THE WORLD'S DESIRE

by H. Rider Haggard and Andrew Lang

To

W. B. RICHMOND, A. R. A. 

PREFACE

The period in which the story of _The World's Desire_ is cast, was aperiod when, as Miss Braddon remarks of the age of the Plantagenets, "anything might happen. " Recent discoveries, mainly by Dr. Schliemannand Mr. Flinders Petrie, have shown that there really was muchintercourse between Heroic Greece, the Greece of the Achaeans, and theEgypt of the Ramessids. This connection, rumoured of in Greek legends, is attested by Egyptian relics found in the graves of Mycenae, and byvery ancient Levantine pottery, found in contemporary sites in Egypt. Homer himself shows us Odysseus telling a feigned, but obviously notimprobable, tale of an Achaean raid on Egypt. Meanwhile the sojourn ofthe Israelites, with their Exodus from the land of bondage, though notyet found to be recorded on the Egyptian monuments, was probably part ofthe great contemporary stir among the peoples. These events, which areonly known through Hebrew texts, must have worn a very different aspectin the eyes of Egyptians, and of pre-historic Achaean observers, hostilein faith to the Children of Israel. The topic has since been treated infiction by Dr. Ebers, in his _Joshua_. In such a twilight age, fancy hasfree play, but it is a curious fact that, in this romance, modern fancyhas accidentally coincided with that of ancient Greece. 

Most of the novel was written, and the apparently "un-Greek" marvelsattributed to Helen had been put on paper, when a part of Furtwängler'srecent great lexicon of Mythology appeared, with the article on Helen. The authors of _The World's Desire_ read it with a feeling akin toamazement. Their wildest inventions about the Daughter of the Swan, itseemed, had parallels in the obscurer legends of Hellas. There actuallyis a tradition, preserved by Eustathius, that Paris beguiled Helenby magically putting on the aspect of Menelaus. There is a mediaevalparallel in the story of Uther and Ygerne, mother of Arthur, andthe classical case of Zeus and Amphitryon is familiar. Again, theblood-dripping ruby of Helen, in the tale, is mentioned by Servius inhis commentary on Virgil (it was pointed out to one of the authorsby Mr. Mackail). But we did not know that the Star of the story wasactually called the "Star-stone" in ancient Greek fable. The many voicesof Helen are alluded to by Homer in the _Odyssey_: she was also named_Echo_, in old tradition. To add that she could assume the aspect ofevery man's first love was easy. Goethe introduces the same qualityin the fair witch of his _Walpurgis Nacht_. A respectable portrait ofMeriamun's secret counsellor exists, in pottery, in the British Museum, though, as it chances, it was not discovered by us until after thepublication of this romance. The Laestrygonian of the Last Battle isintroduced as a pre-historic Norseman. Mr. Gladstone, we think, wasperhaps the first to point out that the Laestrygonians of the _Odyssey_, with their home on a fiord in the Land of the Midnight Sun, wereprobably derived from travellers' tales of the North, borne with theamber along the immemorial Sacred Way. The Magic of Meriamun is inaccordance with Egyptian ideas; her resuscitation of the dead woman, Hataska, has a singular parallel in Reginald Scot's _Discovery ofWitchcraft_ (1584), where the spell "by the silence of the Night" is notwithout poetry. The general conception of Helen as the World's Desire, Ideal Beauty, has been dealt with by M. Paul de St. Victor, and Mr. J. A. Symonds. For the rest, some details of battle, and of wounds, whichmust seem very "un-Greek" to critics ignorant of Greek literature, areborrowed from Homer. 

H. R. H. A. L. 

THE WORLD'S DESIRE

by H. Rider Haggard and Andrew Lang

 Come with us, ye whose hearts are set On this, the Present to forget; Come read the things whereof ye know _They were not, and could not be so!_ The murmur of the fallen creeds, Like winds among wind-shaken reeds Along the banks of holy Nile, Shall echo in your ears the while; The fables of the North and South Shall mingle in a modern mouth; The fancies of the West and East Shall flock and flit about the feast Like doves that cooled, with waving wing, The banquets of the Cyprian king. Old shapes of song that do not die Shall haunt the halls of memory, And though the Bow shall prelude clear Shrill as the song of Gunnar's spear, There answer sobs from lute and lyre That murmured of The World's Desire. 

 * * * * *

 There lives no man but he hath seen The World's Desire, the fairy queen. None but hath seen her to his cost, Not one but loves what he has lost. None is there but hath heard her sing Divinely through his wandering; Not one but he has followed far The portent of the Bleeding Star; Not one but he hath chanced to wake, Dreamed of the Star and found the Snake. Yet, through his dreams, a wandering fire, Still, still she flits, THE WORLD'S DESIRE!

BOOK I

I

THE SILENT ISLE

Across the wide backs of the waves, beneath the mountains, and betweenthe islands, a ship came stealing from the dark into the dusk, and fromthe dusk into the dawn. The ship had but one mast, one broad brown sailwith a star embroidered on it in gold; her stem and stern were builthigh, and curved like a bird's beak; her prow was painted scarlet, andshe was driven by oars as well as by the western wind. 

A man stood alone on the half-deck at the bows, a man who looked alwaysforward, through the night, and the twilight, and the clear morning. Hewas of no great stature, but broad-breasted and very wide-shouldered, with many signs of strength. He had blue eyes, and dark curled locksfalling beneath a red cap such as sailors wear, and over a purple cloak, fastened with a brooch of gold. There were threads of silver in hiscurls, and his beard was flecked with white. His whole heart wasfollowing his eyes, watching first for the blaze of the island beaconsout of the darkness, and, later, for the smoke rising from the far-offhills. But he watched in vain; there was neither light nor smoke on thegrey peak that lay clear against a field of yellow sky. 

There was no smoke, no fire, no sound of voices, nor cry of birds. Theisle was deadly still. 

As they neared the coast, and neither heard nor saw a sign of life, theman's face fell. The gladness went out of his eyes, his features grewolder with anxiety and doubt, and with longing for tidings of his home. 

No man ever loved his home more than he, for this was Odysseus, theson of Laertes--whom some call Ulysses--returned from his unsung secondwandering. The whole world has heard the tale of his first voyage, howhe was tossed for ten years on the sea after the taking of Troy, howhe reached home at last, alone and disguised as a beggar; how he foundviolence in his house, how he slew his foes in his own hall, and won hiswife again. But even in his own country he was not permitted to rest, for there was a curse upon him and a labour to be accomplished. He mustwander again till he reached the land of men who had never tasted salt, nor ever heard of the salt sea. There he must sacrifice to the Sea-God, and then, at last, set his face homewards. Now he had endured thatcurse, he had fulfilled the prophecy, he had angered, by misadventure, the Goddess who was his friend, and after adventures that have never yetbeen told, he had arrived within a bowshot of Ithaca. 

He came from strange countries, from the Gates of the Sun and from WhiteRock, from the Passing Place of Souls and the people of Dreams. 

But he found his own isle more still and strange by far. The realm ofDreams was not so dumb, the Gates of the Sun were not so still, as theshores of the familiar island beneath the rising dawn. 

This story, whereof the substance was set out long ago by Rei, theinstructed Egyptian priest, tells what he found there, and the tale ofthe last adventures of Odysseus, Laertes' son. 

The ship ran on and won the well-known haven, sheltered from wind by twoheadlands of sheer cliff. There she sailed straight in, till the leavesof the broad olive tree at the head of the inlet were tangled in hercordage. Then the Wanderer, without once looking back, or saying oneword of farewell to his crew, caught a bough of the olive tree with hishand, and swung himself ashore. Here he kneeled, and kissed the earth, and, covering his head within his cloak, he prayed that he might findhis house at peace, his wife dear and true, and his son worthy of him. 

But not one word of his prayer was to be granted. The Gods give andtake, but on the earth the Gods cannot restore. 

When he rose from his knees he glanced back across the waters, but therewas now no ship in the haven, nor any sign of a sail upon the seas. 

And still the land was silent; not even the wild birds cried a welcome. 

The sun was hardly up, men were scarce awake, the Wanderer said tohimself; and he set a stout heart to the steep path leading up the hill, over the wolds, and across the ridge of rock that divides the two massesof the island. Up he climbed, purposing, as of old, to seek the house ofhis faithful servant, the swineherd, and learn from him the tidings ofhis home. On the brow of a hill he stopped to rest, and looked down onthe house of the servant. But the strong oak palisade was broken, nosmoke came from the hole in the thatched roof, and, as he approached, the dogs did not run barking, as sheep-dogs do, at the stranger. Thevery path to the house was overgrown, and dumb with grass; even a dog'skeen ears could scarcely have heard a footstep. 

The door of the swineherd's hut was open, but all was dark within. Thespiders had woven a glittering web across the empty blackness, a signthat for many days no man had entered. Then the Wanderer shouted twice, and thrice, but the only answer was an echo from the hill. He went in, hoping to find food, or perhaps a spark of fire sheltered under the dryleaves. But all was vacant and cold as death. 

