"A budding republican!" though Theos amusedly, as he pursued his course in the direction indicated. "That is how the 'liberty, equality, fraternity' system always begins--first among street-boys who think they ought to be gentlemen,--then among shopkeepers who persuade themselves that they deserve to be peers,--then comes a time of topsey-turveydom and fierce contention and by and by everything gets shaken together again in the form of a Republic, wherein the street-boys and shopkeepers are not a whit better off than they were under a monarchy--they become neither peers nor gentlemen, but stay exactly in their original places, with the disadvantage of finding their trade decidedly damaged by the change that has occurred in the national economy! Strange that the inhabitants of this world should make such a fuss about resisting tyranny and oppression, when each particular individual man, by custom and usage, tyrannizes over and oppresses his fellow-man to an extent that would be simply impossible to the fiercest kings!"

Thus meditating a few steps more brought him to the entrance of Sah-luma's princely abode,--the gates stood wide open, and a pleasant murmur of laughter and soft singing floated toward him across the splendid court where the great fountains were tossing up to the bright sky their straight, glistening columns of snowy spray. He listened,--and his heart leaped with an intense relief and joy,--Sah-luma, the beloved Sah-luma, was evidently at home and as yet unharmed,--these mirthful sounds betokened that all was well. The vague trouble and depression that had weighed upon his soul for hours now vanished completely, and hastening along, he sprang lightly up the marble stairs, and into the rainbow-colored, s.p.a.cious hall, where the first person he saw was Zabastes the Critic.

"Ah, good Zabastes!" he cried gayly,--"Where is thy master Sah-luma?

Has he returned in safety?"

"In safety?" croaked Zabastes with an accent of ironic surprise.. "To be sure! ... Is he a baby in swaddling-clothes that he cannot be trusted out alone to take care of himself? In safety?--aye! I warrant you he is safe enough, and silly enough, and lazy enough to please any one of his idiot flatterers, . . moreover my 'master!"--and he emphasized this word with indescribable bitterness--"hath slept as soundly as a swine, and hath duly bathed with the punctiliousness of a conceited swan, and being suitably combed, perfumed, attired, and throned as becomes his dainty puppetship, is now condescending to partake of vulgar food in the seclusion of his own apartment. Go thither and you shall find his verse-stringing Mightiness n.o.bly enshrined as a G.o.d among a worshipping crowd of witless maidens,--he hath inquired for you many times, which is somewhat of a wonder, seeing that as a rule he concerns his mind with naught save himself!

Furthermore, he is graciously pleased to be in a manner solicitous on behalf of the maiden Niphrata, who hath suddenly disappeared from the household, leaving no message to explain the cause of her evanishment.

Hath seen her? ... No?"--and the old man thumped his stick petulantly on the floor as Theos shook his head in the negative--"'Tis the only feminine creature I ever had patience to speak with,--a modest wench and a gentle one, and were it not for her idolatrous adoration of Sah-luma, she would be fairly sensible withal. No matter!--she has gone; everything goes, even good women, and nothing lasts save folly, of which there shall surely never be an end!"

Here apparently conscious that he had shown more feeling in speaking of Niphrata than was usual with him, he looked up impatiently and waved his staff toward Sah-luma's study; "In, in, boy! In, to, the Chief of poets and prince of egotists! He waits your service,--he is all agape and thirsty for more flattery and delicate cajolement, ... stuff him with praise, good youth! ... and who knows but a portion of his mantle may descend on YOU hereafter and make of YOU as conceited and pretty a bantling bard for the glory of proud posterity!"

And chuckling audibly, he hobbled down a side pa.s.sage, while Theos, half angry, half amused, crossed the hall quickly, and arrived at the door of the Laureate's private sanctum, where, gently drawing aside the silken draperies, he looked in for a moment without being himself perceived. What a picture he beheld! ... How perfection every shade of color in every line of detail! Sah-luma, reclining in a quaintly carved ebony chair, was toying with the fruit and wine set out before him on an ivory and gold stand,--his dress, simpler than it had been on the previous evening, was of fine white linen gathered loosely about his cla.s.sic figure,--he wore neither myrtle-wreath nor jewels,--the expression of his face was serious, even n.o.ble, and his att.i.tude was one of languid grace and unstudied ease that became him infinitely well. The maidens of his household waited near him,--some of them held flowers,--one, kneeling at a small lyre, seemed just about to strike a few chords, when Sah-luma silenced her by a light gesture:

"Peace, Zoralin!" he said softly.. "I cannot listen: thou hast not my Niphrata's tenderness!"

