Saronia Part 50

'Does he? Go, tell that reptile that should he put foot on board this ship to claim this woman, I will order my men to throw him into the sea, and drown him like a dog. Now begone!'

CHAPTER XLVII

PARTING

'Saronia,' said Lucius, 'thou art here. Come this way; thou art safe at last. Rest calmly as to the future. Whilst brave sailors may defend thee, no harm can come. I go on sh.o.r.e to fetch thy beloved Chios, and procure what is needed for thee, and thou shalt have attendance from that home wherein thou didst once reside. I am rejoiced to see thee.

Think not of the past, Saronia. The past is gone far behind, and thou must think only of the joys of the future--all stored up for thee. I am alone in this great wilderness, and thou shalt be unto me as a child, and Chios shall be my son.'

'And Chios, thou wilt bring him, n.o.ble Lucius, kind as thou art valiant?'

'Bring him, girl? Certainly! The ship would refuse her helm were the best man in Ephesus left behind. Retire within, and make thyself pleased with the apartments set aside for thee.'

Then did Lucius with a light heart move to the sh.o.r.e, and hastened to the studio that he might greet Chios, and bring him with him to join Saronia. He went quietly up the way between the lines of flowers, heard the gentle breathings of the winds through the trees, and the song of birds which knew not of sorrow fell upon his ear.

He knocked at the door, but no one came. 'Is he from home? I hope not.'

Then he gently opened the door, looked in, and an ominous silence fell around. Presently he walked within, saying, 'I shall explore this little place myself. It seems plain sailing, and needs not a pilot.' But, horror-stricken, he fell back a pace or two on seeing the body of Chios lying dead upon the floor, and beside him his mother, with her pale face looking up towards the azure and gold-starred ceiling (for Saronia had warned him of Endora's death).

For a moment Lucius was stricken as if a battle had gone against him.

Then, gaining courage, he advanced, and, touching the body gently, said:

'Chios, my boy, Chios, art thou really gone?'

But no voice came back to him, and he knew too well that the n.o.ble spirit had fled. His first thought was of Saronia. What would she think of him? What would she do?

Then he sped from that house of death to order burial of the mother and son upon the flower-crowned hill of Pion, and went his way, bowed down with grief.

When Lucius arrived on board, accompanied with maiden slaves carrying raiment, precious jewels, flowers and fruits for Saronia, he found her anxiously awaiting him, and she immediately asked for Chios.

'He cannot come to-night,' replied he. 'He makes preparations to leave, and will not finish in time to join us. Thou must rest to-night, and gain strength after all the exciting events which have transpired. Thou hast here now trusty attendants who will minister to thy utmost wish.

Rest thee to-night, child, and may the G.o.ds or thy G.o.d give thee sweet and pleasant dreams. Lucius will watch over thee, and the spirits of the good shield thee. Good-night, Saronia, and may to-morrow's sun rise full of joy for thee.'

Lucius knew full well that at early dawn the ship would sail. What could he do to break this awful news to her? Kill her he feared it would. If he remained another day he could not bring back the dead, and a question arose in his mind that, if Chios did not come next morning, Saronia at all hazards would refuse to proceed. He considered the position, and, having his crew on board and all prepared, he determined to cast adrift.

No, he could not do this. How could he face his daughter on the morrow without Chios? Would it not look like piracy to take her away? Could she believe otherwise than that it was all trickery? No; he must speak with her that very night. He knew the power of Saronia's mind, and it was best it should be done at once. He called one of the attendant slaves.

'Go, see if thy lady sleeps, and, if not, ask her permission for Lucius to speak with her.'

The girl came back and told him that Saronia sent word to Lucius saying she was too sorrowful to sleep, and would be happy to receive him.

Then, for the first time in his life, the courage of the hardy sailor forsook him, and he moved forward tremblingly.

'Good friend,' said she, 'in the hour of distress thou wouldst speak with Saronia?'

'Yes, but my heart is too full.'

'Say on. I may even comfort thee, although I myself am sad; but, stay, here is a little packet Chios gave me for thee. It is sealed. Perhaps it may be of great interest. Methinks it is, or Chios would not have sent it.'

He took it from her, broke open the seals, and read it, saying:

'It is all true. Thank the G.o.ds, she is safe at last, and where recompense may be made. Saronia, thou knowest of thy mother?'

'Yes.'

'And thou also knowest of thy father? He forsook her and thee.'

'Yes.'

'Thou didst not know him?'

'No, good sire.'

'Couldst thou forgive him, Saronia? Couldst thou forgive him, if he sought forgiveness?'

'Yea, for "mercy endureth for ever."'

'Then let Lucius kiss his child!'

'Art thou my father?'

'I am. Read this parchment which thou hast brought from the hands of Chios. It tells its own story.'

'Ah! now I see it all, and my life is no longer a mystery. Driven, as I have been, through a perilous maze of fate, I am on the verge of a brighter existence. It is well, father, we have met before I part from thee, perhaps for ever.'

'What dost thou mean, child?'

'I scarcely know, but a great vision stretches out into the future, a great life spreads out before me, but it is not an earth-life. This spirit of mine seems to be preparing to quit this form of clay; as a voyager standing on the strand ready to start on a long voyage, so stands my spirit.'

'Oh, Saronia, do not speak thus! Nothing ails thee. Thou art young, lovely, and in the bloom of life, and must not give way to such forebodings. Rest now with thine aged father awhile; bear him company until he sails into the great distance, casts anchor, furls sails, in a peaceful haven.'

'Would that I could! But our time here is limited to the beating of one heart's throb; and, as I have already said, my spirit, which is myself, stands ready to put out the lamp and leave. Where is Chios, father? Why is he not here? Where is my n.o.ble love? He is away, but yet I feel his presence near me. What does this mean, father? My sight grows dim, my breath fails me; too well I know the spirit's presence. Chios is dead, is he not? He is! He calls from beyond his body! Where does his body lie? Tell me! Tell me quickly, father! Thou wilt act the better part by letting me know all. Where is he? Speak, by the love thou bearest for thy only child! Where is Chios?'

'Oh, Saronia, why wouldst thou know? Thou wilt see him soon.'

'Yes; I shall see him soon;' and she fell back motionless.

Lucius raised her up and called a.s.sistance. After awhile she rallied, and looked up into the face of her father, saying:

'Kiss me, dearest one. It is well that Chios should have left first. We cannot remain apart; the great circle of our affinity will soon be completed. Watch over Saronia. It will soon end.'

The mighty fleet prepared to leave the port of Ephesus. One by one they left the harbour, entered the ca.n.a.l which led to the sea, and, as they cleared the harbour mouth, ranged into two squadrons, one on either side of the entrance; and when the last came out, which bore the flag of Lucius, they formed into two great lines, with the flagship in the rear.