The Wanderer came forth into the warm sunlight, set his face to the hillagain, and went on his way to the city of Ithaca. 

He saw the sea from the hill-top glittering as of yore, but there wereno brown sails of fisher-boats on the sea. All the land that should nowhave waved with the white corn was green with tangled weeds. Half-waydown the rugged path was a grove of alders, and the basin into whichwater flowed from the old fountain of the Nymphs. But no maidens werethere with their pitchers; the basin was broken, and green with mould;the water slipped through the crevices and hurried to the sea. Therewere no offerings of wayfarers, rags and pebbles, by the well; and onthe altar of the Nymphs the flame had long been cold. The very asheswere covered with grass, and a branch of ivy had hidden the stone ofsacrifice. 

On the Wanderer pressed with a heavy heart; now the high roof of his ownhall and the wide fenced courts were within his sight, and he hurriedforward to know the worst. 

Too soon he saw that the roofs were smokeless, and all the court wasdeep in weeds. Where the altar of Zeus had stood in the midst of thecourt there was now no altar, but a great, grey mound, not of earth, butof white dust mixed with black. Over this mound the coarse grass prickedup scantily, like thin hair on a leprosy. 

Then the Wanderer shuddered, for out of the grey mound peeped thecharred black bones of the dead. He drew near, and, lo! the whole heapwas of nothing else than the ashes of men and women. Death had been busyhere: here many people had perished of a pestilence. They had all beenconsumed on one funeral fire, while they who laid them there must havefled, for there was no sign of living man. The doors gaped open, andnone entered, and none came forth. The house was dead, like the peoplewho had dwelt in it. 

Then the Wanderer paused where once the old hound Argos had welcomed himand had died in that welcome. There, unwelcomed, he stood, leaning onhis staff. Then a sudden ray of the sun fell on something that glitteredin the heap, and he touched it with the end of the staff that he had inhis hand. It slid jingling from the heap; it was the bone of a forearm, and that which glittered on it was a half-molten ring of gold. On thegold lambda these characters were engraved:

IKMALIOS MEPOIESEN

(Icmalios made me. )

At the sight of the armlet the Wanderer fell on the earth, grovellingamong the ashes of the pyre, for he knew the gold ring which he hadbrought from Ephyre long ago, for a gift to his wife Penelope. Thiswas the bracelet of the bride of his youth, and here, a mockery and aterror, were those kind arms in which he had lain. Then his strength wasshaken with sobbing, and his hands clutched blindly before him, and hegathered dust and cast it upon his head till the dark locks were defiledwith the ashes of his dearest, and he longed to die. 

There he lay, biting his hands for sorrow, and for wrath against God andFate. There he lay while the sun in the heavens smote him, and he knewit not; while the wind of the sunset stirred in his hair, and he stirrednot. He could not even shed one tear, for this was the sorest of all thesorrows that he had known on the waves of the sea, or on land among thewars of men. 

The sun fell and the ways were darkened. Slowly the eastern sky grewsilver with the moon. A night-fowl's voice was heard from afar, it drewnearer; then through the shadow of the pyre the black wings flutteredinto the light, and the carrion bird fixed its talons and its beak onthe Wanderer's neck. Then he moved at length, tossed up an arm, andcaught the bird of darkness by the neck, and broke it, and dashed it onthe ground. His sick heart was mad with the little sudden pain, and heclutched for the knife in his girdle that he might slay himself, buthe was unarmed. At last he rose, muttering, and stood in the moonlight, like a lion in some ruinous palace of forgotten kings. He was faint withhunger and weak with long lamenting, as he stepped within his own doors. There he paused on that high threshold of stone where once he had sat inthe disguise of a beggar, that very threshold whence, on another day, hehad shot the shafts of doom among the wooers of his wife and the wastersof his home. But now his wife was dead: all his voyaging was ended here, and all his wars were vain. In the white light the house of his kingshipwas no more than the ghost of a home, dreadful, unfamiliar, emptyof warmth and love and light. The tables were fallen here and therethroughout the long hall; mouldering bones, from the funeral feast, andshattered cups and dishes lay in one confusion; the ivory chairs werebroken, and on the walls the moonbeams glistened now and again frompoints of steel and blades of bronze, though many swords were dark withrust. 

But there, in its gleaming case, lay one thing friendly and familiar. There lay the Bow of Eurytus, the bow for which great Heracles had slainhis own host in his halls; the dreadful bow that no mortal man but theWanderer could bend. He was never used to carry this precious bow withhim on shipboard, when he went to the wars, but treasured it at home, the memorial of a dear friend foully slain. So now, when the voices ofdog, and slave, and child, and wife were mute, there yet came out ofthe stillness a word of welcome to the Wanderer. For this bow, whichhad thrilled in the grip of a god, and had scattered the shafts of thevengeance of Heracles, was wondrously made and magical. A spirit dweltwithin it which knew of things to come, which boded the battle fromafar, and therefore always before the slaying of men the bow sangstrangely through the night. The voice of it was thin and shrill, aringing and a singing of the string and of the bow. While the Wandererstood and looked on his weapon, hark! the bow began to thrill! The soundwas faint at first, a thin note, but as he listened the voice of it inthat silence grew clear, strong, angry and triumphant. In his ears andto his heart it seemed that the wordless chant rang thus:

 Keen and low Doth the arrow sing The Song of the Bow, The sound of the string. The shafts cry shrill: Let us forth again, Let us feed our fill On the flesh of men. Greedy and fleet Do we fly from far, Like the birds that meet For the feast of war, Till the air of fight With our wings be stirred, As it whirrs from the flight Of the ravening bird. Like the flakes that drift On the snow-wind's breath, Many and swift, And winged for death-- Greedy and fleet, Do we speed from far, Like the birds that meet On the bridge of war. Fleet as ghosts that wail, When the dart strikes true, Do the swift shafts hail, Till they drink warm dew. Keen and low Do the grey shafts sing The Song of the Bow, The sound of the string. 

This was the message of Death, and this was the first sound that hadbroken the stillness of his home. 

At the welcome of this music which spoke to his heart--this music he hadheard so many a time--the Wanderer knew that there was war at hand. He knew that the wings of his arrows should be swift to fly, and theirbeaks of bronze were whetted to drink the blood of men. He put out hishand and took the bow, and tried the string, and it answered shrill asthe song of the swallow. 

Then at length, when he heard the bowstring twang to his touch, thefountains of his sorrow were unsealed; tears came like soft rains on afrozen land, and the Wanderer wept. 

When he had his fill of weeping, he rose, for hunger drove him--hungerthat is of all things the most shameless, being stronger far thansorrow, or love, or any other desire. The Wanderer found his way throughthe narrow door behind the dais, and stumbling now and again over fallenfragments of the home which he himself had built, he went to the inner, secret storehouse. Even _he_ could scarcely find the door, for saplingsof trees had grown up about it; yet he found it at last. Within the holywell the water was yet babbling and shining in the moonlight over thesilver sands; and here, too, there was store of mouldering grain, forthe house had been abundantly rich when the great plague fell upon thepeople while he was far away. So he found food to satisfy his hunger, after a sort, and next he gathered together out of his treasure-chestthe beautiful golden armour of unhappy Paris, son of Priam, the falselove of fair Helen. These arms had been taken at the sack of Troy, andhad lain long in the treasury of Menelaus in Sparta; but on a day he hadgiven them to Odysseus, the dearest of all his guests. The Wandererclad himself in this golden gear, and took the sword called "Euryalus'sGift, " a bronze blade with a silver hilt, and a sheath of ivory, whicha stranger had given him in a far-off land. Already the love of lifehad come back to him, now that he had eaten and drunk, and had heard theSong of the Bow, the Slayer of Men. He lived yet, and hope lived in himthough his house was desolate, and his wedded wife was dead, and therewas none to give him tidings of his one child, Telemachus. Even solife beat strong in his heart, and his hands would keep his head if anysea-robbers had come to the city of Ithaca and made their home there, like hawks in the forsaken nest of an eagle of the sea. So he cladhimself in his armour, and chose out two spears from a stand of lances, and cleaned them, and girt about his shoulders a quiver full of shafts, and took in hand his great bow, the Bow of Eurytus, which no other mancould bend. 

Then he went forth from the ruined house into the moonlight, wentforth for the last time; for never again did the high roof echo to thefootstep of its lord. Long has the grass grown over it, and the sea-windwailed!

