'You would, would you? And if I brought you to her, what then! What if she were Pelagia herself, what then? She is happy enough now, and rich enough. Could you make her happier or richer?'

'Can you ask? I must-I will-reclaim her from the infamy in which I am sure she lives.'

'Ah ha, sir monk! I expected as much. I know, none knows better, what those fine words mean. The burnt child dreads the fire; but the burnt old woman quenches it, you will find. Now listen. I do not say that you shall not see her-I do not say that Pelagia herself is not the woman whom you seek-but-you are in my power. Don't frown and pout. I can deliver you as a slave to a.r.s.enius when I choose. One word from me to Orestes, and you are in fetters as a fugitive.'

'I will escape!' cried he fiercely.

'Escape me?'-She laughed, pointing to the teraph-'Me, who, if you fled beyond Kaf, or dived to the depths of the ocean, could make these dead lips confess where you were, and command demons to bear you back to me upon their wings! Escape me! Better to obey me, and see your sister.'

Philammon shuddered, and submitted. The spell of the woman's eye, the terror of her words, which he half believed, and the agony of longing, conquered him, and he gasped out-

'I will obey you-only-only-'

'Only you are not quite a man yet, but half a monk still, eh? I must know that before I help you, my pretty boy. Are you a monk still, or a man?'

'What do you mean?'

'Ah, ha, ha!' laughed she shrilly. 'And these Christian dogs don't know what a man means? Are you a monk, then? leaving the man alone, as above your understanding.'

'I?-I am a student of philosophy.'

'But no man?'

'I am a man, I suppose.'

'I don't; if you had been, you would have been making love like a man to that heathen woman many a month ago.'

'I-to her?'

'Yes, I-to her!'Said Miriam, coa.r.s.ely imitating his tone of shocked humility. 'I, the poor penniless boy-scholar, to her, the great, rich, wise, worshipped she-philosopher, who holds the sacred keys of the inner shrine of the east wind-and just because I am a man, and the handsomest man in Alexandria, and she a woman, and the vainest woman in Alexandria; and therefore I am stronger than she, and can twist her round my finger, and bring her to her knees at my feet when I like, as soon I open my eyes, and discover that I am a man. Eh, boy! Did she ever teach you that among her mathematics and metaphysics, and G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses?'

Philammon stood blushing scarlet. The sweet poison had entered, and every vein glowed with it for the first time in his life. Miriam saw her advantage.

'There, there-don't be frightened at your new lesson. After all, I liked you from the first moment I saw you, and asked the teraph about you, and I got an answer-such an answer! You shall know it some day. At all events, it set the poor old soft-hearted Jewess on throwing away her money. Did you ever guess from whom your monthly gold piece came?'

Philammon started, and Miriam burst into loud, shrill laughter.

'From Hypatia, I'll warrant! From the fair Greek woman, of course-vain child that you are-never thinking of the poor old Jewess.'

'And did you? did you?' gasped Philammon.

'Have I to thank you, then, for that strange generosity?'

'Not to thank me, but to obey me; for mind, I can prove your debt to me, every obol, and claim it if I choose. But don't fear; I won't be hard on you, just because you are in my power. I hate every one who is not so. As soon as I have a hold on them, I begin to love them. Old folks, like children, are fond of their own playthings.'

'And I am yours, then?' said Philammon fiercely.

'You are indeed, my beautiful boy,' answered she, looking up with so insinuating a smile that he could not be angry. 'After all, I know how to toss my b.a.l.l.s gently-and for these forty years I have only lived to make young folks happy; so you need not be afraid of the poor soft-hearted old woman. Now-you saved Orestes's life yesterday.'

'How did you find out that?'

'I? I know everything. I know what the swallows say when they pa.s.s each other on the wing, and what the fishes think of in the summer sea. You, too, will be able to guess some day, without the teraph's help. But in the mean time you must enter Orestes's service. Why?-What are you hesitating about? Do you not know that you are high in his favour? He will make you secretary-raise you to be chamberlain some day, if you know how to make good use of your fortune.'

Philammon stood in astonished silence; and at last-

'Servant to that man? What care I for him or his honours? Why do you tantalise me thus? I have no wish on earth but to see my sister!'

'You will be far more likely to see her if you belong to the court of a great officer-perhaps more than an officer-than if you remain a penniless monk. Not that I believe you. Your only wish on earth, eh? Do you not care, then, ever to see the fair Hypatia again?'

'I? Why should I not see her? Am I not her pupil?'

'She will not have pupils much longer, my child. If you wish to hear her wisdom-and much good may it do you-you must go for it henceforth somewhat nearer to Orestes's palace than the lecture-room is. Ah! you start. Have I found you an argument now? No-ask no questions. I explain nothing to monks. But take these letters; to-morrow morning at the third hour go to Orestes's palace, and ask for his secretary, Ethan the Chaldee. Say boldly that you bring important news of state; and then follow your star: it is a fairer one than you fancy. Go! obey me, or you see no sister.'

Philammon felt himself trapped; but, after all, what might not this strange woman do for him? It seemed, if not his only path, still his nearest path to Pelagia; and in the meanwhile he was in the hag's power, and he must submit to his fate; so he took the letters and went out.

