[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of thefile for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making anentire meal of them. D. W. ]

ARACHNE

By Georg Ebers

Volume 7. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Without a word of explanation, Hermon dragged his guide along inbreathless haste. No one stopped them. 

The atrium, usually swarming with guards, servants, and officials until afar later hour, was completely deserted when the blind man hurriedthrough it with his friend. 

The door leading into the outer air stood open, but Hermon, leaning onthe scholar's arm, had scarcely crossed the threshold and entered thelittle courtyard encircled with ornamental plants, which separated thisportion of the palace from the street, when both were surrounded by aband of armed Macedonian soldiers, whose commander exclaimed: "In thename of the King! Not a sound, if you value your lives!"

Incensed, and believing that there was some mistake, Hermon announcedhimself as a sculptor and Crates as a member of the Museum, but thisstatement did not produce the slightest effect upon the warrior; nay, when the friends answered the officer's inquiry whether they were comingfrom Proclus's banquet in the affirmative; he curtly commanded them to beput in chains. 

To offer resistance would have been madness, for even Hermon perceived, by the loud clanking of weapons around them, the greatly superior powerof the enemy, and they were acting by the orders of the King. "To theprison near the place of execution!" cried the officer; and now not onlythe mythograph, but Hermon also was startled--this dungeon opened only tothose sentenced to death. 

Was he to be led to the executioner's block? A cold shudder ran throughhis frame; but the next moment he threw back his waving locks, and hischest heaved with a long breath. 

What pleasure had life to offer him, the blind man, who was already deadto his art? Ought he not to greet this sudden end as a boon from theimmortals?

Did it not spare him a humiliation as great and painful as could beimagined?

He had already taken care that the false renown should not follow himto the grave, and Myrtilus should have his just due, and he would dowhatever else lay in his power to further this object. Wherever thebeloved dead might be, he desired to go there also. Whatever might awaithim, he desired no better fate. If he had passed into annihilation, he, Hermon, wished to follow him thither, and annihilation certainly meantredemption from pain and misery. But if he were destined to meet hisMyrtilus and his mother in the world beyond the grave, what had he not totell them, how sure he was of finding a joyful reception there from both!The power which delivered him over to death just at that moment was notNemesis--no, it was a kindly deity. 

Only his heart grew heavy at the thought of leaving Daphne to thetireless wooer Philotas or some other--everything else from which it isusually hard to part seemed like a burden that we gladly cast aside. 

"Forward!" he called blithely and boldly to the officer; while Crates, with loud lamentations, was protesting his innocence to the warrior whowas putting fetters upon him. 

A chain was just being clasped around Hermon's wrists also when hesuddenly started. His keen ear could not deceive him, and yet a demonmust be mocking him, for the voice that had called his name was thegirl's of whom, in the presence of welcome death, he had thought withlonging regret. 

Yet it was no illusion that deceived him. Again he heard the belovedvoice, and this time it addressed not only him, but with the utmost hastethe commander of the soldiers. 

Sometimes with touching entreaty, sometimes with imperious command, sheprotested, after giving him her name, that this matter could be nothingbut an unfortunate mistake. Lastly, with earnest warmth, she besoughthim, before taking the prisoners away, to permit her to speak to thecommanding general, Philippus, her father's guest, who, she was certain, was in the palace. The blood of these innocent men would be on his headif he did not listen to her representations. 

"Daphne!" cried Hermon in grateful agitation; but she would not listen tohim, and followed the soldier whom the captain detailed to guide her intothe palace. 

After a few moments, which the blind artist used to inspire thedespairing scholar with courage, the girl returned, and she did not comealone. The gray-haired comrade of Alexander accompanied her, and after afew minutes both prisoners were released from their fetters. Philippushastily refused their thanks and, after addressing a few words to theofficer, he changed his tone, and his deep voice sounded paternallycordial as he exclaimed to Daphne: "Fifteen minutes more, you dear, foolhardy girl, and it would have been too late. To-morrow you shallconfess to me who treacherously directed you to this dangerous path. "

Lastly, he turned to the prisoners to explain that they would beconducted to the adjacent barracks of the Diadochi, and spend the nightthere. 

Early the next morning they should be examined, and, if they could clearthemselves from the suspicion of belonging to the ranks of theconspirators, released. 

Daphne again pleaded for the liberation of the prisoners, but Philippussilenced her with the grave exclamation, "The order of the King!"

The old commander offered no objection to her wish to accompany Hermon toprison. Daphne now slipped her arm through her cousin's, and commandedthe steward Gras, who had brought her here, to follow them. 

The goal of the nocturnal walk, which was close at hand, was reached atthe end of a few minutes, and the prisoners were delivered to thecommander of the Diadochi. This kindly disposed officer had served underHermon's father, and when the names of the prisoners were given, and theofficer reported to him that General Philippus recommended them to hiscare as innocent men, he had a special room opened for the sculptor andhis fair guide, and ordered Crates to enter another. 

He could permit the beautiful daughter of the honoured Archias to remainwith Hermon for half an hour, then he must beg her to allow herself to beescorted to her home, as the barracks were closed at that time. 

As soon as the captive artist was alone with the woman he loved, heclasped her hand, pouring forth incoherent words of the most ardentgratitude, and when he felt her warmly return the pressure, he could notrestrain the desire to clasp her to his heart. For the first time hislips met hers, he confessed his love, and that he had just regarded deathas a deliverer; but his life was now gaining new charm through heraffection. 

Then Daphne herself threw her arms around his neck with fervent devotion. 

The love that resistlessly drew his heart to her was returned with equalstrength and ardour. In spite of his deep mental distress, he could haveshouted aloud in his delight and gratitude. He might now have beenpermitted to bind forever to his life the woman who had just rescued himfrom the greatest danger, but the confession he must make to his fellow-artists in the palaestra the following morning still sealed his lips. Yet in this hour he felt that he was united to her, and ought not toconceal what awaited him; so, obeying a strong impulse, he exclaimed:"You know that I love you! Words can not express the strength of mydevotion, but for that very reason I must do what duty commands before Iask the question, 'Will you join your fate to mine?'"

"I love you and have loved you always!" Daphne exclaimed tenderly. "Whatmore is needed?"

But Hermon, with drooping head, murmured: "To-morrow I shall no longerbe what I am now. Wait until I have done what duty enjoins; when thatis accomplished, you shall ask yourself what worth the blind artist stillpossesses who bartered spurious fame for mockery and disgrace in ordernot to become a hypocrite. "

Then Daphne raised her face to his, asking, "So the Demeter is the workof Myrtilus?"

"Certainly, " he answered firmly. "It is the work of Myrtilus. "

"Oh, my poor, deceived love!" cried Daphne, strongly agitated, in a toneof the deepest sorrow. "What a terrible ordeal again awaits you! Itmust indeed distress me--and yet Do not misunderstand me! It seemsnevertheless as if I ought to rejoice, for you and your art have notspoken to me even a single moment from this much-lauded work. "

"And therefore, " he interrupted with passionate delight, "therefore aloneyou withheld the enthusiastic praise with which the others intoxicatedme? And I, fool, blinded also in mind, could be vexed with you for it!But only wait, wait! Soon-to-morrow even--there will be no one inAlexandria who can accuse me of deserting my own honest aspiration, and, if the gods will only restore my sight and the ability to use my hands asa sculptor, then, girl, then--"

Here he was interrupted by a loud knocking at the door. 

The time allowed had expired. 

Hermon again warmly embraced Daphne, saying: "Then go! Nothing can cloudwhat these brief moments have bestowed. I must remain blind; but youhave restored the lost sight to my poor darkened soul. To-morrow I shallstand in the palaestra before my comrades, and explain to them what amalicious accident deceived me, and with me this whole great city. Manywill not believe me, and even your father will perhaps consider it adisgrace to give his arm to his scorned, calumniated nephew to guide himhome. Bring this before your mind, and everything else that you mustaccept with it, if you consent, when the time arrives, to become mine. Conceal and palliate nothing! But should the Lady Thyone speak of theEumenides who pursued me, tell her that they had probably again extendedtheir arms toward me, but when I return to-morrow from the palaestra Ishall be freed from the terrible beings. "

Lastly, he asked to be told quickly how she had happened to come to thepalace at the right time at so late an hour, and Daphne informed him asbriefly and modestly as if the hazardous venture which, in strongopposition to her retiring, womanly nature, she had undertaken, was amere matter of course. 

When Thyone in her presence heard from Gras that Hermon intended to goto Proclus's banquet, she started up in horror, exclaiming, "Then theunfortunate man is lost!"

Her husband, who had long trusted even the gravest secrets to hisdiscreet old wife, had informed her of the terrible office the King hadconfided to him. All the male guests of Proclus were to be executed; thewomen--the Queen at their head--would be sent into exile. 

