangers._
1. An anxious friend.
2. Seti defends himself.
3. So does Aleph.
4. Who is to blame?
X.
THE ARENA.
An evening of such experiences as we have just described would be
followed by a sleepless night in the case of most persons at the present
day. But those were adventurous times; the element of uncertainty and
peril entered into them far more largely than it does into our daily
life; and the habit of coolly accepting the situation and accommodating
themselves to it was common among men of standing and courage. So the
reader must not be surprised to learn that our friends, after thanking
Heaven for their preservation, slept about as soundly through the night
as if they had suffered no narrow escape and were anticipating nothing
but safety on the morrow.
Their morning devotions and meal had been finished, and they were
conferring as to Seti’s proposal that they should remove to the Serapeum,
when a knock was heard on their door, and the high priest himself made
his appearance.
“What means all this?” he exclaimed, as he closed the door behind him and
took the rude stool which was all that Aleph had to offer him; “the whole
khan behind time, everything in a litter, the staging in the court in
the last stages of a debauch; above all the clubs before your door and
the battered state of the door itself, to say nothing of the broken seat
before it!”
Cimon explained.
“Now you see why I am here so early this morning,” resumed the priest.
“My thoughts were so full of apprehension on your account during the
night that I could not sleep; and I determined that as soon as possible
in the morning I would seek you out and again urge you to remove at once
to the Serapeum. This evidently is no place for you. It is plain that
Malus and the son of the governor have gotten into communication with
each other and have joined their forces—plain that the chief object of
the doings here last night was a three-fold assault on you through your
fears, through magical powers, and through human assassins. These were
the three strings to their bow. They hoped that if the others failed the
clubs of Draco and his helpers would do the work and the magical powers
which you defied take all the blame of it. You see with what characters
you have to deal. Behold a fair sample of what these men are capable of
doing. So come to the Serapeum without delay.”
“We were speaking of your kind offer just as you came in,” said Cimon,
“and were debating whether we could properly accept it; and had about
come to the conclusion that we could not do so without dragging the only
friends we have in Alexandria into trouble with powerful people—which
would be a poor return for the kindness we have received.”
“Leave me to judge,” returned Seti coolly, “as to the amount of trouble
I can afford to be at for your sake. The offer I make is made freely in
view of the circumstances.”
“We have been afraid,” said Aleph, “that your view of the circumstances
is not as complete as it should be before we allow your generous kindness
to embroil you with perhaps the government itself. You already know that
Malus supposes himself seriously in danger from us, and that so we are
seriously in danger from him. But you have not known distinctly who we
are, and what we propose to do. As to who we are, we are still compelled
to be silent; but it is fitting that you learn now the nature of Cimon’s
relations to Malus. Cimon is the dear friend and business manager
of an eastern trader who for many years has had large dealings with
Malus—consigning to him a large amount of costly eastern goods yearly.
We now find, what has long been suspected, that the consignee has made
false returns as to the amount of goods received, and prices obtained
for them, and the duties levied on them at this port. Complete proof of
this, as we suppose, is contained in the parcel of papers put into your
hands yesterday. We also cannot doubt that a comparison of these papers
with the custom house registers (which comparison we have not been able
to make) would show that Malus has defrauded the government as well as
ourselves, and perhaps that officials are in collusion with him. The
interests he has at stake, therefore, are so large that he is sure to be
as bitterly hostile to our friends as to us. And besides, as you see,
he seems to have secured a hold of some sort on the Roman authorities
themselves. So the man who undertakes to befriend us undertakes a great
deal. We are very reluctant to embroil you, and perhaps the family of the
Alabarch in so serious a trouble. On this account we have refrained from
asking advice from you in regard to our preliminary movements.”
“The case as stated by you,” replied Seti, still with the utmost
coolness, “is not worse than I supposed; and I still press my invitation.
Trouble there will be, no doubt; but, then, if I do not accept this
trouble I shall have a greater from another quarter; for my granddaughter
sent a messenger to me this morning as soon as it was light to stir me up
to do what I am now doing. If I were to be backward in this matter,” he
added with a smile, “I am afraid she would rouse all my students against
me; which she could easily do, for she is a queen to P. Cornelius.
