Saronia Part 20

'Nonsense, woman! cease thy prattling! Thou hast drunk the Samian wine--thou art weak to-night. We will abjure. Eh? By Solomon! who left us incantations stronger than thine.'

Sceva said: 'Set a basin full of water on the floor. It shall be upturned by unseen hands, that we may be a.s.sured of the departure of the demons.'

Then, drawing from the folds of his dress a blood stone ring, he placed it near the nostrils of the demoniac, commanding the legion to come out of him, chanting:

'By the Jewish altar throne, By the temple at fair Salem, By the rites of Solomon, By the sovereign power of Judah, Children loved by G.o.d of G.o.ds, Come ye forth, ye fiends rebellious, Hasten with the waning hour Back to h.e.l.l, your endless house!'

Still the look of Samo was one of blank despair. No voice came from him, no paroxysms, no falling to the ground, and the water was unspilt.

Then the men gazed at each other, and Endora said with her sardonic smile:

'What ails the G.o.ds to-night? They are powerless, and ye also have drunk the Samian wine.'

'No, we will not yield,' said Sceva. 'Now for the test! Let us adjure by this Jesus whom the wandering Paul preaches, and, by Heaven, we will use the cross.'

Rushing forward, he seized it and held the emblem before the man.

Endora cried out: 'Stay! stay! Do it not! I see one by it who looks like a G.o.d!'

But Sceva said, 'Nay!' and cried out:

'We, the holders of this symbol, Bid you by the name of Jesus Come ye forth, and ever be so While eternal ages roll!'

Then a voice came forth from Samo, 'Jesus I know, but who are ye?' and with the wild frenzy of madness he rushed upon them, tearing their garments to pieces until they fled the cave and down the steep sides of Mount Pion towards the city.

The poor demoniac had clutched the radiant cross, and fell with it to the ground. As he pressed it to his lips, a joyous smile swept over his face. He was changed. The tempest-tossed soul was riding at anchor in a haven of calm, and the weary spirit shone with glorious sheen.

Endora had fled with the rest. She hid herself behind some black poplars until the freed man departed. Then she crept back to her cave, and found utter confusion reigning. Things were soon put straight, for she had few luxuries.

She sat down meditating on those pa.s.sing strange events. Suddenly she started, crying, 'The Cross! the Cross!' and springing forward, she grasped it, broke it to pieces, and flung it from the cave.

'No good can come to me whilst it remains within. It represents not Hecate--of that I am sure.'

Then she sat down again, like a spider in its den, trusting some visitors might come to consult and bring her gain, for the night was clear and the stars shone out like children of the sun.

CHAPTER XXII

THE LOVE-PHILTRE

'Foiled am I on every hand.

'First, cursed by a slave once my slave, and she now the Queen Priestess of the Asian people, with myriads at her feet!

'That is not all. She has refused to aid me, even when Chios pleads for me, and he--what of him? The only man I ever loved, or ever shall, turns from my love and pities me. Curse the pity! Is it come to this, that I, a high-born Roman of the Romans, seek shelter from an unknown slave, and beg for love from a Greek, and be refused? No, no, Nika! Thou must arouse thyself, and thou shalt.

'What I cannot gain by pleadings shall be sought for otherwise. I will not be foiled. I will not die, and mix with every common dust borne hither and thither by the wanton breeze. Again I say no, it shall not be!

'Well then, Nika, bold girl, what wilt thou do? Let me think.

'Of one thing I am certain. Chios loves Saronia. Who knows but that she loves Chios? Of this I am not quite sure. No mortal knows the mind of that strange being. Ah! shall I say that she loves clandestinely and meets her lover?--whirl an arrow barbed perchance with lies and bring her down? That will be revenge, but I may in some way implicate Chios, and, besides, if I cannot prove my saying, I encounter death.

'No, this is too wild. Cease thy flutterings, vain spirit mine! Oh that I had proof of such a thing! Then would I rush to the world, proclaim her fallen, and gloat over her wretchedness. It may come--who can say?

But, for the present, I have another course that will strike home--I will do my utmost to bring Chios to my love, and wound to death Saronia.

'I will seek the witch of Ephesus, Endora, and consult her. She will help me, for--gold. I will buy from her the costliest charms. She shall brew, doubly brew a philtre of love, strong enough to warm the icy Chios were he ten times colder than the snows on Tmolus. Neither will I lose time. I will meet her to-night. She lives in a darksome cave on the Temple side of Pion, and nothing shall daunt me, for, as soon as the veil of night is drawn, I will robe myself with courage, and go forth, fearing neither the howling beasts nor the shadowy gloom of the lofty pines. No, though a phalanx of fiends from the depths bar my pa.s.sage, yet will I press forward like he who fights for life.'

When darkness enveloped the city and mountains, she stole forth from her home on the lofty Coressus, down the mountain way.

The sweet odours of the night-flowers blew gently against her cheeks.

She drew her purple mantle around her, and hastened on un.o.bserved.

As she pa.s.sed the studio gate of Chios, the nightingale sang to its mate, but a chill of horror shook her soul, for well she knew her way was evil.

Moving away, her spirits rose. She left the great road to ascend the side of Mount Pion. Her step was light, and without weariness she drew near the cave of Endora. For the first time fear possessed her. She saw the witch at the entrance. She had, however, gone too far to retract, neither did she want to do so.

Well knowing a girl's appearance in such a place at such an hour could point only to one intent, the woman addressed Nika:

'Tell me, lady, dost thou seek the witch?'

'Yes,' replied the girl, 'and thou art she.'

'Come within, pretty maiden, for the winds are chill and the night-hawks violent. Nay, stay a moment, do not enter now. I will light the lamp.'

As Endora entered she thought within her: 'This is Nika accursed of Hecate, the tyrant of Saronia, the lover of Chios. What darkness is abroad? What comes she for to-night? Shall I slay or play with her?

Revenge is toothsome to me. I have her in my power, and could square accounts for Saronia, but what, I wonder, would the priestess say?

Perhaps I should get blame or death for my work. So I will let her be, and will draw from her that which I know the dark girl of the Temple will not disdain to hear.

'Now then, Endora, do thy work well. Fear not the Roman lady, and a mine of wealth is thine. But what do I care for gold?'

Nika entered the cave, hewn directly out of the rock. An iron ring was driven into the roof, and a quaint old Phallic lamp hung down just clear of their heads; a winding fissure in the rock let out the smoke. A recess was in its inner part, and a time-worn curtain hid a pallet of corn-leaves. Two old chests, a few stools, a rude altar, cooking-pans, and some quaint trifles spread around made up the contents of the place.

'Sit thee down, lady. Compose thyself. Thou art safe, although the place looks stormy. What seekest thou?'

'To know my fate. I have heard thou art deeply skilled in magic, and I would know more than the present reveals.'

'Wouldst thou know all?'

'How far would it go?'

'To thy life's end--and beyond.'

'Tell me first. You know the old story. Shall I love? whom? when? and so on?'