Then Daphne, on her knees, besought the matron to tell her whatthreatened Hermon, and succeeded in persuading her to speak. 

The terrified girl, accompanied by Gras, went first to her lover's houseand, when she did not find him there, hastened to the King's palace. 

If Hermon could have seen her with her fluttering hair, dishevelled bythe night breeze, and checks blanched by excitement and terror, if hehad been told how she struggled with Thyone, who tried to detain her andlock her up before she left her father's house, he would have perceivedwith still prouder joy, had that been possible, what he possessed in thedevoted love of this true woman. 

Grateful and moved by joyous hopes, he informed Daphne of the words ofthe oracle, which had imprinted themselves upon his memory. 

She, too, quickly retained them, and murmured softly:

"Noise and dazzling radiance are hostile to the purer light, Morning andday will rise quietly from the starving sand. "

What could the verse mean except that the blind man would regain thepower to behold the light of clay amid the sands of the silent desert?

Perhaps it would be well for him to leave Alexandria now, and shedescribed how much benefit she had received while hunting from thesilence of the wilderness, when she had left the noise of the city behindher. But before she had quite finished, the knocking at the door wasrepeated. 

The lovers took leave of each other with one last kiss, and the finalwords of the departing girl echoed consolingly in the blind man's heart, "The more they take from you, the more closely I will cling to you. "

Hermon spent the latter portion of the night rejoicing in theconsciousness of a great happiness, yet also troubled by the difficulttask which he could not escape. 

When the market place was filling, gray-haired Philippus visited him. 

He desired before the examination, for which every preparation had beenmade, to understand personally the relation of his dead comrade's son tothe defeated conspiracy, and he soon perceived that Hermon's presence atthe banquet was due solely to an unlucky accident or in consequence ofthe Queen's desire to win him over to her plot. 

Yet he was forced to advise the blind sculptor to leave Alexandria. Thesuspicion that he had been associated with the conspirators was the moredifficult to refute, because his Uncle Archias had imprudently allowedhimself to be persuaded by Proclus and Arsinoe to lend the Queen largesums, which had undoubtedly been used to promote her abominable plans. 

Philippus also informed him that he had just come from Archias, whom hehad earnestly urged to fly as quickly as possible from the persecutionwhich was inevitable; for, secure as Hermon's uncle felt in hisinnocence, the receipts for the large sums loaned by him, which had justbeen found in Proclus's possession, would bear witness against him. Envyand ill will would also have a share in this affair, and the usuallybenevolent King knew no mercy where crime against his own person wasconcerned. So Archias intended to leave the city on one of his own shipsthat very day. Daphne, of course, would accompany him. 

The prisoner listened in surprise and anxiety. 

His uncle driven from his secure possessions to distant lands! Daphnetaken from him, he knew not whither nor for how long a time, after he hadjust been assured of her great love! He himself on the way to exposehimself to the malice and mockery of the whole city!

His heart contracted painfully, and his solicitude about his uncle's fateincreased when Philippus informed him that the conspirators had beenarrested at the banquet and, headed by Amyntas, the Rhodian, Chrysippus, and Proclus, had perished by the executioner's sword at sunrise. 

The Queen, Althea, and the other ladies were already on the way toCoptos, in Upper Egypt, whither the King had exiled them. 

Ptolemy had intrusted the execution of this severe punishment toAlexander's former comrade as the most trustworthy and discreet of hissubjects, but rejected, with angry curtness, Philippus's attempt touphold the innocence of his friend Archias. 

The old man's conversation with Hermon was interrupted by thefunctionaries who subjected him and Crates to the examination. It lasted a long time, and referred to every incident in the artist'slife since his return to Alexandria. The result was favourable, andthe prisoner was dismissed from confinement with the learned companionof his fate. 

When, accompanied by Philippus, Hermon reached his house, it was so latethat the artists' festival in honour of the sculptor Euphranor, whoentered his seventieth year of life that day, must have alreadycommenced. 

On the way the blind man told the general what a severe trial awaitedhim, and the latter approved his course and, on bidding him farewell, with sincere emotion urged Hermon to take courage. 

After hastily strengthening himself with a few mouthfuls of food and adraught of wine, his slave Patran, who understood writing, wished to puton the full laurel wreath; but Hermon was seized with a painful sense ofdissatisfaction, and angrily waved it back. 

Without a single green leaf on his head, he walked, leaning on theEgyptian's arm, into the palaestra, which was diagonally opposite tohis house. 

Doubtless he longed to hasten at once to Daphne, but he felt that hecould not take leave of her until he had first cast off, as his heart andmind dictated, the terrible burden which oppressed his soul. Besides, heknew that the object of his love would not part from him without grantinghim one last word. 

On the way his heart throbbed almost to bursting. 

Even Daphne's image, and what threatened her father, and her with him, receded far into the background. He could think only of his design, andhow he was to execute it. 

Yet ought he not to have the laurel wreath put on, in order, afterremoving it, to bestow it on the genius of Myrtilus?

Yet no!

Did he still possess the right to award this noble branch to any one?He was appearing before his companions only to give truth its just due. It was repulsive to endow this explanation of an unfortunate error with acaptivating aspect by any theatrical adornment. To be honest, even forthe porter, was a simple requirement of duty, and no praiseworthy merit. 

The guide forced a path for him through carriages, litters, and wholethrongs of slaves and common people, who had assembled before theneighbouring palaestra. 

The doorkeepers admitted the blind man, who was well known here, withoutdelay; but he called to the slave: "Quick, Patran, and not among thespectators--in the centre of the arena!"

The Egyptian obeyed, and his master crossed the wide space, strewn withsand, and approached the stage which had been erected for the festalperformances. 

Even had his eyes retained the power of sight, his blood was coursingso wildly through his veins that he might perhaps have been unable todistinguish the statues around him and the thousands of spectators, who, crowded closely together, richly garlanded, their cheeks glowing withenthusiasm, surrounded the arena. 

"Hermon!" shouted his friend Soteles in joyful surprise in the midstof this painful walk. "Hermon!" resounded here, there, andeverywhere as, leaning on his friend's arm, he stepped upon the stage, and the acclamations grew louder and louder as Soteles fulfilled thesculptor's request and led him to the front of the platform. 

Obeying a sign from the director of the festival, the chorus, which hadjust sung a hymn to the Muses, was silent. 

Now the sculptor began to speak, and noisy applause thundered around himas he concluded the well-chosen words of homage with which he offeredcordial congratulations to the estimable Euphranor, to whom the festivalwas given; but the shouts soon ceased, for the audience had heard hismodest entreaty to be permitted to say a few words, concerning a personalmatter, to those who were his professional colleagues, as well as to theothers who had honoured him with their interest and, only too loudly, with undeserved applause. The more closely what he had to say concernedhimself, the briefer he would make his story. 

And, in fact, he did not long claim the attention of his hearers. Clearly and curtly he stated how it had been possible to mistakeMrytilus's work for his, how the Tennis goldsmith had dispelled his firstsuspicion, and how vainly he had besought the priests of Demeter to bepermitted to feel his statue. Then, without entering into details, heinformed them that, through an accident, he had now reached the firmconviction that he had long worn wreaths which belonged to another. But, though the latter could not rise from the grave, he still owed itto truth, to whose service he had dedicated his art from the beginning, and to the simple honesty, dear alike to the peasant and the artist, todivest himself of the fame to which he was not entitled. Even while hebelieved himself to be the creator of the Demeter, he had been seriouslytroubled by the praise of so many critics, because it had exposed him tothe suspicion of having become faithless to his art and his nature. Inthe name of the dead, he thanked his dear comrades for the enthusiasticappreciation his masterpiece had found. Honour to Myrtilus and his art, but he trusted this noble festal assemblage would pardon theunintentional deception, and aid his prayer for recovery. If it shouldbe granted he hoped to show that Hermon had not been wholly unworthy toadorn himself for a short time with the wreaths of Myrtilus. 

When he closed, deep silence reigned for a brief interval, and one manlooked at another irresolutely until the hero of the day, gray-hairedEuphranor, rose and, leaning on the arm of his favourite pupil, walkedthrough the centre of the arena to the stage, mounted it, embraced Hermonwith paternal warmth, and made him happy by the words: "The deceptionthat has fallen to your lot, my poor young friend, is a lamentable one;but honour to every one who honestly means to uphold the truth. We willbeseech the immortals with prayers and sacrifices to restore sight toyour artist eyes. If I am permitted, my dear young comrade, to see youcontinue to create, it will be a source of joy to me and all of us; yetthe Muses, even though unasked, lead into the eternal realm of beauty theelect who consecrates his art to truth with the right earnestness. "

The embrace with which the venerable hero of the festival seemed toabsolve Hermon was greeted with loud applause; but the kind words whichEuphranor, in the weak voice of age, had addressed to the blind man hadbeen unintelligible to the large circle of guests. 