Moreover, it is barely possible that both Alexander and myself have just
a little of that generous indignation at wickedness that led certain
persons of our acquaintance to stand up for us without counting the cost.
Who gave Greeks and Chaldeans a monopoly of that sort of thing? No,
friends, you must not ask me to do what you would not, I am confident, be
willing to do yourselves.”
Of course nothing more was to be said. And our friends said nothing
more—save thanks. It was agreed that they should send their effects at
once to the Serapeum by certain servants whom Seti had left without, and
follow them in person in the course of the day.
This matter being disposed of, Seti continued, “Now tell me what steps
you have taken to bring that arch-rogue to justice.”
“I have done nothing,” said Cimon, “save to collect evidence; and have
been uncertain what further steps to take.”
“You should put your proofs at once in the hands of Alexander’s lawyer.
If he judges them sufficient for this latitude and for a Roman Court
(for a Roman Court it must be, since the case is between a Greek and a
Jew), let him put things in train without delay. You could find no more
skillful advocate; and he has the further advantage, somewhat rare in his
profession, of being an honest man. This in itself will instinctively
enlist him against such a rogue as Malus. He will do all he can to bring
the fellow to justice.”
“Can you tell me what the prospects for justice in a Roman Court are?”
“The Roman law, in general, is just; but a case has to be very clear or
the strong rogues, in Alexandria as elsewhere, will manage to escape
by means of the evasions, delays, appeals, and various tricks that
are purchasable by the free use of money. It is said that all things
are venal at Rome. I am afraid the state of things is no better in
Alexandria. Malus will use money freely—can you do the same?”
“That depends,” said Cimon. “For such purposes as the collecting of
evidence and the securing of the ablest advocate that can be had, I say
_Yes_ to your question. For the purpose of bribing the judges, I say
_No_.”
“This is the answer I expected from you. But your enemy has no scruples.
He will have the freedom of all means—righteous and unrighteous. In this
respect he has much the advantage over you—always provided that there
is no God, and that there is a devil. But in certain other important
respects you have an advantage over him.”
“Will you tell us in what?” suggested Aleph.
“First, in the intrinsic justice of your cause; for I have no doubt that
the case is as you have stated it. Next, the evil repute of Malus among
the better class of people is against him. They all know that he is
capable of doing just the sort of thing you charge against him—that, in
fact, he has done it in multitudes of cases and has only escaped by the
terror which he inspires in people too weak financially and otherwise to
contend with him. It is worth while for even Roman judges to make some
account of the higher grades of public opinion. Further, it would not be
strange if many of the small victims of Malus should summon courage in
the presence of so large a suit as yours to appear against him with an
amount of testimony that would be overwhelming.”
“I understand then,” said Cimon, “that even if our proofs are legally
complete, we still have reason to fear that venality on the part of the
judges and hostility on the part of the Governor and other officials will
find means to set them aside.”
“Yes—it certainly is to be feared. Malus has undoubtedly patched up an
alliance, if not with the Governor himself, at least with Romans who can
bring heavy influence to bear upon him and so on the courts. We must not
shut our eyes on this fact. It is our main disadvantage. But to offset
this the Alabarch and myself can also bring heavy influences—and they
shall not be wanting.”
“We are fortunate and thankful to find such friends—especially as we
have no choice but to proceed. We will proceed and trust Heaven for the
result. I think this is the conclusion to which we have come, and that
we are ready to authorize our friend to place our papers in the hands of
the advocate he proposes,” and he looked inquiringly at Aleph.
Aleph slightly bowed. After a moment, however, he added:
“Still I would be glad if, before legal proceedings are begun, we could
give Malus an opportunity to retrace his steps. I would like to try what
effect expostulation under the perils of his situation would have. The
Most High practices forbearance to sinners; and such I understand is the
practice of the Messiah toward his enemies. His miracles show that he
has power enough to overwhelm them all with the greatest ease, but he
forbears and tries on them the effect of more light and expostulation. I
would be glad to imitate God and His Christ.”