Zoralin, a beautiful, dark girl, with hair as black as night, and eyes that looked as though they held suppressed yet ever burning fire, let her hands instantly drop from the instrument, and sighing, shrank back a little in abashed silence. At that moment Theos advanced,--and the Laureate sprang up delightedly:

"Ah, at last, my friend!" he cried, enthusiastically clasping him by both hands,--"Where, in the name of all the G.o.ds, hast thou been roaming? How did we part?--by my soul I forget!--but no matter!--thou art here once more, and as I live, we will not separate again so easily! My n.o.ble Theos!" and he threw one arm affectionately around his neck--"I have missed thee more than I can tell these past few hours,--thou dost seem so sympathetically conjoined with me, that verily I think I am but half myself in thine absence! Come,--sit thee down and break thy fast! ... I almost feared thou hadst met with some mischance on thy way hither, and that I should have had to sally forth and rescue thee again even as I did yesternoon! Say, hast thou occupied thyself with so much friendly consideration on my behalf, as I have on thine?"

He laughed gayly as he spoke,--and Theos, looking into his bright, beautiful face, was for a moment too deeply moved by his own strange inward emotions, to utter a word in reply. WHY did he love Sah-luma so ardently, he wondered? WHY was it that every smile on that proud mouth, every glance of those flashing eyes, possessed such singular, overwhelming fascination for him? He could not tell,--but he readily yielded to the magic influence of his friend's extraordinary attractiveness, and sitting down beside him in the azure light and soft fragrance of his regal apartment, he experienced a sudden sense of rest, satisfaction, and completeness, such as may be felt by a man AT ONE WITH HIMSELF, and with all the world!

CHAPTER XXII.

WASTED Pa.s.sION.

The a.s.sembled maidens had retired modestly into the background, while the Laureate had thus joyously greeted his returned guest; but now, at a signal from their lord, they again advanced, and taking up the glittering dishes of fruit and the flasks of wine, proffered them in turn to Theos with much deferential grace and courtesy. He was by no means slow in responding to the humble attentions of these fair ones, .

. there was a sort of deliciously dreamy enchantment in being waited upon by such exquisitely lovely creatures! The pa.s.sing touch of their little white hands that supported the heavy golden salvers seemed to add new savor to the luscious fare,--the timorous fire of their downcast eyes, softly sparkling through the veil of their long lashes, gave extra warmth to the ambrosial wine,--and he could not refrain from occasionally whispering a tender flattery or delicate compliment in the ear of one or other of his sylph-like servitors, though they all appeared curiously unmoved by his choicely worded adulation. Now and then a pale, flickering blush or sudden smile brightened their faces, but for the most part they maintained a demure and serious demeanor, as though possessed by the very spirit of invincible reserve. With Sah-luma it was otherwise,--they hovered about him like b.u.t.terflies round a rose,--a thousand wistful, pa.s.sionate glances darted upon him, when he, unconscious or indifferent, apparently saw nothing,--many a deep, involuntary sigh was stifled quickly ere it could escape between the rosy lips whose duty it was to wreathe themselves with smiles, and Theos noticing these things thought:

"Heavens! how this man is loved!--and yet ... he, out of all men, is perhaps the most ignorant of Love's true meaning!"

Scarcely had this reflection entered his mind than he became bitterly angry with himself for having indulged in it. How recreant, how base an idea! ... how incompatible with the adoring homage he felt for his friend! What!--Sah-luma,--a Poet, whose songs of Love were so perfect, so wildly sweet and soul-entrancing--HE, to be ignorant of Love's true meaning? ... Oh, impossible!--and a burning flush of shame rose to Theos's brow,--shame that he could have entertained such a blasphemy against his Idol for a moment! Then that curious, vague, soft contrition he had before experienced stole over him once again--a sudden moisture filled his eyes,--and turning abruptly toward his host he held out his own just filled goblet:

"Drink we the loving-cup together, Sah-luma!" he said, and his voice trembled a little with its own deep tenderness, . . "Pledge me thy faith as I do pledge thee mine! And for to-day at least let me enjoy thy boon companionship, . . who knows how soon we may be forced to part ... forever!" And he breathed the last word softly with a faint sigh.

Sah-luma looked at him with an expressive glance of bright surprise.

"Part?" he exclaimed joyously--"Nay, not we, my friend! ... Not till we find each other tiresome, . . not till we prove that our spirits, like over-mettlesome steeds, do chafe and fret one another too rudely in the harness of custom, . . wherefore then, and then only, 'twill be time to break loose at a gallop, and seek each one a wider pasture-land!