When he again descended to the arena new plaudits rose; but soon hissesand other signs of disapproval blended with them, which increased instrength and number when a well known critic, who had written a learnedtreatise concerning the relation of the Demeter to Hermon's earlierworks, expressed his annoyance in a loud whistle. The dissatisfied anddisappointed spectators now vied with one another to silence those whowere cheering by a hideous uproar while the latter expressed more andmore loud the sincere esteem with which they were inspired by theconfession of the artist who, though cruelly prevented from winning freshfame, cast aside the wreath which a dead man had, as were, proffered fromhis tomb. 

Probably every man thought that, in the same situation, he would havedone the same yet not only justice--nay, compassion--dictated showing theblind artist that they believed in and would sustain him. The ill-disposed insisted that Hermon had only done what duty commanded themeanest man, and the fact that he had deceived all Alexandria stillremained. Not a few joined this party, for larger possession exciteenvy perhaps even more frequently than greater fame. 

Soon the approving and opposing voices mingled in an actual conflict. But before the famous sculptor Chares, the great and venerable artistNicias, and several younger friends of Hermon quelled this unpleasantdisturbance of the beautiful festival, the blind man, leaning on the armof his fellow-artist Soteles, had left the palaestra. 

At the exit he, parted from his friend, who had been made happy by theability to absolve his more distinguished leader from the reproach ofhaving become faithless to their common purpose, and who intended tointercede further in his behalf in the palaestra. 

Hermon no longer needed him; for, besides his slave Patran, he found thesteward Gras, who, by his master's order, guided the blind man toArchias's closed harmamaxa, which was waiting outside the building. 

CHAPTER IX. 

The sculptor's head was burning feverishly when he entered the vehicle. He had never imagined that the consequences of his explanation would beso terrible. During the drive--by no means a long one--to the greatharbour, he strove to collect his thoughts. Groaning aloud, he coveredhis ears with his hands to shut out the shouts and hisses from thepalaestra, which in reality were no longer audible. 

True, he would not need to expose himself to this uproar a second time, yet if he remained in Alexandria the witticisms, mockery, and jibes ofthe whole city, though in a gentler form, would echo hundreds of timesaround him. 

He must leave the city. He would have preferred to go on board thestaunch Tacheia and be borne far away with his uncle and Daphne, but hewas obliged to deny himself the fulfilment of this desire. He must nowthink solely of regaining his sight. 

Obedient to the oracle, he would go to the desert where from the"starving sand" the radiant daylight was to rise anew for him. 

There he would, at any rate, be permitted to recover the clearness ofperception and feeling which he had lost in the delirium of the dissolutelife of pleasure that he had led in the past. Pythagoras had alreadyforbidden the folly of spoiling the present by remorse; and he, too, didnot do this. It would have been repugnant to his genuinely Greek nature. Instead of looking backward with peevish regret, his purpose was to lookwith blithe confidence toward the future, and to do his best to render itbetter and more fruitful than the months of revel which lay behind him. 

He could no longer imagine a life worth living without Daphne, and thethought that if his uncle were robbed of his wealth he would become hersupport cheered his heart. If the oracle did not fulfil its promise, hewould again appeal to medical skill, and submit even to the most severesuffering which might be imposed upon him. 

The drive to the great harbour was soon over, but the boat which laywaiting for him had a considerable distance to traverse, for the Tacheiawas no longer at the landing place, but was tacking outside the Pharos, in order, if the warrant of arrest were issued, not to be stopped at thechannel dominated by the lighthouse. He found the slender triremepervaded by a restless stir. His uncle had long been expecting him withburning impatience. 

He knew, through Philippus, what duty still detained the deceived artist, but he learned, at the same time, that his own imprisonment had beendetermined, and it would be advisable for him to leave the city behindhim as quickly as possible. Yet neither Daphne nor he was willing todepart without saying farewell to Hermon. 

But the danger was increasing every moment, and, warm as was the parting, the last clasp of the hand and kiss swiftly followed the first words ofgreeting. 

So the blind artist learned only that Archias was going to the island ofLesbos, his mother's home, and that he had promised his daughter to giveHermon time to recover his sight. The property bequeathed to him byMyrtilus had been placed by the merchant in the royal bank, and he hadalso protected himself against any chance of poverty. Hermon was to sendnews of his health to Lesbos from time to time if a safe opportunityoffered and, when Daphne knew where he was to be found, she could let himhave tidings. Of course, for the present great caution must be exercisedin order not to betray the abode of the fugitives. 

Hermon, too, ought to evade the pursuit of the incensed King as quicklyas possible. 

Not only Daphne's eyes, but her father's also, overflowed with tears atthis parting, and Hermon perceived more plainly than ever that he was asdear to his uncle as though he were his own son. 

The low words which the artist exchanged with the woman whose love, evenduring the period of separation, would shed light and warmth upon hisdarkened life, were deeply impressed upon the souls of both. 

For the present, faithful Gras was to remain in charge of his master'shouse in Alexandria. Leaning on his arm, the blind man left the Tacheia, which, as soon as both had entered the boat, was urged forward bypowerful strokes of the oars. 

The Bithynian informed Hermon that kerchiefs were waving him a farewellfrom the trireme, that the sails had been unfurled, and the wind wasdriving the swift vessel before it like a swallow. 

At the Pharos Gras reported that a royal galley was just passing them, undoubtedly in pursuit of the Tacheia; but the latter was the swiftest ofall the Greek vessels, and they need not fear that she would be overtakenby the war ship. 

With a sore heart and the desolate feeling of being now utterly alone, Hermon again landed and ordered that his uncle's harmamaxa should conveyhim to the necropolis. He desired to seek peace at his mother's grave, and to take leave of these beloved tombs. 

Guided by the steward, he left them cheered and with fresh confidence inthe future, and the faithful servant's account of the energy with whichDaphne had aided the preparations for departure benefited him like arefreshing bath. 

When he was again at home, one visitor after another was announced, whocame there from the festival in the palaestra, and, in spite of his greatreluctance to receive them, he denied no one admittance, but listenedeven to the ill-disposed and spiteful. 

In the battle which he had commenced he must not shrink from wounds, andhe was struck by many a poisoned shaft. But, to make amends, a clearunderstanding was effected between him and those whom he esteemed. 

The last caller left him just before midnight. 

Hermon now made many preparations for departure. 

He intended to go into the desert with very little luggage, as the oracleseemed to direct. How long a time his absence would extend could not beestimated, and the many poor people whom he had fed and supported mustnot suffer through his departure. The arrangements required to effectthis he dictated to the slave, who understood writing. He had gained inhim an extremely capable servant, and Patran expressed his readiness tofollow him into the desert; but the wry face which, sure that the blindman could not see him, he made while saying so, seemed to prove thecontrary. 

Weary, and yet too excited to find sleep, Hermon at last went to rest. 

If his Myrtilus had been with him now, what would he not have had to sayto express his gratitude, to explain! How overjoyed he would have beenat the fulfilment of his wish to see him united to Daphne, at least inheart; with what fiery ardour he would have upbraided those who believedhim capable of having appropriated what belonged to another!

But Myrtilus was no more, and who could tell whether his body had notremained unburied, and his soul was therefore condemned to be bornerestlessly between heaven and earth, like a leaf driven by the wind?Yet, if the earth covered him, where was the spot on which sacrificescould be offered to his soul, his tombstone could be anointed, and hehimself remembered?

Then a doubt which had never before entered his mind suddenly tookpossession of Hermon. 

Since for so many months he had firmly believed his friend's work to behis own, he might also have fallen into another delusion, and Myrtilusmight still dwell among the living. 

At this thought the blind man, with a swift movement, sat erect upon hiscouch; it seemed as if a bright light blazed before his eyes in the darkroom. 

The reasons which had led the authorities to pronounce Myrtilus deadrendered his early end probable, it is true, yet by no means proved itabsolutely. He must hold fast to that. 

He who, ever since he returned to Alexandria from Tennis, had squanderedprecious time as if possessed by evil demons, would now make a better useof it. Besides, he longed to leave the capital. What! Suppose heshould now, even though it were necessary to delay obeying the oracle'scommand, search, traverse, sail through the world in pursuit of Myrtilus, even, if it must be, to the uttermost Thule?

But he fell back upon the couch as quickly as he had started up. 

"Blind! blind!" he groaned in dull despair. How could he, who was notable even to see his hand before his eyes, succeed in finding his friend?

