Alroy - Part 45
Library

Part 45

'A moment, dear Alroy. I am no flatterer. What I said came from my heart, and doth concern us much and instantly. I was saying thou hast no common mind, Alroy; indeed thou hast a mind unlike all others. Listen, my Prince. Thou hast read mankind deeply and truly. Few have seen more than thyself, and none have so rare a spring of that intuitive knowledge of thy race, which is a gem to which experience is but a jeweller, and without which no action can befriend us.'

'Well, well!'

'A moment's calmness. Thou hast entered Bagdad in triumph, and thou hast entered the same city with every contumely which the base spirit of our race could cast upon its victim. 'Twas a great lesson.'

'I feel it so.'

'And teaches us how vile and valueless is the opinion of our fellow-men.'

'Alas! 'tis true.'

'I am glad to see thee in this wholesome temper. 'Tis full of wisdom.'

'The miserable are often wise.'

'But to believe is nothing unless we act. Speculation should only sharpen practice. The time hath come to prove thy l.u.s.ty faith in this philosophy. I told thee we could make terms. I have made them. To-morrow it was doomed Alroy should die--and what a death! A death of infinite torture! Hast ever seen a man impaled?'[81]

'Hah!'

'To view it is alone a doom.'

'G.o.d of Heaven!'

'It is so horrible, that 'tis ever marked, that when this direful ceremony occurs, the average deaths in cities greatly increase. 'Tis from the turning of the blood in the spectators, who yet from some ungovernable madness cannot refrain from hurrying to the scene. I speak with some authority. I speak as a physician.'

'Speak no more, I cannot endure it.'

'To-morrow this doom awaited thee. As for Schirene----'

'Not for her, oh! surely not for her?'

'No, they were merciful. She is a Caliph's daughter. 'Tis not forgotten.

The axe would close her life. Her fair neck would give slight trouble to the headsman's art. But for thy sister, but for Miriam, she is a witch, a Jewish witch! They would have burnt her alive!'

'I'll not believe it, no, no, I'll not believe it: d.a.m.nable, b.l.o.o.d.y demons! When I had power I spared all, all but----ah, me! ah, me! why did I live?'

'Thou dost forget thyself; I speak of that which was to have been, not of that which is to be. I have stepped in and communed with the conqueror. I have made terms.'

'What are they, what can they be?'

'Easy. To a philosopher like Alroy an idle ceremony.'

'Be brief, be brief.'

'Thou seest thy career is a great scandal to the Moslemin. I mark their weakness, and I have worked upon it. Thy mere defeat or death will not blot out the stain upon their standard and their faith. The public mind is wild with fantasies since Alroy rose. Men's opinions flit to and fro with that fearful change that bodes no stable settlement of states.

None know what to cling to, or where to place their trust. Creeds are doubted, authority disputed. They would gladly account for thy success by other than human means, yet must deny thy mission. There also is the fame of a fair and mighty Princess, a daughter of their Caliphs, which they would gladly clear. I mark all this, observe and work upon it. So, could we devise some means by which thy lingering followers could be for ever silenced, this great scandal fairly erased, and the public frame brought to a sounder and more tranquil pulse, why, they would concede much, much, very much.'

'Thy meaning, not thy means, are evident.'

'They are in thy power.'

'In mine? 'Tis a deep riddle. Pr'ythee solve it.'

'Thou wilt be summoned at to-morrow's noon before this Arslan. There in the presence of the a.s.sembled people who are now with him as much as they were with thee, thou wilt be accused of magic, and of intercourse with the infernal powers. Plead guilty.'

'Well! is there more?'

'Some trifle. They will then examine thee about the Princess. It is not difficult to confess that Alroy won the Caliph's daughter by an irresistible spell, and now 'tis broken.'

'So, so. Is that all?'

'The chief. Thou canst then address some phrases to the Hebrew prisoners, denying thy Divine mission, and so forth, to settle the public mind, observe, upon this point for ever.'

'Ay, ay, and then----?'

'No more, except for form. (Upon the completion of the conditions, mind, you will be conveyed to what land you please, with such amount of treasure as you choose.) There is no more, except, I say, for form, I would, if I were you ('twill be expected), I would just publicly affect to renounce our faith, and bow before their Prophet.'

'Hah! Art thou there? Is this thy freedom? Get thee behind me, tempter!

Never, never, never! Not a jot, not a jot: I'll not yield a jot. Were my doom one everlasting torture, I'd spurn thy terms! Is this thy high contempt of our poor kind, to outrage my G.o.d! to prove myself the vilest of the vile, and baser than the basest? Rare philosophy! O Honain! would we had never met!'

'Or never parted. True. Had my word been taken, Alroy would ne'er have been betrayed.'

'No more; I pray thee, sir, no more. Leave me.'

'Were this a palace, I would. Harsh words are softened by a friendly ear, when spoken in affliction.'

'Say what they will, I am the Lord's anointed. As such I should have lived, as such at least I'll die.'

'And Miriam?'

'The Lord will not desert her: she ne'er deserted Him.'

'Schirene?'

'Schirene! why! for her sake alone I will die a hero. Shall it be said she loved a craven slave, a base impostor, a vile renegade, a villainous dealer in drugs and charms? Oh! no, no, no! if only for her sake, her sweet, sweet sake, my end shall be like my great life. As the sun I rose, like him I set. Still the world is warm with my bright fame, and my last hour shall not disgrace my noon, stormy indeed, but glorious!'

Honain took the torch from the niche, and advanced to the grate. It was not fastened: he drew it gently open, and led forward a veiled and female figure. The veiled and female figure threw herself at the feet of Alroy, who seemed lost to what was pa.s.sing. A soft lip pressed his hand.

He started, his chains clanked.

'Alroy!' softly murmured the kneeling female.

'What voice is that?' wildly exclaimed the Prince of the Captivity. 'It falls upon my ear like long-forgotten music. I'll not believe it. No!

I'll not believe it. Art thou Schirene?'

'I am that wretched thing they called thy bride.'

'Oh! this indeed is torture! What impalement can equal this sharp moment? Look not on me, let not our eyes meet! They have met before, like to the confluence of two shining rivers blending in one great stream of rushing light. Bear off that torch, sir. Let impenetrable darkness cover our darker fortunes.'

'Alroy.'