II

THE VISION OF THE WORLD'S DESIRE

The fragrant night was clear and still, the silence scarce broken by thelapping of the waves, as the Wanderer went down from his fallen home tothe city on the sea, walking warily, and watching for any light from thehouses of the people. But they were all as dark as his own, many of themroofless and ruined, for, after the plague, an earthquake had smittenthe city. There were gaping chasms in the road, here and there, andthrough rifts in the walls of the houses the moon shone strangely, making ragged shadows. At last the Wanderer reached the Temple ofAthene, the Goddess of War; but the roof had fallen in, the pillars wereoverset, and the scent of wild thyme growing in the broken pavement rosewhere he walked. Yet, as he stood by the door of the fane, where he hadburned so many a sacrifice, at length he spied a light blazing from thewindows of a great chapel by the sea. It was the Temple of Aphrodite, the Queen of Love, and from the open door a sweet savour of incense anda golden blaze rushed forth till they were lost in the silver of themoonshine and in the salt smell of the sea. Thither the Wanderer wentslowly, for his limbs were swaying with weariness, and he was half ina dream. Yet he hid himself cunningly in the shadow of a long avenueof myrtles, for he guessed that sea-robbers were keeping revel inthe forsaken shrine. But he heard no sound of singing and no tread ofdancing feet within the fane of the Goddess of Love; the sacred plotof the goddess and her chapels were silent. He hearkened awhile, andwatched, till at last he took courage, drew near the doors, and enteredthe holy place. But in the tall, bronze braziers there were no faggotsburning, nor were there torches lighted in the hands of the golden menand maids, the images that stand within the fane of Aphrodite. Yet, ifhe did not dream, nor take moonlight for fire, the temple was bathed inshowers of gold by a splendour of flame. None might see its centre norits fountain; it sprang neither from the altar nor the statue of thegoddess, but was everywhere imminent, a glory not of this world, a fireuntended and unlit. And the painted walls with the stories of the lovesof men and gods, and the carven pillars and the beams, and the roof ofgreen, were bright with flaming fire!

At this the Wanderer was afraid, knowing that an immortal was at hand;for the comings and goings of the gods were attended, as he had seen, by this wonderful light of unearthly fire. So he bowed his head, and hidhis face as he sat by the altar in the holiest of the holy shrine, andwith his right hand he grasped the horns of the altar. As he sat there, perchance he woke, and perchance he slept. However it was, it seemedto him that soon there came a murmuring and a whispering of the myrtleleaves and laurels, and a sound in the tops of the pines, and then hisface was fanned by a breath more cold than the wind that wakes the dawn. At the touch of this breath the Wanderer shuddered, and the hair on hisflesh stood up, so cold was the strange wind. 

There was silence; and he heard a voice, and he knew that it was thevoice of no mortal, but of a goddess. For the speech of goddesses wasnot strange in his ears; he knew the clarion cry of Athene, the Queen ofWisdom and of War; and the winning words of Circe, the Daughter of theSun, and the sweet song of Calypso's voice as she wove with her goldenshuttle at the loom. But now the words came sweeter than the moaning ofdoves, more soft than sleep. So came the golden voice, whether he wokeor whether he dreamed. 

"Odysseus, thou knowest me not, nor am I thy lady, nor hast thou everbeen my servant! Where is she, the Queen of the Air, Athene, and whycomest _thou_ here as a suppliant at the knees of the daughter ofDione?"

He answered nothing, but he bowed his head in deeper sorrow. 

The voice spake again:

"Behold, thy house is desolate; thy hearth is cold. The wild hare breedson thy hearthstone, and the night-bird roosts beneath thy roof-tree. Thou hast neither child nor wife nor native land, and _she_ hathforsaken thee--thy Lady Athene. Many a time didst thou sacrifice to herthe thighs of kine and sheep, but didst thou ever give so much as apair of dove to _me_? Hath she left thee, as the Dawn forsook Tithonus, because there are now threads of silver in the darkness of thy hair? Isthe wise goddess fickle as a nymph of the woodland or the wells? Dothshe love a man only for the bloom of his youth? Nay, I know not; butthis I know, that on thee, Odysseus, old age will soon be hastening--oldage that is pitiless, and ruinous, and weary, and weak--age that comethon all men, and that is hateful to the Gods. Therefore, Odysseus, ereyet it be too late, I would bow even thee to my will, and hold thee formy thrall. For I am she who conquers all things living: Gods and beastsand men. And hast thou thought that thou only shalt escape Aphrodite?Thou that hast never loved as I would have men love; thou that hastnever obeyed me for an hour, nor ever known the joy and the sorrow thatare mine to give? For thou didst but ensure the caresses of Circe, theDaughter of the Sun, and thou wert aweary in the arms of Calypso, andthe Sea King's daughter came never to her longing. As for her who isdead, thy dear wife Penelope, thou didst love her with a loyal heart, but never with a heart of fire. Nay, she was but thy companion, thyhousewife, and the mother of thy child. She was mingled with all thememories of the land thou lovest, and so thou gavest her a little love. But she is dead; and thy child too is no more; and thy very country isas the ashes of a forsaken hearth where once was a camp of men. Whathave all thy wars and wanderings won for thee, all thy labours, and allthe adventures thou hast achieved? For what didst thou seek amongthe living and the dead? Thou soughtest that which all men seek--thousoughtest _The World's Desire_. They find it not, nor hast thou foundit, Odysseus; and thy friends are dead; thy land is dead; nothing livesbut Hope. But the life that lies before thee is new, without a remnantof the old days, except for the bitterness of longing and remembrance. Out of this new life, and the unborn hours, wilt thou not give, whatnever before thou gavest, one hour to me, to be my servant?"

The voice, as it seemed, grew softer and came nearer, till the Wandererheard it whisper in his very ear, and with the voice came a divinefragrance. The breath of her who spoke seemed to touch his neck; theimmortal tresses of the Goddess were mingled with the dark curls of hishair. 

The voice spake again:

"Nay, Odysseus, didst thou not once give me one little hour? Fear not, for thou shalt not see me at this time, but lift thy head and look onThe World's Desire!"

Then the Wanderer lifted his head, and he saw, as it were in a pictureor in a mirror of bronze, the vision of a girl. She was more than mortaltall, and though still in the first flower of youth, and almost a childin years, she seemed fair as a goddess, and so beautiful that Aphroditeherself may perchance have envied this loveliness. She was slim andgracious as a young shoot of a palm tree, and her eyes were fearless andinnocent as a child's. On her head she bore a shining urn of bronze, as if she were bringing water from the wells, and behind her was thefoliage of a plane tree. Then the Wanderer knew her, and saw her onceagain as he had seen her, when in his boyhood he had journeyed to theCourt of her father, King Tyndareus. For, as he entered Sparta, and camedown the hill Taygetus, and as his chariot wheels flashed through theford of Eurotas, he had met her there on her way from the river. There, in his youth, his eyes had gazed on the loveliness of Helen, and hisheart had been filled with the desire of the fairest of women, and likeall the princes of Achaia he had sought her hand in marriage. But Helenwas given to another man, to Menelaus, Atreus's son, of an evil house, that the knees of many might be loosened in death, and that there mightbe a song in the ears of men in after time. 

As he beheld the vision of young Helen, the Wanderer too grew youngagain. But as he gazed with the eyes and loved with the first love of aboy, she melted like a mist, and out of the mist came another vision. Hesaw himself, disguised as a beggar, beaten and bruised, yet seated in along hall bright with gold, while a woman bathed his feet, and anointedhis head with oil. And the face of the woman was the face of the maiden, and even more beautiful, but sad with grief and with an ancient shame. Then he remembered how once he had stolen into Troy town from the campof the Achæans, and how he had crept in a beggar's rags within the houseof Priam to spy upon the Trojans, and how Helen, the fairest of women, had bathed him, and anointed him with oil, and suffered him to go inpeace, all for the memory of the love that was between them of old. Ashe gazed, that picture faded and melted in the mist, and again he bowedhis head, and kneeled by the golden altar of the Goddess, crying:

"Where beneath the sunlight dwells the golden Helen?" For now he hadonly one desire: to look on Helen again before he died. 

Then the voice of the Goddess seemed to whisper in his ear:

"Did I not say truth, Odysseus? Wast not thou my servant for one hour, and did not Love save thee in the city of the Trojans on that night wheneven Wisdom was of no avail?"

He answered: "Yea, O Queen!"

"Behold then, " said the voice, "I would again have mercy and be kind tothee, for if I aid thee not thou hast no more life left among men. Home, and kindred, and native land thou hast none; and, but for me, thoumust devour thine own heart and be lonely till thou diest. ThereforeI breathe into thy heart a sweet forgetfulness of every sorrow, and Ibreathe love into thee for her who was thy first love in the beginningof thy days. 

"For Helen is living yet upon the earth. And I will send thee on thequest of Helen, and thou shalt again take joy in war and wandering. Thoushalt find her in a strange land, among a strange people, in a strife ofgods and men; and the wisest and bravest of man shall sleep at last inthe arms of the fairest of women. But learn this, Odysseus; thou mustset thy heart on no other woman, but only on Helen. 

"And I give thee a sign to know her by in a land of magic, and amongwomen that deal in sorceries. 