And yet, yet----

Had his mind been darkened with his eyes, that this thought came to himnow for the first time, that he had not sent messengers to all quartersof the globe to find some trace of the assailants and, with them, of thelost man?

Perhaps it was Ledscha who had him in her power, and, while hewas pondering and forming plans for the best way of conductinginvestigations, the dimmed image of the Biamite again returned distinctlyto his mind, and with it that of Arachne and the spider, into which thegoddess transformed the weaver. 

Half overcome by sleep, he saw himself, staff in hand, led by Daphne, cross green meadows and deserts, valleys and mountains, to seek hisfriend; yet whenever he fancied he caught sight of him, and Ledscha withhim, in the distance, the spider descended from above and, with magicalspeed, wove a net which concealed both from his gaze. 

Groaning and deeply disturbed, half awake, he struggled onward, alwaystoward one goal, to find his Myrtilus again, when suddenly the sound ofthe knocker on the entrance door and the barking of Lycas, his Arabiangreyhound, shook the house. 

Recalled to waking life, he started up and listened. 

Had the men who were to arrest him or inquisitive visitors not allowedthemselves to be deterred even by the late hour?

He listened angrily as the old porter sternly accosted the late guest;but, directly after, the gray-haired native of the region near the FirstCataract burst into the strange Nubian oaths which he lavished liberallywhenever anything stirred his aged soul. 

The dog, which Hermon had owned only a few months, continued to bark; butabove his hostile baying the blind man thought he recognised a name atwhose sound the blood surged hotly into his cheeks. Yet he couldscarcely have heard aright!

Still he sprang from the couch, groped his way to the door, opened it, and entered the impluvium that adjoined his bedroom. The cool night airblew upon him from the open ceiling. A strong draught showed that thedoor leading from the atrium was being opened, and now a shout, halfchoked by weeping, greeted him: "Hermon! My clear, my poor belovedmaster!"

"Bias, faithful Bias!" fell from the blind man's lips, and when he feltthe returned slave sink down before him, cover his hand with kisses andwet it with tears, he raised him in his strong arms, clasped him in awarm embrace, kissed his checks, and gasped, "And Myrtilus, my Myrtilus, is he alive?"

"Yes, yes, yes, " sobbed Bias. "But you, my lord-blind, blind! Can it betrue?"

When Hermon released him to inquire again about his friend, Biasstammered: "He isn't faring so badly; but you, you, bereft of light andalso of the joy of seeing your faithful Bias again! And the immortalsprolong one's years to experience such evils! Two griefs always belongto one joy, like two horses to a chariot. "

"My wise Bias! Just as you were of old!" cried Hermon in joyfulexcitement. 

Then he quieted the hound and ordered one of the attendants, who camehurrying in, to bring out whatever dainty viands the house contained anda jar of the best Byblus wine from the cellar. 

Meanwhile he did not cease his inquiries about his friend's health, andordered a goblet to be brought him also, that he might pledge the slaveand give brief answers to his sympathizing questions about the cause ofthe blindness, the noble Archias, the gracious young mistress Daphne, thefamous Philippus and his wife, the companion Chrysilla, and the stewardGras. Amid all this he resolved to free the faithful fellow and, whileBias was eating, he could not refrain from telling him that he had founda mistress for him, that Daphne was the wife whom he had chosen, but thewedding was still a long way off. 

He controlled his impatience to learn the particulars concerning hisfriend's fate until Bias had partially satisfied his hunger. 

A short time ago Hermon would have declared it impossible that he couldever become so happy during this period of conflict and separation fromthe object of his love. 

The thought of his lost inheritance doubtless flitted through his mind, but it seemed merely like worthless dust, and the certainty that Myrtilusstill walked among the living filled him with unclouded happiness. Eventhough he could no longer see him, he might expect to hear his belovedvoice again. Oh, what delight that he was permitted to have his friendonce more, as well as Daphne, that he could meet him so freely andjoyously and keep the laurel, which had rested with such leaden weightupon his head, for Myrtilus, and for him alone!

But where was he?

What was the name of the miracle which had saved him, and yet kept himaway from his embrace so long?

How had Myrtilus and Bias escaped the flames and death on that night ofhorror?

A flood of questions assailed the slave before he could begin aconnected account, and Hermon constantly interrupted it to ask fordetails concerning his friend and his health at each period and onevery occasion. 

Much surprised by his discreet manner, the artist listened to thebondman's narrative; for though Bias had formerly allowed himself toindulge in various little familiarities toward his master, he refrainedfrom them entirely in this story, and the blind man's misfortune investedhim in his eyes with a peculiar sacredness. 

CHAPTER X. 

He had arrived wounded on the pirate ship with his master's friend, thereturned bondman began. When he had regained consciousness, he metLedscha on board the Hydra, as the wife of the pirate Hanno. She hadnursed Myrtilus with tireless solicitude, and also often cared for his, Bias's, wounds. After the recovery of the prisoners, she became theirprotectress, and placed Bias in the service of the Greek artist. 

They, the Gaul Lutarius, and one of the sculptor's slaves, were the onlyones who had been brought on board the Hydra alive from the attack inTennis, but the latter soon succumbed to his wounds. 

Hermon owed it solely to the bridge-builder that he had escaped fromthe vengeance of his Biamite foe, for the tall Gaul, whose thick beardresembled Hermon's in length and blackness, was mistaken by Hanno for theperson whom Ledscha had directed him to deliver alive into her power. 

The pirate had surrendered the wrong captive to the woman he loved and, as Bias declared, to his serious disadvantage; for, though Hanno and theBiamite girl were husband and wife, no one could help perceiving the colddislike with which Ledscha rebuffed the giant who read her every wish inher eyes. Finally, the captain of the pirate ship, a silent man bynature, often did not open his lips for days except to give orders to thecrew. Frequently he even refused to be relieved from duty, and remainedall night at the helm. 

Only when, at his own risk, or with the vessels of his father andbrother, he attacked merchant ships or defended himself against a wargalley, did he wake to vigorous life and rush with gallant recklessnessinto battle. 

A single man on the Hydra was little inferior to him in strength anddaring--the Gaul Lutarius. He had been enrolled among the pirates, andwhen Hanno was wounded in an engagement with a Syrian war galley, waselected his representative. During this time Ledscha faithfullyperformed her duty as her young husband's nurse, but afterward treatedhim as coldly as before. 

Yet she devoted herself eagerly to the ship and the crew, and the fierce, lawless fellows cheerfully submitted to the sensible arrangements oftheir captain's beautiful, energetic wife. At this period Bias had oftenmet Ledscha engaged in secret conversation with the Gaul, yet if anytender emotion really attracted her toward any one other than herhusband, Myrtilus would have been suspected rather than the black-beardedbridge-builder; for she not only showed the sculptor the kindestconsideration, but often entered into conversation with him, and evenpersuaded him, when the sea was calm, or the Hydra lay at anchor in oneof the hidden bays known to the pirates, to practise his art, and at lastto make a bust of her. She had succeeded in getting him clay, wax, andtools for the purpose. After asking which goddess had ill-treated theweaver Arachne, she commanded him to make a head of Athene, adorned withthe helmet, modelled from her own. During this time she frequentlyinquired whether her features really were not beautiful enough to becopied for the countenance of a goddess, and when he eagerly assured herof the fact, made him swear that he was not deceiving her with flattery. 

Neither Bias nor Myrtilus had ever been allowed to remain on shore; but, on the whole, the slave protested, Myrtilus's health, thanks to the puresea air on the Hydra, had improved, in spite of the longing which oftenassailed him, and the great excitements to which he was sometimesexposed. 

There had been anxious hours when Hanno's father and brothers visitedthe Hydra to induce her captain to make money out of the captivesculptor, and either sell him at a high price or extort a large ransomfrom him; but Bias had overheard how resolutely Ledscha opposed theseproposals, and represented to old Satabus of what priceless importanceMyrtilus might become to them if either should be captured andimprisoned. 

The greatest excitements, of course, had been connected with the battlesof the pirates. Myrtilus, who, in spite of his feeble health, by nomeans lacked courage, found it especially hard to bear that during theconflicts he was locked up with Bias, but even Ledscha could neitherprevent nor restrict these measures. 

Bias could not tell what seas the Hydra had sailed, nor at what--usuallydesolate-shores she had touched. He only knew that she had gone toSinope in Pontus, passed through the Propontis, and then sought bootynear the coasts of Asia Minor. Ledscha had refused to answer everyquestion that referred to these things. 

Latterly, the young wife had become very grave, and apparently completelysevered her relations with her husband; but she also studiously avoidedthe Gaul and, if they talked to each other at all, it was in hurriedwhispers. 