Meanwhile, here's to thee!"--and bending his handsome head he readily drank a deep draught of the proffered wine.. "May all the G.o.ds hold fast our bond of friendship!"

And with a graceful salute he returned the jewelled cup half-empty.

Theos at once drained off what yet remained within it, and then, leaning more confidentially over the Laureate's chair, he whispered:

"Hast thou in very truth forgotten thy rashness of last night, Sah-luma? Surely thou must guess how unquiet I have been concerning thee! Tell me, . . was thy hot pursuit in vain? ... or.. didst thou discover the King?"

"Peace!" and a quick frown darkened the smooth beauty of Sah-luma's face as he grasped Theos's arm hard to warn him into silence,--then forcing a smile he answered in the same low tone.. "'Twas not the King, . . it could not be! Thou wert mistaken ..."

"Nay but," persisted Theos gently--"convince me of mine error! Didst thou overtake and steadily confront yon armed and m.u.f.fled stranger?"

"Not I!"--and Sah-luma shrugged his shoulders petulantly--"Sleep fell upon me suddenly when I left thee,--and methinks I must have wandered home like a shadow in a dream! Was I not drunk last night?--Aye!--and so in all likelihood wert thou! ... little could we be trusted to recognize either King or clown!"--He laughed,--then added--"Nevertheless I tell thee once again 'twas not the King, . . His Majesty hath too much at stake, to risk so dangerous a pleasantry!"

Theos heard, but he was dissatisfied and ill at ease, . . Sah-luma's careless contentment increased his own disquietude. Just then a curious-looking personage entered the apartment,--a gray-haired, dwarfish negro, who carried slung across his back a large bundle, consisting of several neatly rolled-up pieces of linen, one of which he presently detached from the rest and set down before the Laureate, who in return gave him a silver coin, at the same time asking jestingly:

"Is the news worth paying for to-day, Zibya?--or is it the same ill-written, clumsy chronicle of trumpery, common-place events?"

Zibya, slipping the coin he had received into a wide leathern pouch which hung from his girdle, appeared to meditate a moment,--then he replied:

"If the truth must be told, most ill.u.s.trious, there is nothing whatever to interest the minds of the cultured. The cheap scribes of the Daily Circular cater chiefly for the mob, and do all in their power to foster morbid qualities of disposition and murderous tendencies among the lower orders; hence though there is nothing in the news-sheet pertaining to Literature or the Fine Arts, there is much concerning the sudden death of the young sculptor Nir-jalis, whose body was found flung on the banks of the river this morning."

Theos started, . . Sah-luma listened with placid indifference. "'Tis a case of self-slaughter"--pursued Zibya chattily.. "or so say the wise writers who are supposed to know everything, . . self-slaughter committed during a state of temporary insanity! Well, well! I myself would have had a different opinion."

"And a sagacious one no doubt!" interrupted Sah-luma coldly, and with a dangerous flash as of steel in his eyes.. "But.. be advised, good Zibya! ... give thine opinion no utterance!"

The old negro shrank back nervously, making numerous apologetic gestures, and waited in abashed silence till the Laureate's features regained their wonted soft serenity. Then he ventured to speak again,--though not without a little hesitation.

"Concerning the topics of the hour..." he murmured timorously.. "My lord is perhaps not aware that the river itself is a subject of much excited discussion,--the water having changed to a marvellous blood-color during the night, which singular circ.u.mstance hath caused a great panic among the populace. Even now, as I pa.s.sed by the embankment, the crowd there was thick as a hive of swarming bees!"

He paused, but Sah-luma made no remark, and he continued more glibly, "Also, to-day's 'Circular' contains the full statement of the King's reward for the capture of the Prophet Khosrul, and the formal Programme of the Sacrificial Ceremonial announced to take place this evening in the Temple of Nagaya. All is set forth in the fine words of the petty public scribes, who needs must make as much as possible out of little,--and there is likewise a so-called facsimile of the King's signature, which will naturally be of supreme interest to the vulgar.

Furthermore it is proclaimed that a grand Combat of wild beasts in the Royal Arena will follow immediately after the Service in the Temple is concluded,--methinks none will go to bed early, seeing there is so full a list of amus.e.m.e.nts!"