'And so you think that you are going to have her?' chuckled Miriam to herself, when Philammon went out. 'To make a penitent of her, eh?-a nun, or a she-hermit; to set her to appease your G.o.d by crawling on all fours among the mummies for twenty years, with a chain round her neck and a clog at her ankle, fancying herself all the while the bride of the Nazarene? And you think that old Miriam is going to give her up to you for that? No, no, sir monk! Better she were dead!.... Follow your dainty bait!-follow it, as the donkey does the gra.s.s which his driver offers him, always an inch from his nose.... You in my power!-and Orestes in my power!.... I must negotiate that new loan to-morrow, I suppose.... I shall never be paid. The dog will ruin me, after all! How much is it, now? Let me see.'.... And she began fumbling in her escritoire, over bonds and notes of hand. 'I shall never be paid: but power!-to have power! To see those heathen slaves and Christian hounds plotting and vapouring, and fancying themselves the masters of the world, and never dreaming that we are pulling the strings, and that they are our puppets!-we, the children of the promises-we, The Nation-we, the seed of Abraham! Poor fools! I could almost pity them, as I think of their faces when Messiah comes, and they find out who were the true lords of the world, after all!....He must be the Emperor of the South, though, that Orestes; he must, though I have to lend him Raphael's jewels to make him so. For he must marry the Greek woman. He shall. She hates him, of course.... So much the deeper revenge for me. And she loves that monk. I saw it in her eyes there in the garden. So much the better for me, too. He will dangle willingly enough at Orestes's heels for the sake of being near her-poor fool! We will make him secretary, or chamberlain. He has wit enough for it, they say, or for anything. So Orestes and he shall be the two jaws of my pincers, to squeeze what I want out of that Greek Jezebel.. And then, then for the black agate!'

Was the end of her speech a bathos? Perhaps not; for as she spoke the last word, she drew from her bosom, where it hung round her neck by a chain, a broken talisman, exactly similar to the one which she coveted so fiercely, and looked at it long and lovingly-kissed it-wept over it-spoke to it-fondled it in her arms as a mother would a child-murmured over it s.n.a.t.c.hes of lullabies; and her grim, withered features grew softer, purer, grander; and rose enn.o.bled, for a moment, to their long-lost might-have-been, to that personal ideal which every soul brings with it into the world, which shines, dim and potential, in the face of every sleeping babe, before it has been scarred, and distorted, and encrusted in the long tragedy of life. Sorceress she was, pander and slave-dealer, steeped to the lips in falsehood, ferocity, and avarice; yet that paltry stone brought home to her some thought, true, spiritual, impalpable, unmarketable, before which all her treasures and all her ambition were as worthless in her own eyes as they were in the eyes of the angels of G.o.d.

But little did Miriam think that at the same moment a brawny, clownish monk was standing in Cyril's private chamber, and, indulged with the special honour of a cup of good wine in the patriarch's very presence, was telling to him and a.r.s.enius the following history-

'So I, finding that the Jews had chartered this pirate-ship, went to the master thereof, and finding favour in his eyes, hired myself to row therein, being sure, from what I had overheard from the Jews, that she was destined to bring the news to Alexandria as quickly as possible. Therefore, fulfilling the work which his Holiness had entrusted to my incapacity, I embarked, and rowed continually among the rest; and being unskilled in such labour, received many curses and stripes in the cause of the Church-the which I trust are laid to my account hereafter. Moreover, Satan entered into me, desiring to slay me, and almost tore me asunder, so that I vomited much, and loathed all manner of meat. Nevertheless, I rowed on valiantly, being such as I am, vomiting continually, till the heathens were moved with wonder, and forbore to beat me, giving me strong liquors in pity; wherefore I rowed all the more valiantly day and night, trusting that by my unworthiness the cause of the Catholic Church might be in some slight wise a.s.sisted.'

'And so it is,' quoth Cyril. 'Why do you not sit down, man?'

'Pardon me,' quoth the monk, with a piteous gesture; 'of sitting, as of all carnal pleasure, cometh satiety at the last.'

'And now' said Cyril, 'what reward am I to give you for your good service?'

'It is reward enough to know that I have done good service. Nevertheless if the holy patriarch be so inclined without reason, there is an ancient Christian, my mother according to the flesh-'

'Come to me to-morrow, and she shall be well seen to. And mind-look to it, if I make you not a deacon of the city when I promote Peter.'

The monk kissed his superior's hand and withdrew. Cyril turned to a.r.s.enius, betrayed for once into geniality by his delight, and smiting his thigh-

'We have beaten the heathen for once, eh?' And then, in the usual artificial tone of an ecclesiastic-'And what would my father recommend in furtherance of the advantage so mercifully thrown into our hand?'

a.r.s.enius was silent.

'I,' went on Cyril, 'should be inclined to announce the news this very night, in my sermon.'

a.r.s.enius shook his head.

'Why not? why not?' asked Cyril impatiently.

'Better to keep it secret till others tell it. Reserved knowledge is always reserved strength; and if the man, as I hope he does not, intends evil to the Church, let him commit himself before you use your knowledge against him. True, you may have a scruple of conscience as to the lawfulness of allowing a sin which you might prevent. To me it seems that the sin lies in the will rather than in the deed, and that sometimes-I only say sometimes-it may be a means of saving the sinner to allow his root of iniquity to bear fruit, and fill him with his own devices.'

'Dangerous doctrine, my father.'