A Thorny Path. Georg Ebers
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likely that the fierce brute belongs to the community whose friendship I am proud to claim; and, if it does, they will be as much grieved over the matter as we can be.”
“A Christian would never do another an ill turn!” said Heron, with a shrug.
“Never, so far as justice permits,” replied Andreas, decisively. Then he inquired whether Heron had any message or news to send to his son; and when the gem-cutter replied that he had not, the freedman was about to go. Melissa, however, detained him, saying:
“I will go with you if you will allow me.”
“And I?” said Heron, irritably. “It seems to me that children are learning to care less and less what their fathers’ views and requirements may be. I have to go to Philip. Who knows what may happen in my absence? Besides—no offense to you, Andreas—what concern has my daughter among the Christians?”
“To visit her lover,” replied Andreas, sharply. And he added, more quietly: “It will be a pleasure to me to escort her; and your Argutis is a faithful fellow, and in case of need would be of more use here than an inexperienced girl. I see no reasonable ground for detaining her, Heron. I should like afterwards to take her home with me, across the lake; it would be a comfort to Polybius and soothe his pain to have his favorite with him, his future daughter.—Get ready, my child.”
The artist had listened with growing anger, and a swift surge of rage made him long to give the freedman a sharp lesson. But when his glaring eye met the Christian’s steady, grave gaze, he controlled himself, and only said, with a shrug which sufficiently expressed his feeling that he was surrendering his veto against his better judgment, addressing himself to Melissa and ignoring Andreas:
“You are betrothed, and of age. Go, for aught I care, in obedience to him whose wishes evidently outweigh mine. Polybius’s son is your master henceforth.”
He folded his mantle, and when the girl hastened to help him he allowed her to do it; but he went on, to the freedman: “And for aught I care, you may take her across the lake, too. It is natural that Polybius should wish to see his future daughter. But one thing I may ask for myself: You have slaves and to spare; if anything happens to Alexander, let me hear of it at once.”
He kissed Melissa on the head, nodded patronizingly to Andreas, and left the house.
His soft-hearted devotion to a vision had weakened his combativeness; still, he would have yielded less readily to a man who had once been a slave, but that the invitation to Melissa released him of her presence for a while.
He was not, indeed, afraid of his daughter; but she need not know that he wanted Philip to make him acquainted with Serapion, and that through his mediation he hoped at least to see the spirit of the wife he mourned. When he was fairly out of the house he smiled with satisfaction like a school-boy who had escaped his master.
CHAPTER VII.
Melissa, too, had a sense of freedom when she found herself walking by the side of Andreas.
In the garden of Hermes, where her father’s house stood, there were few signs of the excitement with which the citizens awaited Caesar’s arrival. Most of those who were out and about were going in the opposite direction; they meant to await the grand reception of Caracalla at the eastern end of the city, on his way from the Kanopic Gate to the Gate of the Sun. Still, a good many—men, women and children—were, like themselves, walking westward, for it was known that Caesar would alight at the Serapeum.
They had scarcely left the house when Andreas asked the girl whether she had a kerchief or a veil in the basket the slave was carrying behind her; and on her replying in the affirmative, he expressed his satisfaction; for Caracalla’s soldiery, in consequence of the sovereign’s weakened discipline and reckless liberality, were little better than an unbridled rabble.
“Then let us keep out of their way,” urged Melissa.
“Certainly, as much as possible,” said her companion. “At any rate, let us hurry, so as to get back to the lake before the crowd stops the way.
“You have passed an eventful and anxious night, my child, and are tired, no doubt.”
“Oh, no!” said she, calmly; “I had some wine to refresh me, and some food with the Christians.”
“Then they received you kindly?”
“The only woman there nursed Diodoros like a mother; and the men were considerate and careful. My father does not know them; and yet—Well, you know how much he dislikes them.”
“He follows the multitude,” returned Andreas, “the common herd, who hate everything exceptional, everything that disturbs their round of life, or startles them out of the quietude of their dull dreams. Woe to those who call by its true name what those blind souls call pleasure and enjoyment as serving to hasten the flight of time—not too long at the most; woe to those who dare raise even a finger against it!”
The man’s deep, subdued tones were strongly expressive of the wrath within him; and the girl, who kept close to his side, asked with eager anxiety, “Then my father was right when he said that you are a member of the Christian body?”
“Yes,” he replied, emphatically; and when Melissa curiously inquired whether it were true that the followers of the crucified God had renounced their love for home and country, which yet ought to be dear to every true man, Andreas answered with a superior smile, that even the founder of the Stoa had required not only of his fellow-Greeks but of all human beings, that they should regulate their existence by the same laws, since they were brethren in reason and sense.
“He was right,” added Andreas, more earnestly, “and I tell you, child, the time is not far off when men shall no longer speak of Roman and Greek, of Egyptian and Syrian, of free men and slaves; when there shall be but one native land, but one class of life for all. Yea, the day is beginning to dawn even now. The fullness of the time is come!”
Melissa looked up at him in amazement, exclaiming: “How strange! I have heard those words once to-day already, and can not get them out of my head. Nay, when you confirmed my father’s report, I made up my mind to ask you to explain them.”
“What words?” asked Andreas, in surprise. “The fullness of the time is come.”
“And where did you hear them?”
“In the house where Diodoros and I took refuge from Zminis.”
“A Christian meeting-house,” replied Andreas, and his expressive face darkened. “But those who assemble there are aliens to me; they follow evil heresies. But never mind—they also call themselves Christians, and the words which led you to ponder, stand to me at the very gate of the doctrine of our divine master, like the obelisks before the door of an Egyptian temple. Paul, the great preacher of the faith, wrote them to the Galatians. They are easy to understand; nay, any one who looks about him with his eyes open, or searches his own soul, can scarcely fail to see their meaning, if only the desire is roused in him for something better than what these cursed times can give us who live in them.”
“Then it means that we are on the eve of great changes?”
“Yes!” cried Andreas, “only the word you use is too feeble. The old dull sun must set, to rise again with greater glory.”
Ill at ease, and by no means convinced, Melissa looked her excited companion in the face as she replied:
“Of course I know, Andreas, that you speak figuratively, for the sun which lights the day seems to me bright enough; and is not everything flourishing in this gay, busy city? Are not its citizens under the protection of the law? Were the gods ever more zealously worshiped? Is my father wrong when he says that it is a proud thing to belong to the mightiest realm on earth, before whose power barbarians tremble; a great thing to feel and call yourself a Roman citizen?”