"_On the breast of Helen a jewel shines, a great star-stone, the gift Igave her on her wedding-night when she was bride to Menelaus. From thatstone fall red drops like blood, and they drip on her vestment, andthere vanish, and do not stain it. _

"By the Star of Love shalt thou know her; by the star shalt thou swearto her; and if thou knowest not the portent of the Bleeding Star, or ifthou breakest that oath, never in this life, Odysseus, shalt thou winthe golden Helen! And thine own death shall come from the water--theswiftest death--that the saying of the dead prophet may be fulfilled. Yet first shalt thou lie in the arms of the golden Helen. "

The Wanderer answered:

"Queen, how may this be, for I am alone on a seagirt isle, and I have noship and no companions to speed me over the great gulf of the sea?"

Then the voice answered:

"Fear not! the gods can bring to pass even greater things than these. Gofrom my house, and lie down to sleep in my holy ground, within the noiseof the wash of the waves. There sleep, and take thy rest! Thy strengthshall come back to thee, and before the setting of the new sun thoushalt be sailing on the path to The World's Desire. But first drink fromthe chalice on my altar. Fare thee well!"

The voice died into silence, like the dying of music. The Wanderer awokeand lifted his head, but the light had faded, and the temple was grey inthe first waking of the dawn. Yet there, on the altar where no cup hadbeen, stood a deep chalice of gold, full of red wine to the brim. Thisthe Wanderer lifted and drained--a draught of Nepenthe, the magic cupthat puts trouble out of mind. As he drank, a wave of sweet hope wentover his heart, and buried far below it the sorrow of remembrance, andthe trouble of the past, and the longing desire for loves that were nomore. 

With a light step he went forth like a younger man, taking the twospears in his hand, and the bow upon his back, and he lay down beneath agreat rock that looked toward the deep, and there he slept. 

III

THE SLAYING OF THE SIDONIANS

Morning broke in the East. A new day dawned upon the silent sea, and onthe world of light and sound. The sunrise topped the hill at last, andfell upon the golden raiment of the Wanderer where he slept, making itblaze like living fire. As the sun touched him, the prow of a black shipstole swiftly round the headland, for the oarsmen drove her well withthe oars. Any man who saw her would have known her to be a vessel ofthe merchants of Sidon--the most cunning people and the greediest ofgain--for on her prow were two big-headed shapes of dwarfs, with gapingmouths and knotted limbs. Such gods as those were worshipped by theSidonians. She was now returning from Albion, an isle beyond the pillarsof Heracles and the gates of the great sea, where much store of tin isfound; and she had rich merchandise on board. On the half-deck besidethe steersman was the captain, a thin, keen-eyed sailor, who lookedshoreward and saw the sun blaze on the golden armour of the Wanderer. They were so far off that he could not see clearly what it was thatglittered yellow, but all that glittered yellow was a lure for him, and gold drew him on as iron draws the hands of heroes. So he bade thehelmsman steer straight in, for the sea was deep below the rock, andthere they all saw a man lying asleep in golden armour. They whisperedtogether, laughing silently, and then sprang ashore, taking with thema rope of twisted ox-hide, a hawser of the ship, and a strong cable ofbyblus, the papyrus plant. On these ropes they cast a loop and a runningknot, a lasso for throwing, so that they might capture the man in safetyfrom a distance. With these in their hands they crept up the cliff, fortheir purpose was to noose the man in golden armour, and drag him onboard their vessel, and carry him to the mouth of the river of Egypt, and there sell him for a slave to the King. For the Sidonians, who weregreedy of everything, loved nothing better than to catch free men andwomen, who might be purchased, by mere force or guile, and then be soldagain for gold and silver and cattle. Many kings' sons had thus beencaptured by them, and had seen the day of slavery in Babylon, or Tyre, or Egyptian Thebes, and had died sadly, far from the Argive land. 

So the Sidonians went round warily, and, creeping in silence over theshort grass and thyme towards the Wanderer, were soon as near to him asa child could throw a stone. Like shepherds who seek to net a sleepinglion, they came cunningly; yet not so cunningly but that the Wandererheard them through his dreams, and turned and sat up, looking around himhalf awake. But as he woke the noose fell about his neck and over hisarms and they drew it hard, and threw him on his back. Before they couldtouch him he was on his feet again, crying his war-cry terribly, the crythat shook the towers of Ilium, and he rushed upon them, clutching athis sword hilt. The men who were nearest him and had hold of the ropelet it fall from their hands and fled, but the others swung behind him, and dragged with all their force. If his arms had been free so that hemight draw his sword, it would have gone ill with them, many as theywere, for the Sidonians have no stomach for sword blades; but his armswere held in the noose. Yet they did not easily master him; but, asthose who had fled came back, and they all laid hands on the ropetogether, they overpowered him by main force at last, and hauled him, step by step, till he stumbled on a rock and fell. Then they rushed athim, and threw themselves all upon his body, and bound him with ropes incunning sailor knots. But the booty was dearly won, and they did not allreturn alive; for he crushed one man with his knees till the breath lefthim, and the thigh of another he broke with a blow of his foot. 

But at last his strength was spent, and they had him like a bird in asnare; so, by might and main, they bore him to their ship, and threw himdown on the fore-deck of the vessel. There they mocked him, though theywere half afraid; for even now he was terrible. Then they hauled up thesail again and sat down to the oars. The wind blew fair for the mouthof the Nile and the slave-market of Egypt. The wind was fair, and theirhearts were light, for they had been among the first of their people todeal with the wild tribes of the island Albion, and had brought tin andgold for African sea shells and rude glass beads from Egypt. And now, near the very end of their adventure, they had caught a man whose armourand whose body were worth a king's ransom. It was a lucky voyage, theysaid, and the wind was fair!

The rest of the journey was long, but in well-known waters. They passedby Cephalonia and the rock of Ægilips, and wooded Zacynthus, and Samê, and of all those isles he was the lord, whom they were now sellinginto captivity. But he lay still, breathing heavily, and he stirred butonce--that was when they neared Zacynthus. Then he strained his headround with a mighty strain, and he saw the sun go down upon the heightsof rocky Ithaca, for that last time of all. 

So the swift ship ran along the coast, slipping by forgotten towns. Pastthe Echinean isles, and the Elian shore, and pleasant Eirene they sped, and it was dusk ere they reached Dorion. Deep night had fallen when theyran by Pylos; and the light of the fires in the hall of Pisistratus, theson of Nestor the Old, shone out across the sandy sea-coast and thesea. But when they were come near Malea, the southernmost point of land, where two seas meet, there the storm snatched them, and drove them eversouthwards, beyond Crete, towards the mouth of the Nile. They scuddedlong before the storm-wind, losing their reckoning, and rushing byisland temples that showed like ghosts through the mist, and past havenswhich they could not win. On they fled, and the men would gladly havelightened the ship by casting the cargo overboard; but the captainwatched the hatches with a sword and two bronze-tipped spears in hishand. He would sink or swim with the ship; he would go down with histreasure, or reach Sidon, the City of Flowers, and build a white houseamong the palms by the waters of Bostren, and never try the sea again. 

So he swore; and he would not let them cast the Wanderer overboard, asthey desired, because he had brought bad luck. "He shall bring a goodprice in Tanis, " cried the captain. And at last the storm abated, andthe Sidonians took heart, and were glad like men escaped from death; sothey sacrificed and poured forth wine before the dwarf-gods on the prowof their vessel, and burned incense on their little altar. In theirmirth, and to mock the Wanderer, they hung his sword and his shieldagainst the mast, and his quiver and his bow they arrayed in the fashionof a trophy; and they mocked him, believing that he knew no word oftheir speech. But he knew it well, as he knew the speech of the peopleof Egypt; for he had seen the cities of many men, and had spoken withcaptains and mercenaries from many a land in the great wars. 

The Sidonians, however, jibed and spoke freely before him, saying howthey were bound for the rich city of Tanis, on the banks of the Riverof Egypt, and how the captain was minded to pay his toll to Pharaohwith the body and the armour of the Wanderer. That he might seem thecomelier, and a gift more fit for a king, the sailors slackened hisbonds a little, and brought him dried meat and wine, and he ate till hisstrength returned to him. Then he entreated them by signs to loosen thecord that bound his legs; for indeed his limbs were dead through thestrength of the bonds, and his armour was eating into his flesh. At hisprayer they took some pity of him and loosened his bonds again, and helay upon his back, moving his legs to and fro till his strength cameback. 