Seti started to his feet in amazement.
“And this after your very lives have been so foully assailed! This way
of doing things is neither Egyptian, nor Greek, nor Roman, nor even
Jewish—however God-like and Christ like it may be.”
“I confess,” said Cimon, “that I have something of the feeling that my
young friend has expressed. I am reluctant to drive a man to what may
prove his ruin without giving him a chance for his life. To be sure, I
have small hope of a favorable result from any appeal we can make to the
conscience and fears of Malus. But I should feel easier if it were made.”
“Well, be it so!” said Seti after a short silence. “Make the experiment.
See what merciful dealings can do. At the most, it only means the
delay of a day or so.... Now let us see what you will _write_ to this
promising candidate for repentance and reformation: for I will never
give my consent that you go in person into the den of such a serpent.”
Aleph looked at Cimon. The Greek nodded. The young man seated himself at
a table and slowly wrote as follows:
“Cimon, manager and representative, to Malus, consignee and
merchant.
“It has been discovered that the returns which you have made
for many years to the business which I represent are not in
accordance with the facts, and that now a very large sum of
money is due us. I am reluctant to appeal to the courts to
enforce our claims; and hope that your sense of justice and
of responsibility to a Higher Power will make such an appeal
unnecessary. A satisfactory assurance from you of regret for
the past and an upright purpose for the future will dispose me
to abate much from my just claim upon you.
“Let me hear from you to-day at the
_Khan Rachotis_.”
“I have great misgivings as to this merciful plan of yours,” said Seti,
“and only give my consent to it on condition that you authorize me to
place your papers in the hands of our advocate at once, without waiting
to see the result of your appeal. If it is successful you can recall the
parcel unbroken. Otherwise it is to be used without delay. You agree?”
“So be it,” said Cimon.
“Does the parcel contain as full an explanation of the case as the
advocate will need?”
“So it seems to me.”
This ended the conversation. A servant of the khan was immediately
called and dispatched with the letter to Malus. Seti himself remained
till he had seen the main effects of his friends put into the hands of
two servants of his own for transference to the Serapeum. It was agreed
that the owners should follow as soon as possible.
As chance would have it (I confess that I dislike such language on both
scientific and religious grounds), they were not detained long. Their
messenger met Malus at no great distance from the khan; and soon returned
with a spoken message that they should either see or hear from him at the
khan early the coming evening.
What should they do in the meantime? Aleph consulted his programme of
lectures, and found that Seti was to speak at the third hour in his
course on Comparative Religions—special topic, _The Religion of Egypt_.
They would settle with their landlord and then leisurely find their way
to the lecture. They were curious to hear what the high-priest of Egypt
would say about its religion. Perhaps they would get some light on the
mystery of his position.
Accordingly, in due time they found themselves in the lecture-room of
the Serapeum. They noticed that the room was fuller than before, and
conjectured that this was owing to the special interest felt in the topic
to be discussed. Seti evidently noticed their presence as he came in and
passed near them to his seat on the dais.
What follows is a condensed statement of the main points of the
lecture—without the vigorous argument and abundant illustrations by which
these points were supported.
Seti began with reminding the students that he had in previous lectures
on the origin and history of religion expressed the conviction that its
earliest stage in all countries was monotheism. The evidence of this, he
thought to be especially clear in the case of Egypt. All his researches
had converged on a remote time when the Egyptian temples contained no
visible object of worship; but were dedicated to a single spiritual Being
who was supposed to be the eternal, almighty, and all wise creator of all
things else, and who was to be worshipped by prayer and praise and gifts
and sacrifice. They called Him _Amun Re_.
How long the popular religion remained at this point is not known. Nor
is it known by any record how a change came to take place. But probably
it was after this manner. Some of the ruder people began to use visible
symbols of the Great Spirit to assist their conception and devotion; and
by degrees their example was copied extensively by the people at large.
The next step was to pass from the worship of the Being symbolized to
the worship of the symbol itself—a thing about as easy as the descent of
rivers to the sea.