So events went on until something occurred which was to affect the livesof the prisoners deeply. It must have been just beyond the outlet fromthe Hellespont into the AEgean Sea; for, in order to pass through thenarrow straits leading thither from Pontus, the Hydra had been mostskilfully given the appearance of a peaceful merchant vessel. 

The slave's soul must have been greatly agitated by this experience, forwhile, hitherto, whenever he was interrupted by Hermon he had retainedhis composure, and could not refrain from occasionally connecting apractical application with his report, now, mastered by the power of theremembrance, he uttered what he wished to tell his master in an oppressedtone, while bright drops of perspiration bedewed the speaker's brow. 

A large merchant ship had approached them, and three men came on boardthe Hydra--old Satabus, his son Labaja, and a gray-haired, beardedseafarer of tall stature and dignified bearing, Schalit, Ledscha'sfather. 

The meeting between the Biamite ship-owner and his child, after so long aseparation, was a singular one; for the young wife held out her hand toher father timidly, with downcast eyes, and he refused to take it. Directly after, however, as if constrained by an irresistible impulse, he drew his unruly daughter toward him and kissed her brow and cheeks. 

Roast meat and the best wine had been served in the large ship's cabin;but though Myrtilus and Bias had been locked up as if a bloody battle wasexpected, the loud, angry uproar of men's deep voices reached them, andLedscha's shrill tones shrieking in passionate wrath blended in thestrife. Furniture must have been upset and dishes broken, yet the giantswho were disputing here did not come to blows. 

At last the savage turmoil subsided. 

When Bias and his master were again released, Ledscha was standing, inthe dusk of evening, at the foot of the mainmast, pressing her browagainst the wood as if she needed some support to save herself fromfalling. 

She checked Myrtilus's words with an imperious "Let me alone!" The nextday she had paced restlessly up and down the deck like a caged beast ofprey, and would permit no one to speak to her. 

At noon Hanno was about to get into a boat to go to her father's ship, and she insisted upon accompanying him. But this time the corsair seemedcompletely transformed, and with the pitiless sternness, which he so wellknew how to use in issuing commands, ordered her to remain on the Hydra. 

She, however, by no means obeyed her husband's mandate withoutresistance, and, at the recollection of the conflict which now occurredbetween the pair, in which she raged like a tigress, the narrator'scheeks crimsoned. 

The quarrel was ended by the powerful seaman's taking in his arms hislithe, slender wife, who resisted him with all her strength and hadalready touched the side of the boat with her foot, and putting her downon the deck of his ship. 

Then Hanno leaped back into the skiff, while Ledscha, groaning with rage, retired to the cabin. 

An hour after she again appeared on deck, called Myrtilus and Bias and, showing them her eyes, reddened by tears, told them, as if in apology forher weakness, that she had not been permitted to bid her father farewell. Then, pallid as a corpse, she had turned the conversation upon Hermon, and informed Myrtilus that an Alexandrian pilot had told her father thathe was blind, and her brother-in-law Labaja had heard the same thing. While saying this, her lips curled scornfully, but when she saw howdeeply their friend's misfortune moved her two prisoners, she waved herhand, declaring that he did not need their sympathy; the pilot hadreported that he was living in magnificence and pleasure, and the peoplein the capital honoured and praised him as if he were a god. 

Thereupon she had laughed shrilly and reviled so bitterly thecontemptible blind Fortune that remains most loyal to those who deserveto perish in the deepest misery, that Bias avoided repeating her wordsto his master. 

The news of Myrtilus's legacy had not reached her ears, and Bias, too, had just heard of it for the first time. 

Ledscha's object had been to relieve her troubled soul by attacks uponthe man whom she hated, but she suddenly turned to the master and servantto ask if they desired to obtain their liberty. 

Oh, how quickly a hopeful "Yes" reached the ears of the gloomy woman!how ready both were to swear, by a solemn oath, to fulfil the conditionsthe Biamite desired to impose!

As soon as opportunity offered, both were to leave the Hydra with oneother person who, like Bias and herself, understood how to mange a boat. 

The favourable moment soon came. One moonless night, when the steeringof the Hydra was intrusted to the Gaul, Ledscha waked the two prisonersand, with the Gaul Lutarius, Myrtilus, and the slave, entered the boat, which conveyed them to the shore without accident or interruption. 

Bias knew the name of the place where it had anchored, it is true, butthe oath which Ledscha had made him swear there was so terrible that hewould not have broken it at any cost. 

This oath required the slave, who, three days after their landing, wassent to Alexandria by the first ship that sailed for that port, tomaintain the most absolute secrecy concerning Myrtilus's hiding placeuntil he was authorized to speak. Bias was to go to Alexandria withoutdelay, and there obtain from Archias, who managed Myrtilus's property, the sums which Ledscha intended to use in the following manner: Two attictalents Bias was to bring back. These were for the Gaul, probably inpayment for his assistance. Two more were to be taken by the slave tothe Temple of Nemesis. Lastly, Bias was to deliver five talents to oldTabus, who kept the treasure of the pirate family on the Owl's Nest, andtell her that Ledscha, in this money, sent back the bridal dowry whichHanno had paid her father for his daughter. With this she releasedherself from the husband who inspired her with feelings very unlike love. 

Hermon asked to have this commission repeated, and received thedirections Myrtilus had given to the slave. The blind man's hope thatthey must also include greetings and news from his friend's hand wasdestroyed by Bias, whom Myrtilus, in the leisure hours on the Hydra, hadtaught to read. This was not so difficult a task for the slave, wholonged for knowledge, and had already tried it before. But with writing, on the other hand, he could make no headway. He was too old, and hishand had become too clumsy to acquire this difficult art. 

In reply to Hermon's anxious question whether his friend needed anythingin his present abode, the slave reported that he was at liberty to moveabout at will, and was not even obliged to share Ledscha's lodgings. Helacked nothing, for the Biamite, besides some gold, had left with himalso gems and pearls of such great value that they would suffice tosupport him several years. As for himself, she had supplied him morethan abundantly with money for travelling expenses. 

Myrtilus was awaiting his return in a city prospering under a rich andwise regent, and sent whole cargoes of affectionate remembrances. Thesculptor, too, was firmly resolved to keep the oath imposed upon him. 

As soon as he, Bias, had performed the commission intrusted to him, heand Myrtilus would be released from their vow, and Hermon would learn hisfriend's residence. 

CHAPTER XI. 

No morning brightened Hermon's night of darkness. 

When the returned slave had finished his report, the sun was alreadyshining into his master's room. 

Without lying down again, the latter went at once to the Tennis notary, who had moved to Alexandria two months before, and with his assistanceraised the money which his friend needed. 

Worthy Melampus had received the news that Myrtilus was still alive in avery singular manner. Even now he could grasp only one thing at a time, and he loved Hermon with sincere devotion. Therefore the lawyer who hadso zealously striven to expedite the blind man's entering into possessionof his friend's inheritance would very willingly have permitted Myrtilus--doubtless an invalid--to continue to rest quietly among the dead. Yethis kind heart rejoiced at the deliverance of the famous young artist, and so during Hermon's story he had passed from sincere regret to loudexpressions of joyous sympathy. 

Lastly, he had placed his whole property at the disposal of Hermon, whohad paid him liberally for his work, to provide for the blind sculptor'sfuture. This generous offer had been declined; but he now assistedHermon to prepare the emancipation papers for his faithful Bias, andfound a ship that was bound to Tanis. Toward evening he accompaniedHermon to the harbour and, after a cordial farewell from his helpfulfriend, the artist, with the new "freedman" Bias and the slave clerkPatran, went on board the vessel, now ready to sail. 

The voyage was one of the speediest, yet the end came too soon for bothmaster and servant--Hermon had not yet heard enough of the friend beyondhis reach, and Bias was far from having related everything he desired totell about Myrtilus and Ledscha; yet he was now permitted to expressevery opinion that entered his mind, and this had occupied a great dealof time. 

Bias also sought to know much more about Hermon's past and future than hehad yet learned, not merely from curiosity, but because he foresaw thatMyrtilus would not cease to question him about his blind friend. 

The misfortune must have produced a deep and lasting effect upon theartist's joyous nature, for his whole bearing was pervaded by suchearnestness and dignity that years, instead of months, seemed to haveelapsed since their separation. 

It was characteristic of Daphne that her lover's blindness did notalienate her from him; yet why had not the girl, who still desired tobecome his wife, been able to wed the helpless man who had lost hissight? If the father did not wish to be separated from his daughter, surely he could live with the young couple. A home was quickly madeeverywhere for the rich, and, if Archias was tired of his house inAlexandria, as Hermon had intimated, there was room enough in the worldfor a new one. 