So they sailed southward ever, through smooth waters and past theislands that lie like water-lilies in the midland sea. Many a strangesight they saw: vessels bearing slaves, whose sighing might be heardabove the sighing of wind and water--young men and maidens of Ionia andAchaia, stolen by slave-traders into bondage; now they would touch atthe white havens of a peaceful city; and again they would watch a smokeon the sea-line all day, rising black into the heavens; but by nightfallthe smoke would change to a great roaring fire from the beacons of abeleaguered island town; the fire would blaze on the masts of the shipsof the besiegers, and show blood-red on their sails, and glitter on thegilded shields that lined the bulwarks of their ships. But the Sidonianssped on till, one night, they anchored off a little isle that lies overagainst the mouth of the Nile. Beneath this isle they moored the ship, and slept, most of them, ashore. 

Then the Wanderer began to plot a way to escape, though the enterpriseseemed desperate enough. He was lying in the darkness of the hold, sleepless and sore with his bonds, while his guard watched under anawning in the moonlight on the deck. They dreamed so little of hisescaping that they visited him only by watches, now and again; and, as it chanced, the man whose turn it was to see that all was well fellasleep. Many a thought went through the prisoner's mind, and now itseemed to him that the vision of the Goddess was only a vision of sleep, which came, as they said, through the false Gates of Ivory, and notthrough the Gates of Horn. So he was to live in slavery after all, aking no longer, but a captive, toiling in the Egyptian mines of Sinai, or a soldier at a palace gate, till he died. Thus he brooded, till outof the stillness came a thin, faint, thrilling sound from the bow thathung against the mast over his head, the bow that he never thoughtto string again. There was a noise of a singing of the bow and of thestring, and the wordless song shaped itself thus in the heart of theWanderer:

 Lo! the hour is nigh And the time to smite, When the foe shall fly From the arrow's flight! Let the bronze bite deep! Let the war-birds fly Upon them that sleep And are ripe to die! Shrill and low Do the grey shafts sing The Song of the Bow, The sound of the string!

Then the low music died into the silence, and the Wanderer knew that thenext sun would not set on the day of slavery, and that his revenge wasnear. His bonds would be no barrier to his vengeance; they would breaklike burnt tow, he knew, in the fire of his anger. Long since, in hisold days of wandering, Calypso, his love, had taught him in the summerleisure of her sea-girt isle how to tie the knots that no man coulduntie, and to undo all the knots that men can bind. He remembered thislesson in the night when the bow sang of war. So he thought no moreof sleeping, but cunningly and swiftly unknotted all the cords andthe bonds which bound him to a bar of iron in the hold. He might haveescaped now, perhaps, if he had stolen on deck without waking theguards, dived thence and swam under water towards the island, where hemight have hidden himself in the bush. But he desired revenge no lessthan freedom, and had set his heart on coming in a ship of his own, andwith all the great treasure of the Sidonians, before the Egyptian King. 

With this in his mind, he did not throw off the cords, but let themlie on his arms and legs and about his body, as if they were still tiedfast. But he fought against sleep, lest in moving when he woke he mightreveal the trick, and be bound again. So he lay and waited, and in themorning the sailors came on board, and mocked at him again. In his mirthone of the men took a dish of meat and of lentils, and set it a littleout of the Wanderer's reach as he lay bound, and said in the Phoeniciantongue:

"Mighty lord, art thou some god of Javan" (for so the Sidonians calledthe Achæans), "and wilt thou deign to taste our sacrifice? Is not thesavour sweet in the nostrils of my lord? Why will he not put forth hishand to touch our offering?"

Then the heart of Odysseus muttered sullenly within him, in wrath at theinsolence of the man. But he constrained himself and smiled, and said:

"Wilt thou not bring the mess a very little nearer, my friend, that Imay smell the sweet incense of the sacrifice?"

They were amazed when they heard him speak in their own tongue; but hewho held the dish brought it nearer, like a man that angers a dog, nowoffering the meat, and now taking it away. 

So soon as the man was within reach, the Wanderer sprang out, theloosened bonds falling at his feet, and smote the sailor beneath the earwith his clenched fist. The blow was so fierce, for all his anger wentinto it, that it crushed the bone, and drove the man against the mast ofthe ship so that the strong mast shook. Where he fell, there he lay, hisfeet kicking the floor of the hold in his death-pain. 

Then the Wanderer snatched from the mast his bow and his short sword, slung the quiver about his shoulders, and ran on to the raised deckingof the prow. 

The bulwarks of the deck were high, and the vessel was narrow, andbefore the sailors could stir for amazement the Wanderer had taken hisstand behind the little altar and the dwarf-gods. Here he stood withan arrow on the string, and the bow drawn to his ear, looking about himterribly. 

Now panic and dread came on the Sidonians when they saw him standingthus, and one of the sailors cried:

"Alas! what god have we taken and bound? Our ship may not contain him. Surely he is Resef Mikal, the God of the Bow, whom they of Javan callApollo. Nay, let us land him on the isle and come not to blows with him, but entreat his mercy, lest he rouse the waves and the winds againstus. "

But the captain of the ship of the Sidonians cried:

"Not so, ye knaves! Have at him, for he is no god, but a mortal man; andhis armour is worth many a yoke of oxen!"

Then he bade some of them climb the decking at the further end of theship, and throw spears at him thence; and he called others to bring upone of the long spears and charge him with that. Now these were hugepikes, that were wielded by five or six men at once, and no armour couldwithstand them; they were used in the fights to drive back boarders, andto ward off attacks on ships which were beached on shore in the siegesof towns. 

The men whom the captain appointed little liked the task, for the longspears were laid on tressels along the bulwarks, and to reach them andunship them it was needful to come within range of the bow. But thesailors on the further deck threw all their spears at once, while fivemen leaped on the deck where the Wanderer stood. He loosed the bowstringand the shaft sped on its way; again he drew and loosed, and now two ofthem had fallen beneath his arrows, and one was struck by a chance blowfrom a spear thrown from the further deck, and the other two leaped backinto the hold. 

Then the Wanderer shouted from the high decking of the prow in thespeech of the Sidonians:

"Ye dogs, ye have sailed on your latest seafaring, and never again shallye bring the hour of slavery on any man. "

So he cried, and the sailors gathered together in the hold, and tookcounsel how they should deal with him. But meanwhile the bow was silent, and of those on the hinder deck who were casting spears, one dropped andthe others quickly fled to their fellows below, for on the deck they hadno cover. 

The sun was now well risen, and shone on the Wanderer's golden mail, ashe stood alone on the decking, with his bow drawn. The sun shone, therewas silence, the ship swung to her anchor; and still he waited, lookingdown, his arrow pointing at the level of the deck to shoot at the firsthead which rose above the planking. Suddenly there was a rush of men onto the further decking, and certain of them tore the shields that linedthe bulwarks from their pins, and threw them down to those who werebelow, while others cast a shower of spears at the Wanderer. Some of thespears he avoided; others leaped back from his mail; others stood fastin the altar and in the bodies of the dwarf-gods; while he answered withan arrow that did not miss its aim. But his eyes were always watchingmost keenly the hatches nearest him, whence a gangway ran down to thelower part of the ship, where the oarsmen sat; for only thence couldthey make a rush on him. As he watched and drew an arrow from the quiveron his shoulder, he felt, as it were, a shadow between him and the deck. He glanced up quickly, and there, on the yard above his head, a man, whohad climbed the mast from behind, was creeping down to drop on him fromabove. Then the Wanderer snatched a short spear and cast it at the man. The spear sped quicker than a thought, and pinned his two hands to theyard so that he hung there helpless, shrieking to his friends. But thearrows of the Wanderer kept raining on the men who stood on the furtherdeck, and presently some of them, too, leaped down in terror, cryingthat he was a god and not a man, while others threw themselves into thesea, and swam for the island. 

Then the Wanderer himself waited no longer, seeing them all amazed, buthe drew his sword and leaped down among them with a cry like a sea-eagleswooping on seamews in the crevice of a rock. To right and left he smotewith the short sword, making a havoc and sparing none, for the swordravened in his hand. And some fell over the benches and oars, but suchof the sailors as could flee rushed up the gangway into the furtherdeck, and thence sprang overboard, while those who had not the luck toflee fell where they stood, and scarcely struck a blow. Only the captainof the ship, knowing that all was lost, turned and threw a spear in theWanderer's face. But he watched the flash of the bronze and stoopedhis head, so that the spear struck only the golden helm and pierced itthrough, but scarcely grazed his head. Now the Wanderer sprang on theSidonian captain, and smote him with the flat of his sword so that hefell senseless on the deck, and then he bound him hand and foot withcords as he himself had been bound, and made him fast to the iron bar inthe hold. Next he gathered up the dead in his mighty arms, and set themagainst the bulwarks of the fore-deck--harvesting the fruits of War. Above the deck the man who had crept along the yard was hanging by histwo hands which the spear had pinned together to the yard. 