He paused again, somewhat out of breath,--and Sah-luma meanwhile unrolled the linen scroll he had purchased, which measured about twenty-four inches in length and twenty in width. Carefully ruled black and red lines divided it into nearly the same number of columns as those on the page of an ordinary newspaper, and it was covered with close writing, here and there embellished by bold, profusely ornamented headings. One of these, "Death of the Sculptor, Nir-jalis," seemed to burn into Theos's brain like letters of fire,--how was it, he wondered, that the body of that unfortunate victim had been found on the sh.o.r.e of the river, when he himself had seen it loaded with iron weights, and cast into the lake that formed part of Lysia's fatal garden? Presently Sah-luma pa.s.sed the scroll to him with a smile, saying lightly:

"There, my friend, is a specimen of the true mob-literature! ...

written to-day, forgotten to-morrow! 'Tis a droll thing to meditate upon, the ephemeral nature of all this pouring-out of unnecessary words and stale stock-phrases!--and, wouldst thou believe it, Theos! each little paid scribe that adds his poor quota to this ill-a.s.sorted trash deems himself wiser and greater far than any poet or philosopher dead or living! Why, in this very news-sheet I have seen the immortal works of the divine Hyspiros so hacked by the blunt knives of ignorant and vulgar criticism that, by my faith! ... were it not for contempt, one would be disposed to nail the hands of such trumpery scribblers to a post, and scourge their bare backs with th.o.r.n.y rods to cure them of their insolence! Nay, even my fool Zabastes hath found place in these narrow columns, to write his carping diatribes against me,--me, the King's Laureate! ... As I live, his c.u.mbersome diction hath caused me infinite mirth, and I have laughed at his crabbed and feeble wit till my sides have ached most potently! Now get thee gone, fellow!--thou and thy news!"--and he nodded a good-humored dismissal to the deferential Zibya, who with his woolly gray head very much on one side stood listening gravely and approvingly to all that was said,--"Yet stay!

... has gossip whispered thee the name of the poor virgin self-destined for this evening's sacrifice?"

"No, my lord"--responded Zibya promptly--"'Tis veiled in deeper mystery than usual. I have inquired of many, but in vain,--and even the Chief Flamen of the Outside Court of the Temple, always drunk and garrulous as he is, can tell me naught of the holy victim's t.i.tle or parentage.

'Tis a pa.s.sing fair wench!' said he, with a chuckle.. 'That is all I know concerning her ... a pa.s.sing fair wench!' Ah!" and Zibya rolled up the whites of his eyes and sighed in a comically contemplative manner..

"If ever a Flamen deserved expulsion from his office, it is surely yon ancient, crafty, carnal-minded soul! ... so keen a glance for a woman's beauty is not a needful qualification for a servant of the Snake Divine! Methinks we have fallen upon evil days! ... maybe the crazed Prophet is right after all, and things are coming to an end!"

"Like thy discourse, I hope, Zibya!" observed Sah-luma, yawning and flinging himself lazily back on his velvet couch,--"Get hence, and serve thy customers with their cheap news, . . depend upon it, some of them are cursing thee mightily for thy delay! And if thou shouldst chance to meet the singing-maiden of my household, Niphrata, bid her make haste homeward,--she hath been absent since the break of morn,--too long for my contentment. Maybe I did unwisely to give the child her freedom,--as slave she would not have presumed to gad abroad thus wantonly, without her lord's permission. Say, if thou seest her, that I am wrathful,--the thought of mine anger will be as a swift wing to waft her hither like a trembling dove,--afraid, all penitent, and eager for my pardon! Remember! ... be sure thou tell her of my deep displeasure!"

Zibya bowed profoundly, his outspread hands almost touching the floor in the servility of his obeisance, and backed out of the room as humbly as though he were leaving the presence of royalty. When he had gone, Theos looked up from the news-scroll he was perusing:

"Is it not strange Niphrata should have left thee thus, Sah-luma?".. he said with a touch of anxiety in his tone ... "Maybe".. and he hesitated, conscious of a strange, unbidden remorse that suddenly and without any apparent reason overwhelmed his conscience.. "Maybe she was not happy?"...

"Not happy!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Sah-luma amazedly, "Not happy with ME? ... not happy in MY house,--protected by MY patronage? Where then, if not here, could she find happiness?"

And his beautiful flashing eyes betokened his entire and naive astonishment at the mere supposition. Theos smiled involuntarily.. how, charming, after all was Sah-luma's sublime egotism!--how almost child-like was his confidence in himself and his own ability to engender joy! All at once the young girl Zoralin spoke,--her accents were low and timorous:

"May it please my lord Sah-luma to hear me..." she said and paused.

"Thy lord Sah-luma hears thee with pleasure, Zoralin," replied the Laureate gently. "Thou dost speak more sweetly than many a bird doth sing!"