But that was the way with things here below! Man was the cause of man'smisfortune! Daphne and Hermon remained the same; but Archias from anaffectionate father had become transformed into an entirely differentperson. If the former had been allowed to follow their inclinations, they would now be united and happy, while, because a third person sowilled, they must go their way solitary and wretched. 

He expressed this view to his master, and insisted upon his opinion untilHermon confided to him what had driven Archias from Alexandria. 

Patran, Bias's successor, was by no means satisfactory to him. HadHermon retained his sight, he certainly would not have purchased him, inspite of his skill as a scribe, for the Egyptian had a "bad face. "

Oh, if only he could have been permitted to stay with his benefactorinstead of this sullen man! How carefully he would have removed thestones from his darkened pathway!

During the voyage he was obliged to undergo severe struggles to keep theoath of secrecy imposed upon him; but perjury threatened him with themost horrible tortures, not to mention the sorceress Tabus, whom he wasto meet. 

So Myrtilus's abode remained unknown to Hermon. 

Bias approved his master's intention of going into the desert. He hadoften seen the oracle of Amon tested, and he himself had experienced thehealthfulness of the desert air. Besides, it made him proud to see thatHermon was disposed to follow his suggestion of pitching his tent in aspot which he designated. This was at the end of the arm of the sea atClysma. Several trees grew there beside small springs, and a peacefulfamily of Amalekites raised vegetables in their little garden, situatedon higher ground, watered by the desert wells. 

When a boy, before the doom of slavery had been pronounced upon him andhis father, his mother, by the priest's advice, took him there to recoverfrom the severe attack of fever which he could not shake off amid thedamp papyrus plantations surrounding his parents' house. In the dry, pure air of the desert he recovered, and he would guide Hermon therebefore returning to Myrtilus. 

From Tanis they reached Tennis in a few hours, and found shelter in thehome of the superintendent of Archias's weaving establishments, whosehospitality Myrtilus and Hermon had enjoyed before their installation inthe white house, now burned to the ground. The Alexandrian bills ofexchange were paid in gold by the lessee of the royal bank, who was agood friend of Hermon. Toward evening, both rowed to the Owl's Nest, taking the five talents with which the runaway wife intended to purchasefreedom from her husband. 

As the men approached the central door of the pirates' house, a middy-aged Biamite woman appeared and rudely ordered them to leave the island. Tabus was weak, and refused to see visitors. But she was mistaken; forwhen Bias, in the dialect of his tribe, shouted loudly that messengersfrom the wife of her grandson Hanno had arrived, there was a movement atthe back of the room, and broken sentences, gasped with difficulty, expressed the old dame's wish to receive the strangers. 

On a sheep's-wool couch, over which was spread a wolfskin, the last giftof her son Satabus, lay the sorceress, who raised herself as Hermonpassed through the door. 

After his greeting, she pointed to her deaf ear and begged him to speaklouder. At the same time she gazed into his eyes with a keen, penetrating glance, and interrupted him by the question: "The Greeksculptor whose studio was burned over his head? And blind? Blindstill?"

"In both eyes, " Bias answered for his master. 

"And you, fellow?" the old dame asked; then, recollecting herself, stopped the reply on the servant's lips with the hasty remark: "You arethe blackbeard's slave--a Biamite? Oh, I remember perfectly! Youdisappeared with the burning house. "

Then she gazed intently and thoughtfully from one to the other, and atlast, pointing to Bias, muttered in a whisper: "You alone come from Hannoand Ledscha, and were with them on the Hydra? Very well. What news haveyou for the old woman from the young couple?"

The freedman began to relate what brought him to the Owl's Nest, and thegray-haired crone listened eagerly until he said that Ledscha livedunhappily with her husband, and therefore had left him. She sent back toher, as the head of Hanno's family, the bridal dowry with which Hanno hadbought her from her father as his wife. 

Then Tabus struggled into a little more erect posture, and asked: "Whatdoes this mean? Five talents--and gold, not silver talents? And shesends the money to me? To me? And she ran away from her husband? Butno--no! Once more--you are a Biamite--repeat it in our own language--andloudly. This ear is the better one. "

Bias obeyed, and the old dame listened to the end without interruptinghim: then raising her brown right hand, covered with a network of blue-black veins, she clinched it into a fist, which she shook far moreviolently than Bias would have believed possible in her weak condition. At the same time she pressed her lips so tightly together that hertoothless mouth deepened into a hole, and her dim eyes shone with a keen, menacing light. For some time she found no reply, though strange, rattling, gasping sounds escaped her heaving breast. 

At last she succeeded in uttering words, and shrieked shrilly: "This--this--away with the golden trash! With the bridal dowry of the familyrejected, and once more free, the base fool thinks she would be like thecaptive fox that gnawed the rope! Oh, this age, these people! And this, this is the haughty, strong Ledscha, the daughter of the Biamites, who--there stands the blind girl--deceiver!--who so admirably avengedherself?"

Here her voice failed, and Hermon began to speak to assure her that sheunderstood Ledscha's wish aright. Then he asked her for a token by whichshe acknowledged the receipt of the gold, which he handed her in a stoutlinen bag. 

But his purpose was not fulfilled, for suddenly, flaming with passionatewrath, she thrust the purse aside, groaning: "Not an obol of the accurseddestruction of souls shall come back to Hanno, nor even into the familystore. Until his heart and hers stop beating, the most indissoluble. Bond will unite both. She desires to ransom herself from a lawfulmarriage concluded by her father, as if she were a captive of war;perhaps she even wants to follow another. Hanno, brave lad, was readyto go to death for her sake, and she rewards him by bringing shame on hishead and disgrace on us all. Oh, these times, this world! Everythingthat is inviolable and holy trampled in the dust! But they are not allso! In spite of Grecian infidelity, marriage is still honoured among ourpeople. But she who mocks what is sacred, and tramples holy customsunder foot, shall be accursed, execrated, given over to want, hunger, disease, death!"

With rattling breath and closed eyes she leaned farther back against thecushions that supported her; but Bias, in their common language, tried tosoothe her, and informed her that, though Ledscha had probably run awayfrom her husband, she had by no means renounced her vengeance. He wasbringing two talents with him to place in the Temple of Nemesis. 

"Of Nemesis?" repeated the old dame. Then she tried to raise herselfand, as she constantly sank back again, Bias aided her. But she hadscarcely recovered her sitting posture when she gasped to the freedman:"Nemesis, who helped, and is to continue to help her to destroy her foe?Well, well! Five talents--a great sum, a great sum! But the more thebetter! To Nemesis with them, to Ate and the Erinyes! The talons of theavenging goddess shall tear the beautiful face, the heart, and the liverof the accursed one! A twofold malediction on her who has wronged theson of my Satabus!"

While speaking, her head nodded swiftly up and down, and when at last shebowed it wearily, her visitors heard her murmur the names of Satabus andHanno, sometimes tenderly, sometimes mournfully. 

Finally she asked whether any one else was concerned in Ledscha's flight;and when she learned that a Gallic bridge-builder accompanied thefugitive wife, she again started up as if frantic, exclaiming: "Yes, toNemesis with the gold! We neither need nor want it, and Satabus, my son, he will bless me for renunciation--"

Here exhaustion again silenced her. She gazed mutely and thoughtfullyinto vacancy, until at last, turning to Bias, she began more calmly: "Youwill see her again, man, and must tell her what the clan of Tabus boughtwith her talents. Take her my curse, and let her know that her friendswould be my foes, and her foes should find in Tabus a benefactress!"

Then, deeply buried in thought, she again fixed her eyes on the floor;but at last she called to Hermon, saying: "You, blind Greek--am I notright?--the torch was thrust into your face, and you lost the sight ofboth eyes?"

The artist assented to this question; but she bade him sit down beforeher, and when he bent his face near her she raised one lid after theother with trembling fingers, yet lightly and skilfully, gazed long andintently into his eyes, and murmured: "Like black Psoti and lawlessSimeon, and they are both cured. "

"Can you restore me?" Hermon now asked in great excitement. "Answer mehonestly, you experienced woman! Give me back my sight, and demandwhatever gold and valuables I still possess--"

"Keep them, " Tabus contemptuously interrupted. "Not for gold or goodswill I restore you the best gift man can lose. I will cure you becauseyou are the person to whom the infamous wretch most ardently wished thesorest trouble. When she hoped to destroy you, she perceived in thisdeed the happiness which had been promised to her on a night when thefull moon was shining. To-day--this very night--the disk betweenAstarte's horns rounds again, and presently--wait a little while!--presently you shall have what the light restores you--" Then she calledthe Biamite woman, ordered her to bring the medicine chest, and took fromit one vessel after another. The box she was seeking was among the lastand, while handing it to Bias, she muttered: "Oh, yes, certainly--it doesone good to destroy a foe, but no less to make her foe happy!"