"Art thou there, friend?" cried the Wanderer, mocking him. "Hast thouchosen to stay with me rather than go with thy friends, or seek newservice? Nay, then, as thou art so staunch, abide there and keep a goodlook-out for the river mouth and the market where thou shalt sell me fora great price. " So he spoke, but the man was already dead of pain andfear. Then the Wanderer unbuckled his golden armour, which clanged uponthe deck, and drew fresh water from the hold to cleanse himself, forhe was stained like a lion that has devoured an ox. Next, with a goldencomb he combed his long dark curls, and he gathered his arrows out ofthe bodies of the dead, and out of the thwarts and the sides of theship, cleansed them, and laid them back in the quiver. When all thiswas ended he put on his armour again; but strong as he was, he could nottear the spear from the helm without breaking the gold; so he snappedthe shaft and put on the helmet with the point of the javelin stillfixed firm in the crest, as Fate would have it so, and this was thebeginning of his sorrows. Next he ate meat and bread, and drank wine, and poured forth some of the wine before his gods. Lastly he draggedup the heavy stone with which the ship was moored, a stone heavier far, they say, than two other men could lift. He took the tiller in his hand;the steady north wind, the Etesian wind, kept blowing in the sails, andhe steered straight southward for the mouths of the Nile. 

IV

THE BLOOD-RED SEA

A hard fight it had been and a long, and the Wanderer was weary. He tookthe tiller of the ship in his hand, and steered for the South andfor the noonday sun, which was now at his highest in the heavens. Butsuddenly the bright light of the sky was darkened and the air was filledwith the rush, and the murmur, and the winnowing of innumerable wings. It was as if all the birds that have their homes and seek their food inthe great salt marsh of Cayster had risen from the South and had flownover sea in one hour, for the heaven was darkened with their flight, andloud with the call of cranes and the whistling cry of the wild ducks. So dark was the thick mass of flying fowl, that a flight of swans shonesnowy against the black cloud of their wings. At the view of them theWanderer caught his bow eagerly into his hand and set an arrow on thestring, and, taking a careful aim at the white wedge of birds, he shot awild swan through the breast as it swept high over the mast. Then, with all the speed of its rush, the wild white swan flashed down likelightning into the sea behind the ship. The Wanderer watched its fall, when, lo! the water where the dead swan fell splashed up as red as bloodand all afoam! The long silver wings and snowy plumage floated on thesurface flecked with blood-red stains, and the Wanderer marvelled as hebent over the bulwarks and gazed steadily upon the sea. Then he saw thatthe wide sea round the ship was covered, as far as the eye could reach, as it were with a blood-red scum. Hither and thither the red stain wastossed like foam, yet beneath, where the deep wave divided, the Wanderersaw that the streams of the sea were grey and green below the crimsondye. As he watched he saw, too, that the red froth was drifted alwaysonward from the South and from the mouth of the River of Egypt, forbehind the wake of the ship it was most red of all, though he had notmarked it when the battle raged. But in front the colour grew thin, asif the stain that the river washed down was all but spent. In his heartthe Wanderer thought, as any man must have deemed, that on the banks ofthe River of Egypt there had been some battle of great nations, andthat the War God had raged furiously, wherefore the holy river as it ranforth stained all the sacred sea. Where war was, there was his home, noother home had he now, and all the more eagerly he steered right on tosee what the Gods would send him. The flight of birds was over and past;it was two hours after noon, the light was high in the heaven, when, as he gazed, another shadow fell on him, for the sun in mid-heaven grewsmall, and red as blood. Slowly a mist rose up over it from the South, a mist that was thin but as black as night. Beyond, to the southward, there was a bank of cloud like a mountain wall, steep, and polished, and black, tipped along the ragged crest with fire, and opening everand again with flashes of intolerable splendour, while the bases werescrawled over with lightning like a written scroll. Never had theWanderer in all his voyaging on the sea and on the great River Oceanusthat girdles the earth, and severs the dead from the living men--neverhad he beheld such a darkness. Presently he came as it were within thejaws of it, dark as a wolf's mouth, so dark that he might not see thecorpses on the deck, nor the mast, nor the dead man swinging from theyard, nor the captain of the Phoenicians who groaned aloud below, prayingto his gods. But in the wake of the ship there was one break of clearblue sky on the horizon, in which the little isle where he had slain theSidonians might be discerned far off, as bright and white as ivory. 

Now, though he knew it not, the gates of his own world were closingbehind the Wanderer for ever. To the North, whence he came, lay theclear sky, and the sunny capes and isles, and the airy mountains of theArgive lands, white with the temples of familiar Gods. But in face ofhim, to the South, whither he went, was a cloud of darkness and a landof darkness itself. There were things to befall more marvellous than aretold in any tale; there was to be a war of the peoples, and of the Gods, the True Gods and the False, and there he should find the last embracesof Love, the False Love and the True. 

Foreboding somewhat of the perils that lay in front, the Wanderer wastempted to shift his course and sail back to the sunlight. But he wasone that had never turned his hand from the plough, nor his foot fromthe path, and he thought that now his path was fore-ordained. So helashed the tiller with a rope, and groped his way with his hands alongthe deck till he reached the altar of the dwarf-gods, where the embersof the sacrifice still were glowing faintly. Then with his sword he cutsome spear-shafts and broken arrows into white chips, and with them hefilled a little brazier, and taking the seed of fire from the altarset light to it from beneath. Presently the wood blazed up through thenoonday night, and the fire flickered and flared on the faces of thedead men that lay about the deck, rolling to larboard and to starboard, as the vessel lurched, and the flame shone red on the golden armour ofthe Wanderer. 

Of all his voyages this was the strangest seafaring, he cruising alone, with a company of the dead, deep into a darkness without measure orbound, to a land that might not be descried. Strange gusts of suddenwind blew him hither and thither. The breeze would rise in a momentfrom any quarter, and die as suddenly as it rose, and another windwould chase it over the chopping seas. He knew not if he sailed South orNorth, he knew not how time passed, for there was no sight of the sun. It was night without a dawn. Yet his heart was glad, as if he had been aboy again, for the old sorrows were forgotten, so potent was the draughtof the chalice of the Goddess, and so keen was the delight of battle. 

"Endure, my heart, " he cried, as often he had cried before, "a worsething than this thou hast endured, " and he caught up a lyre of the deadSidonians, and sang:--

 Though the light of the sun be hidden, Though his race be run, Though we sail in a sea forbidden To the golden sun: Though we wander alone, unknowing, -- Oh, heart of mine, -- The path of the strange sea-going, Of the blood-red brine; Yet endure! We shall not be shaken By things worse than these; We have 'scaped, when our friends were taken, On the unsailed seas; Worse deaths have we faced and fled from, In the Cyclops' den, When the floor of his cave ran red from The blood of men; Worse griefs have we known undaunted, Worse fates have fled; When the Isle that our long love haunted Lay waste and dead!

So he was chanting when he descried, faint and far off, a red glow castup along the darkness like sunset on the sky of the Under-world. Forthis light he steered, and soon he saw two tall pillars of flame blazingbeside each other, with a narrow space of night between them. He helmedthe ship towards these, and when he came near them they were like twomighty mountains of wood burning far into heaven, and each was loftyas the pyre that blazes over men slain in some red war, and each pileroared and flared above a steep crag of smooth black basalt, and betweenthe burning mounds of fire lay the flame-flecked water of a haven. 

The ship neared the haven and the Wanderer saw, moving like firefliesthrough the night, the lanterns in the prows of boats, and from oneof the boats a sailor hailed him in the speech of the people of Egypt, asking him if he desired a pilot. 

"Yea, " he shouted. The boat drew near, and the pilot came aboard, atorch in his hand; but when his eyes fell on the dead men in the ship, and the horror hanging from the yard, and the captain bound to theiron bar, and above all, on the golden armour of the hero, and on thespear-point fast in his helm, and on his terrible face, he shrankback in dread, as if the God Osiris himself, in the Ship of Death, hadreached the harbour. But the Wanderer bade him have no fear, telling himthat he came with much wealth and with a great gift for the Pharaoh. Thepilot, therefore, plucked up heart, and took the helm, and between thetwo great hills of blazing fire the vessel glided into the smooth watersof the River of Egypt, the flames glittering on the Wanderer's mail ashe stood by the mast and chanted the Song of the Bow. 

Then, by the counsel of the pilot, the vessel was steered up the rivertowards the Temple of Heracles in Tanis, where there is a sanctuary forstrangers, and where no man may harm them. But first, the dead Sidonianswere cast overboard into the great river, for the dead bodies of men arean abomination to the Egyptians. And as each body struck the water theWanderer saw a hateful sight, for the face of the river was lashed intofoam by the sudden leaping and rushing of huge four-footed fish, or sothe Wanderer deemed them. The sound of the heavy plunging of the greatwater-beasts, as they darted forth on the prey, smiting at each otherwith their tails, and the gnashing of their jaws when they bit tooeagerly, and only harmed the air, and the leap of a greedy sharp snoutfrom the waves, even before the dead man cast from the ship had quitetouched the water--these things were horrible to see and hear throughthe blackness and by the firelight. A River of Death it seemed, hauntedby the horrors that are said to prey upon the souls and bodies of theDead. For the first time the heart of the Wanderer died within him, at the horror of the darkness and of this dread river and of thewater-beasts that dwelt within it. Then he remembered how the birds hadfled in terror from this place, and he bethought him of the blood-redsea. 

When the dead men were all cast overboard and the river was once morestill, the Wanderer spoke, sick at heart, and inquired of the pilot whythe sea had run so red, and whether war was in the land, and why therewas night over all that country. The fellow answered that there wasno war, but peace, yet the land was strangely plagued with frogs andlocusts and lice in all their coasts, the sacred river Sihor running redfor three whole days, and now, at last, for this the third day, darknessover all the world. But as to the cause of these curses the pilot knewnothing, being a plain man. Only the story went among the people thatthe Gods were angry with Khem (as they call Egypt), which indeed waseasy to see, for those things could come only from the Gods. But whythey were angered the pilot knew not, still it was commonly thought thatthe Divine Hathor, the Goddess of Love, was wroth because of the worshipgiven in Tanis to one they called THE STRANGE HATHOR, a goddess or awoman of wonderful beauty, whose Temple was in Tanis. Concerning herthe pilot said that many years ago, some thirty years, she hadfirst appeared in the country, coming none knew whence, and had beenworshipped in Tanis, and had again departed as mysteriously as she came. But now she had once more chosen to appear visible to men, strangely, and to dwell in her temple; and the men who beheld her could do nothingbut worship her for her beauty. Whether she was a mortal woman or agoddess the pilot did not know, only he thought that she who dwellsin Atarhechis, Hathor of Khem, the Queen of Love, was angry with thestrange Hathor, and had sent the darkness and the plagues to punish themwho worshipped her. The people of the seaboard also murmured that itwould be well to pray the Strange Hathor to depart out of their coasts, if she were a goddess; and if she were a woman to stone her with stones. But the people of Tanis vowed that they would rather die, one andall, than do aught but adore the incomparable beauty of their strangeGoddess. Others again, held that two wizards, leaders of certain slavesof a strange race, wanderers from the desert, settled in Tanis, whomthey called the Apura, caused all these sorrows by art-magic. As if, forsooth, said the pilot, those barbarian slaves were more powerful thanall the priests of Egypt. But for his part, the pilot knew nothing, onlythat if the Divine Hathor were angry with the people of Tanis it washard that she must plague all the land of Khem. 

So the pilot murmured, and his tale was none of the shortest; but evenas he spoke the darkness grew less dark and the cloud lifted a littleso that the shores of the river might be seen in a green light like thelight of Hades, and presently the night was rolled up like a veil, andit was living noonday in the land of Khem. Then all the noise oflife broke forth in one moment, the kine lowing, the wind swaying thefeathery palms, the fish splashing in the stream, men crying to eachother from the river banks, and the voice of multitudes of people inevery red temple praising Ra, their great God, whose dwelling is theSun. The Wanderer, too, praised his own Gods, and gave thanks to Apollo, and to Helios Hyperion, and to Aphrodite. And in the end the pilotbrought the ship to the quay of a great city, and there a crew ofoarsmen was hired, and they sped rejoicing in the sunlight, through acanal dug by the hands of men, to Tanis and the Sanctuary of Heracles, the Safety of Strangers. There the ship was moored, there the Wandererrested, having a good welcome from the shaven priests of the temple. 

V

MERIAMUN THE QUEEN

Strange news flies fast. It was not long before the Pharaoh, who thenwas with his Court in Tanis, the newly rebuilded city, heard how therehad come to Khem a man like a god, wearing golden armour, and cruisingalone in a ship of the dead. In these years the white barbarians of thesea and of the isles were wont to land in Egypt, to ravage the fields, carry women captive, and fly again in their ships. But not one of themhad dared to sail in the armour of the Aquaiusha, as the Egyptiansnamed the Achæans, right up the river to the city of Pharaoh. The King, therefore, was amazed at the story, and when he heard that the strangerhad taken sanctuary in the Temple of Heracles, he sent instantly for hischief counsellor. This was his Master Builder, who bore a high title inthe land, an ancient priest named Rei. He had served through the longreign of the King's father, the divine Rameses the Second, and he wasbeloved both of Meneptah and of Meriamun his Queen. Him the King chargedto visit the Sanctuary and bring the stranger before him. So Rei calledfor his mule, and rode down to the Temple of Heracles beyond the walls. 

When Rei came thither, a priest went before him and led him to thechamber where the warrior chanced to be eating the lily bread of theland, and drinking the wine of the Delta. He rose as Rei entered, and hewas still clad in his golden armour, for as yet he had not any changeof raiment. Beside him, on a bronze tripod, lay his helmet, the Achæanhelmet, with its two horns and with the bronze spear-point still fast inthe gold. 

The eyes of Rei the Priest fell on the helmet, and he gazed so strangelyat it that he scarcely heard the Wanderer's salutation. At length heanswered, courteously, but always his eyes wandered back to the brokenspear-point. 

"Is this thine, my son?" he asked, taking it in his hand, while hisvoice trembled. 

"It is my own, " said the Wanderer, "though the spear-point in itwas lent me of late, in return for arrows not a few and certainsword-strokes, " and he smiled. 

The ancient priest bade the Temple servants retire, and as they wentthey heard him murmuring a prayer. 

"The Dead spoke truth, " he muttered, still gazing from the helmet in hishand to the Wanderer; "ay, the Dead speak seldom, but they never lie. "

"My son, thou hast eaten and drunk, " then said Rei the Priest and MasterBuilder, "and may an old man ask whence thou camest, where is thy nativecity, and who are thy parents?"

"I come from Alybas, " answered the Wanderer, for his own name was toowidely known, and he loved an artful tale. "I come from Alybas; I am theson of Apheidas, son of Polypemon, and my own name is Eperitus. "

"And wherefore comest thou here alone in a ship of dead men, and withmore treasure than a king's ransom?"

"It was men of Sidon who laboured and died for all that cargo, " said theWanderer; "they voyaged far for it, and toiled hard, but they lost itin an hour. For they were not content with what they had, but made me aprisoner as I lay asleep on the coast of Crete. But the Gods gave me theupper hand of them, and I bring their captain, and much white metal andmany swords and cups and beautiful woven stuffs, as a gift to your King. And for thy courtesy, come with me, and choose a gift for thyself. "

Then he led the old man to the treasure-chambers of the Temple, whichwas rich in the offerings of many travellers, gold and turquoise andfrankincense from Sinai and Punt, great horns of carved ivory from theunknown East and South; bowls and baths of silver from the Khita, whowere the allies of Egypt. But amidst all the wealth, the stranger'scargo made a goodly show, and the old priest's eyes glittered as helooked at it. 

"Take thy choice, I pray thee, " said the Wanderer, "the spoils of foemenare the share of friends. "

The priest would have refused, but the Wanderer saw that he looked everat a bowl of transparent amber, from the far-off Northern seas, that wasembossed with curious figures of men and gods, and huge fishes, such asare unknown in the Midland waters. The Wanderer put it into the hands ofRei. 

"Thou shalt keep this, " he said, "and pledge me in wine from it when Iam gone, in memory of a friend and a guest. "

Rei took the bowl, and thanked him, holding it up to the light to admirethe golden colour. 

"We are always children, " he said, smiling gravely. "See an old childwhom thou hast made happy with a toy. But we are men too soon again;the King bids thee come with me before him. And, my son, if thou wouldstplease me more than by any gift, I pray thee pluck that spear-head fromthy helmet before thou comest into the presence of the Queen. "

"Pardon me, " said the Wanderer. "I would not harm my helmet by tearingit roughly out, and I have no smith's tools here. The spear-point, myfather, is a witness to the truth of my tale, and for one day more, ortwo, I must wear it. "

Rei sighed, bowed his head, folded his hands, and prayed to his GodAmen, saying:

"O Amen, in whose hand is the end of a matter, lighten the burden ofthese sorrows, and let the vision be easy of accomplishment, and I praythee, O Amen, let thy hand be light on thy daughter Meriamun, the Ladyof Khem. "

Then the old man led the Wanderer out, and bade the priests make readya chariot for him; and so they went through Tanis to the Court ofMeneptah. Behind them followed the priests, carrying gifts that theWanderer had chosen from the treasures of the Sidonians, and themiserable captain of the Sidonians was dragged along after them, boundto the hinder part of a chariot. Through the gazing crowd they allpassed on to the Hall of Audience, where, between the great pillars, sat Pharaoh on his golden throne. Beside him, at his right hand, wasMeriamun, the beautiful Queen, who looked at the priests with wearyeyes, as if at a matter in which she had no concern. They came inand beat the earth with their brows before the King. First came theofficers, leading the captain of the Sidonians for a gift to Pharaoh, and the King smiled graciously and accepted the slave. 