Turning to the freedman, she went on in a louder tone: "You, slave, shallinform Hanno's wife that old Tabus gave the sculptor, whose blindnessshe caused, the remedy which restored the sight of black Psoti, whom sheknew. " Here she paused, gazed upward, and murmured almostunintelligibly: "Satabus, Hanno! If this is the last act of the oldmother, it will give ye pleasure. "

Then she told Hermon to kneel again, and ordered the slave to hold thelamp which her nurse Tasia had just lighted at the hearth fire. 

"The last, " she said, looking into the box, "but it will be enough. Theodour of the herb in the salve is as strong as if it had been preparedyesterday. "

She laid the first bandage on Hermon's eyes with her own weak fingers, at the same time muttering an incantation; but it did not seem to satisfyher. Great excitement had taken possession of her, and as the silverlight of the full moon shone into her room she waved her hands before theartist's eyes and fixed her gaze upon the threshold illumined by themoonbeams, ejaculating sentences incomprehensible to the blind man. Biassupported her, for she had risen to her full height, and he felt how shetottered and trembled. 

Yet her strength held out to whisper to Hermon: "Nearer, still nearer!By the light of the august one whose rays greet us, let it be said: Youwill see again. Await your recovery patiently in a quiet place in thepure air, not in the city. Refrain from everything with which the Greeksintoxicate themselves. Shun wine, and whatever heats the blood. Recovery is coming; I see it drawing near. You will see again as surelyas I now curse the woman who abandoned the husband to whom she vowedfidelity. She rejoiced over your blindness, and she will gnash her teethwith rage and grief when she hears that it was Tabus who brought lightinto the darkness that surrounds you. "

With these words she pushed off the freedman's supporting arms and sankback upon the couch. 

Again Hermon tried to thank her; but she would not permit it, and said inan almost inaudible tone: "I really did not give the salve to do yougood--the last act of all--"

Finally she murmured a few words of direction for its use, and added thathe must keep the sunlight from his blind eyes by bandages and shades, asif it were a cruel foe. 

When she paused, and Bias asked her another question, she pointed to thedoor, exclaiming as loudly as her weakness permitted, "Go, I tell you, go!"

Hermon obeyed and left her, accompanied by the freedman, who carried thebox of salve so full of precious promise. 

The next morning Bias delivered to the astonished priest of Nemesis thelarge gifts intended for the avenging goddess. 

Before Hermon entered the boat with him and his Egyptian slave, thefreedman told his master that Gula was again living in perfect harmonywith the husband who had cast her off, and Taus, Ledscha's youngersister, was the wife of the young Biamite who, she had feared, wouldgive up his wooing on account of her visit to Hermon's studio. 

After a long voyage through the canal which had been dug a short timebefore, connecting the Mediterranean with the Red Sea, the three menreached Clysma. Opposite to it, on the eastern shore of the narrownorthern point of the Erythraean sea--[Red Sea]--lay the goal of theirjourney, and thither Bias led his blind master, followed by the slave, on shore. 

CHAPTER XII. 

It was long since Hermon had felt so free and light-hearted as duringthis voyage. 

He firmly believed in his recovery. 

A few days before he had escaped death in the royal palace as if by amiracle, and he owed his deliverance to the woman he loved. 

In the Temple of Nemesis at Tennis the conviction that the goddess hadceased to persecute him took possession of his mind. 

True, his blind eyes had been unable to see her menacing statue, but noteven the slightest thrill of horror had seized him in its presence. InAlexandria, after his departure from Proclus's banquet, she had desistedfrom pursuing him. Else how would she have permitted him to escapeuninjured when he was already standing upon the verge of an abyss, and awave of her hand would have sufficed to hurl him into the death-dealinggulf?

But his swift confession, and the transformation which followed it, hadreconciled him not only with her, but also with the other gods; for theyappeared to him in forms as radiant and friendly as in the days of hisboyhood, when, while Bias took the helm on the long voyage through thecanal and the Bitter Lakes, he recalled the visible world to his memoryand, from the rising sun, Phoebus Apollo, the lord of light and purity, gazed at him from his golden chariot, drawn by four horses, andAphrodite, the embodiment of all beauty, rose before him from the snowyfoam of the azure waves. Demeter, in the form of Daphne, appeared, dispensing prosperity, above the swaying golden waves of the ripeninggrain fields and bestowing peace beside the domestic hearth. The wholeworld once more seemed peopled with deities, and he felt their rule inhis own breast. 

The place of which Bias had told him was situated on a lofty portion ofthe shore. Beside the springs which there gushed from the soil of thedesert grew green palm trees and thorny acacias. Farther on flourishedthe fragrant betharan. About a thousand paces from this spot thefaithful freedman pitched the little tent obtained in Tennis under theshade of several tall palm trees and a sejal acacia. 

Not far from the springs lived the same family of Amalekites whom Biashad known from boyhood. They raised a few vegetables in little beds, andthe men acted as guards to the caravans which came from Egypt through thepeninsula of Sinai to Petrea and Hebron. The daughter of the aged sheikwhose men accompanied the trains of goods, a pleasant, middle-aged woman, recognised the Biamite, who when a boy had recovered under her mother'snursing, and promised Bias to honour his blind master as a valued guestof the tribe. 

Not until after he had done everything in his power to render life in thewilderness endurable, and had placed a fresh bandage over his eyes, wouldBias leave his master. 

The freedman entered the boat weeping, and Hermon, deeply agitated, turned his face toward him. 

When he was left alone with his Egyptian slave, with whom he rarelyexchanged a word, he fancied that, amid the murmur of the waves washingthe strand at his feet, blended the sounds of the street which led pasthis house in Alexandria, and with them all sorts of disagreeable memoriescrowded upon him; but soon he no longer heard them, and the next nightbrought refreshing sleep. 

Even on the second day he felt that the profound silence which surroundedhim was a benefit. The stillness affected him like something physical. 

The life was certainly monotonous, and at first there were hours when thecourse of the new existence, so devoid of any change, op pressed him, buthe experienced no tedium. His mental life was too rich, and theunburdening of his anxious soul too great a relief for that. 

He had shunned serious thought since he left the philosopher's school;but here it soon afforded him the highest pleasure, for never had hismind moved so freely, so undisturbed by any limit or obstacle. 

He did not need to search for what he hoped to find in the wilderness. His whole past life passed before him as if by its own volition. Allthat he had ever experienced, learned, thought, felt, rose before hismind with wonderful distinctness, and when he overlooked all his mentalpossessions, as if from a high watch-tower in the bright sunshine, hebegan to consider how he had used the details and how he could continueto do so. 

Whatever he had seen incorrectly forced itself resistlessly upon him, yet here also the Greek nature, deeply implanted in his soul, guardedhim, and it was easy for him to avoid self-torturing remorse. He onlydesired to utilize for improvement what he recognised as false. 

When in this delicious silence he listened to the contradictory demandsof his intellect and his senses, it often seemed as though he was presentat a discussion between two guests who were exchanging their opinionsconcerning the subject that occupied his mind. 

Here he first learned to deepen sound intellectual power and listen tothe demands of the heart, or to repulse and condemn them. 

Ah, yes, he was still blind; but never had he observed and recognisedhuman life and its stage, down to the minutest detail, which his eyesrefused to show him, so keenly as during these clays. The phenomenawhich had attracted or repelled his vision here appeared nearer and moredistinctly. 

What he called "reality" and believed he understood thoroughly andestimated correctly, now disclosed many a secret which had previouslyremained concealed. 

How defective his visual perception had been! how necessary it nowseemed to subject his judgment to a new test! Doubtless a wealth ofartistic subjects had come to him from the world of reality which he hadplaced far above everything else, but a greater and nobler one from thesphere which he had shunned as unfruitful and corrupting. 

As if by magic, the world of ideality opened before him in this exquisitesilence. He again found in his own soul the joyous creative forces ofNature, and the surrounding stillness increased tenfold his capacity ofperceiving it; nay, he felt as if creative energy dwelt in solitudeitself. 

His mind had always turned toward greatness. The desire to impress hisworks with the stamp of his own overflowing power had carried him farbeyond moderation in modelling his struggling Maenads. 

Now, when he sought for subjects, beside the smaller and more simple onesappeared mighty and manifold ones, often of superhuman grandeur. 

Oh, if a higher power would at some future day permit him to model withhis strong hands this battle of the Amazons, this Phoebus Apollo, radiantin beauty and the glow of victory, conquering the dragons of darkness!

Arachne, too, returned to his mind, and also Demeter. But she did nothover before him as the peaceful dispenser of blessings, the preserver ofpeace, but as the maternal earth goddess, robbed of her daughterProserpina. How varied in meaning was this myth!--and he strove tofollow it in every direction. 

Nothing more could come to the blind artist from Nature by the aid of hisphysical vision. The realm of reality was closed to him; but he hadfound the key to that of the ideal, and what he found in it proved to beno less true than the objects the other had offered. 

How rich in forms was the new world which forced itself unbidden on hisimagination! He who, a short time before, had believed whatever couldnot be touched by the hands was useless for his art, now had the choiceamong a hundred subjects, full of glowing life, which were attainable byno organ of the senses. He need fear to undertake none, if only it wasworthy of representation; for he was sure of his ability, and difficultydid not alarm him, but promised to lend creating for the first time itstrue charm. 

And, besides, without the interest of animated conversation, withoutfestal scenes where, with garlanded head and intoxicating pleasuresoaring upward from the dust of earth, existence had seemed to himshallow and not worth the trouble it imposed upon mortals, solitude nowoffered him hours as happy as he had ever experienced while revellingwith gay companions. 

At first many things had disturbed them, especially the dissatisfied, almost gloomy disposition of his Egyptian slave, who, born in the cityand accustomed to its life, found it unbearable to stay in the desertwith the strange blind master, who lived like a porter, and ordered himto prepare his wretched fare with the hands skilled in the use of thepen. 

But this living disturber of the peace was not to annoy the recluse long. Scarcely a fortnight after Bias's departure, the slave Patran, who hadcost so extravagant a sum, vanished one morning with the sculptor's moneyand silver cup. 

This rascally trick of a servant whom he had treated with almostbrotherly kindness wounded Hermon, but he soon regarded the morosefellow's disappearance as a benefit. 

When for the first time he drank water from an earthen jug, instead of asilver goblet, he thought of Diogenes, who cast his cup aside when he sawa boy raise water to his lips in his hand, yet with whom the greatMacedonian conqueror of the world would have changed places "if he hadnot been Alexander. "

The active, merry son of Bias's Amalekite friend gladly rendered him thehelp and guidance for which he had been reluctant to ask his ill-temperedslave, and he soon became accustomed to the simple fare of the nomads. Bread and milk, fruits and vegetables from his neighbour's little garden, satisfied him, and when the wine he had drunk was used, he contentedhimself, obedient to old Tabus's advice, with pure water. 

As he still had several gold coins on his person, and wore two costlyrings on his finger, he doubtless thought of sending to Clysma for meat, poultry, and wine, but he had refrained from doing so through the adviceof the Amalekite woman, who anointed his eyes with Tabus's salve andprotected them by a shade of fresh leaves from the dazzling rays of thedesert sun. She, like the sorceress on the Owl's Nest, warned himagainst all viands that inflamed the blood, and he willingly allowed herto take away what she and her gray-haired father, the experienced head ofthe tribe, pronounced detrimental to his recovery. 

At first the "beggar's fare" seemed repulsive, but he soon felt that itwas benefiting him after the riotous life of the last few months. 

One day, when the Amalekite took off his bandage, he thought he saw afaint glimmer of light, and how his heart exulted at this faint foretasteof the pleasure of sight!

In an instant hope sprang up with fresh power in his excitable soul, and his lost cheerfulness returned to him like a butterfly to the newlyopened flower. The image of his beloved Daphne rose before him in sunnyradiance, and he saw himself in his studio in the service of his art. 

He had always been fond of children, and the little ones in the Amalekitefamily quickly discovered this, and crowded around their blind friend, who played all sorts of games with them, and in spite of the bandagedeyes, over which spread a broad shade of green leaves, could makewhistles with his skilful artist hands from the reeds and willow branchesthey brought. 

He saw before him the object to which his heart still clung as distinctlyas if he need only stretch out his hand to draw it nearer, and perhaps--surely and certainly, the Amalekite said--the time would come when hewould behold it also with his bodily eyes. 

If the longing should be fulfilled! If his eyes were again permitted toconvey to him what formerly filled his soul with delight! Yes, beauty--was entitled to a higher place than truth, and if it again unfoldeditself to his gaze, how gladly and gratefully he would pay homage to itwith his art!

The hope that he might enjoy it once more now grew stronger, for theglimmer of light became brighter, and one day, when his skilful nurseagain took the bandage from his milk-white pupils, he saw something longappear, as if through, a mist. It was only the thorny acacia tree at histent; but the sight of the most beautiful of beautiful things neverfilled him with more joyful gratitude. 

Then he ordered the less valuable of his two rings to be sold to offer asacrifice to health-bestowing Isis, who had a little temple in Clysma. 

How fervently he now prayed also to the great Apollo, the foe of darknessand the lord of everything light and pure! How yearningly he besoughtAphrodite to bless him again with the enjoyment of eternal beauty, andEros to heal the wound which his arrow had inflicted upon his heart andDaphne's, and bring them together after so much distress and need!

When, after the lapse of another week, the bandage was again removed, hisinmost soul rejoiced, for his eyes showed him the rippling emerald-greensurface of the Red Sea, and the outlines of the palms, the tents, theAmalekite woman, her boy, and her two long-eared goats. 

How ardently he thanked the gracious deities who, in spite of Straton'sprecepts, were no mere figments of human imagination and, as if he hadbecome a child again, poured forth his overflowing heart with mutegratitude to his mother's soul!

The artist nature, yearning to create, began to stir within moreceaselessly than ever before. Already he saw clay and wax assuming formsbeneath his skilful hands; already he imagined himself, with fresh powerand delight, cutting majestic figures from blocks of marble, or, byhammering, carving, and filing, shaping them from gold and ivory. 

And he would not take what he intended to create solely from the world ofreality perceptible to the senses. Oh, no! He desired to show throughhis art the loftiest of ideals. How could he still shrink from using theliberty which he had formerly rejected, the liberty of drawing from hisown inner consciousness what he needed in order to bestow upon the idealimages he longed to create the grandeur, strength, and sublimity in whichhe beheld them rise before his purified soul!

Yet, with all this, he must remain faithful to truth, copy from Naturewhat he desired to represent. Every finger, every lock of hair, mustcorrespond with reality to the minutest detail, and yet the whole must bepervaded and penetrated, as the blood flows through the body, by thethought that filled his mind and soul. 

A reflected image of the ideal and of his own mood, faithful to truth, free, and yet obedient to the demands of moderation--in this sentenceHermon summed up the result of his solitary meditations upon art andworks of art. Since he had found the gods again, he perceived that theMuse had confided to him a sacerdotal office. He intended to perform itsduties, and not only attract and please the beholder's eyes through hisworks, but elevate his heart and mind, as beauty, truth, grandeur, andeternity uplifted his own soul. He recognised in the tireless creativepower which keeps Nature ever new, fresh, and bewitching, the presence ofthe same deity whose rule manifested itself in the life of his own soul. 

So long as he denied its existence, he had recognised no being morepowerful than himself; now that he again felt insignificant beside it, he knew himself to be stronger than ever before, that the greatest of allpowers had become his ally. Now it was difficult for him to understandhow he could have turned away from the deity. As an artist he, too, wasa creator, and, while he believed those who considered the universe hadcome into existence of itself, instead of having been created, he hadrobbed himself of the most sublime model. Besides, the greatest charm ofhis noble profession was lost to him. Now he knew it, and was strivingtoward the goal attainable by the artist alone among mortals--to holdintercourse with the deity, and by creations full of its essence elevatethe world to its grandeur and beauty. 

One day, at the end of the second month of his stay in the desert, when the Amalekite woman removed the bandage, her boy, whose form hedistinguished as if through a veil, suddenly exclaimed: "The white coveron your eyes is melting! They are beginning to sparkle a little, andsoon they will be perfectly well, and you can carve the lion's head on mycane. "

Perhaps the artist might really have succeeded in doing so, but heforbade himself the attempt. 

He thought that the time for departure had now arrived, and anirresistible longing urged him back to the world and Daphne. 

But he could not resist the entreaties of the old sheik and his daughternot to risk what he had gained, so he continued to use the shade ofleaves, and allowed himself to be persuaded to defer his departure untilthe dimness which still prevented his seeing anything distinctly passedaway. 

True, the beautiful peace which he had enjoyed of late was over and, besides, anxiety for the dear ones in distant lands was constantlyincreasing. He had had no news of them for a long time, and when heimagined what fate might have overtaken Archias, and his daughter withhim, if he had been carried back to the enraged King in Alexandria, aterrible dread took possession of him, which scattered even joy in hiswonderful recovery to the four winds, and finally led him to theresolution to return to the world at any risk and devote himself tothose whose fate was nearer to his heart than his own weal and woe. 

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Forbidden the folly of spoiling the present by remorseTwo griefs always belong to one joy