Then came others, bearing the cups of gold fashioned like the heads oflions and rams, and the swords with pictures of wars and huntings echoedon their blades in many-coloured gold, and the necklets of amber fromthe North, which the Wanderer had chosen as gifts for Pharaoh's Queenand Pharaoh. He had silks, too, embroidered in gold, and needlework ofSidonian women, and all these the Queen Meriamun touched to show heracceptance of them, and smiled graciously and wearily. But the covetousSidonian groaned, when he saw his wealth departing from him, the gainsfor which he had hazarded his life in unsailed seas. Lastly, Pharaohbade them lead the Wanderer in before his presence, and he cameunhelmeted, in all his splendour, the goodliest man that had ever beenseen in Khem. He was of no great height, but very great of girth, and ofstrength unmatched, and with the face of one who had seen what few haveseen and lived. The beauty of youth was gone from him, but his face hadthe comeliness of a warrior tried on sea and land; the eyes were of avalour invincible, and no woman could see him but she longed to be hislove. 

As he entered murmurs of amazement passed over all the company, and alleyes were fixed on him, save only the weary and wandering eyes of thelistless Meriamun. But when she chanced to lift her face, and gaze onhim, they who watch the looks of kings and queens saw her turn grey asthe dead, and clutch with her hand at her side. Pharaoh himself sawthis though he was not quick to mark what passed, and he asked her ifanything ailed her, but she answered:--

"Nay, only methinks the air is sick with heat and perfume. Greet thouthis stranger. " But beneath her robe her fingers were fretting all thewhile at the golden fringes of her throne. 

"Welcome, thou Wanderer, " cried Pharaoh, in a deep and heavy voice, "welcome! By what name art thou named, and where dwell thy people, andwhat is thy native land?"

Bowing low before Pharaoh, the Wanderer answered, with a feigned tale, that his name was Eperitus of Alybas, the son of Apheidas. The rest ofthe story, and how he had been taken by the Sidonians, and how he hadsmitten them on the seas, he told as he had told it to Rei. And hedisplayed his helmet with the spear-point fast in it. But when she sawthis Meriamun rose to her feet as if she would be gone, and then fellback into her seat even paler than before. 

"The Queen, help the Queen, she faints, " cried Rei the Priest, whoseeyes had never left her face. One of her ladies, a beautiful woman, ran to her, knelt before her, and chafed her hands, till she came toherself, and sat up with angry eyes. 

"Let be!" she said, "and let the slave who tends the incense be beatenon the feet. Nay, I will remain here, I will not to my chamber. Let be!"and her lady drew back afraid. 

Then Pharaoh bade men lead the Sidonian out, and slay him in themarket-place for his treachery; but the man, whose name was Kurri, threwhimself at the feet of the Wanderer, praying for his life. The Wandererwas merciful, when the rage of battle was over, and his blood was cool. 

"A boon, O Pharaoh Meneptah, " he cried. "Spare me this man! He savedmy own life when the crew would have cast me overboard. Let me pay mydebt. "

"Let him be spared, as thou wilt have it so, " spoke Pharaoh, "butrevenge dogs the feet of foolish mercy, and many debts are paid ere allis done. "

Thus it chanced that Kurri was given to Meriamun to be her jewellerand to work for her in gold and silver. To the Wanderer was allotted achamber in the Royal Palace, for the Pharaoh trusted that he would bea leader of his Guard, and took great pleasure in his beauty and hisstrength. 

As he left the Hall of Audience with Rei, the Queen Meriamun lifted hereyes again, and looked on him long, and her ivory face flushed rosy, like the ivory that the Sidonians dye red for the trappings of thehorses of kings. But the Wanderer marked both the sudden fear and theblush of Meriamun, and, beautiful as she was, he liked it ill, and hisheart foreboded evil. When he was alone with Rei, therefore, he spoke tohim of this, and prayed the old man to tell him if he could guess at allthe meaning of the Queen. 

"For to me, " he said, "it was as if the Lady knew my face, and evenas if she feared it; but I never saw her like in all my wanderings. Beautiful she is, and yet--but it is ill speaking in their own land ofkings and queens!"

At first, when the Wanderer spoke thus, Rei put it by, smiling. But theWanderer, seeing that he was troubled, and remembering how he had prayedhim to pluck the spear-point from his helmet, pressed him hard withquestions. Thus, partly out of weariness, and partly for love of him, and also because a secret had long been burning in his heart, the oldman took the Wanderer into his own room in the Palace, and there he toldhim all the story of Meriamun the Queen. 

VI

THE STORY OF MERIAMUN

Rei, the Priest of Amen, the Master Builder, began his story unwillinglyenough, and slowly, but soon he took pleasure in telling it as old mendo, and in sharing the burden of a secret. 

"The Queen is fair, " he said; "thou hast seen no fairer in all thyvoyagings?"

"She is fair indeed, " answered the Wanderer. "I pray that she bewell-mated and happy on her throne?"

"That is what I will tell thee of, though my life may be the price ofthe tale, " said Rei. "But a lighter heart is well worth an old man'scheap risk, and thou may'st help me and her, when thou knowest all. Pharaoh Meneptah, her lord, the King, is the son of the divine Rameses, the ever-living Pharaoh, child of the Sun, who dwelleth in Osiris. "

"Thou meanest that he is dead?" asked the Wanderer. 

"He dwelleth with Osiris, " said the Priest, "and the Queen Meriamun washis daughter by another bed. "

"A brother wed a sister!" exclaimed the Wanderer. 

"It is the custom of our Royal House, from the days of the TimelessKings, the children of Horus. An old custom. "

"The ways of his hosts are good in the eyes of a stranger, " said theWanderer, courteously. 

"It is an old custom, and a sacred, " said Rei, "but women, thecustom-makers, are often custom-breakers. And of all women, Meriamunleast loves to be obedient, even to the dead. And yet she has obeyed, and it came about thus. Her brother Meneptah--who now is Pharaoh--thePrince of Kush while her divine father lived, had many half-sisters, butMeriamun was the fairest of them all. She is beautiful, a Moon-child thecommon people called her, and wise, and she does not know the face offear. And thus it chanced that she learned, what even our Royal womenrarely learn, all the ancient secret wisdom of this ancient land. ExceptQueen Taia of old, no woman has known what Meriamun knows, what I havetaught her--I and another counsellor. "

He paused here, and his mind seemed to turn on unhappy things. 

"I have taught her from childhood, " he went on--"would that I had beenher only familiar--and, after her divine father and mother, she loved memore than any, for she loved few. But of all whom she did not love sheloved her Royal brother least. He is slow of speech, and she is quick. She is fearless and he has no heart for war. From her childhood shescorned him, mocked him, and mastered him with her tongue. She evenlearned to excel him in the chariot races--therefore it was that theKing his father made him but a General of the Foot Soldiers--and inguessing riddles, which our people love, she delighted to conquer him. The victory was easy enough, for the divine Prince is heavy-witted; butMeriamun was never tired of girding at him. Plainly, even as a littlechild she grudged that he should come to wield the scourge of power, andwear the double crown, while she should live in idleness, and hunger forcommand. "

"It is strange, then, that of all his sisters, if one must be Queen, heshould have chosen her, " said the Wanderer. 

"Strange, and it happened strangely. The Prince's father, the divineRameses, had willed the marriage. The Prince hated it no less thanMeriamun, but the will of a father is the will of the Gods. In one sportthe divine Prince excelled, in the Game of Pieces, an old game in Khem. It is no pastime for women, but even at this Meriamun was determinedto master her brother. She bade me carve her a new set of the piecesfashioned with the heads of cats, and shaped from the hard wood ofAzebi. [*] I carved them with my own hands, and night by night she playedwith me, who have some name for skill at the sport. 

 [*] Cyprus. 

"One sunset it chanced that her brother came in from hunting the lion inthe Libyan hills. He was in an evil humour, for he had found no lions, and he caused the huntsmen to be stretched out, and beaten with rods. Then he called for wine, and drank deep at the Palace gate, and thedeeper he drank the darker grew his humour. 

"He was going to his own Court in the Palace, striking with a whip athis hounds, when he chanced to turn and see Meriamun. She was sittingwhere those three great palm-trees are, and was playing at pieces withme in the cool of the day. There she sat in the shadow, clad in whiteand purple, and with the red gold of the snake of royalty in theblackness of her hair. There she sat as beautiful as the Hathor, theQueen of Love; or as the Lady Isis when she played at pieces in Amentiwith the ancient King. Nay, an old man may say it, there never wasbut one woman more fair than Meriamun, if a woman she be, she whom ourpeople call the _Strange Hathor_. "

Now the Wanderer bethought him of the tale of the pilot, but he saidnothing, and Rei went on. 

"The Prince saw her, and his anger sought for something new to breakitself on. Up he came, and I rose before him, and bowed myself. ButMeriamun fell indolently back in her chair of ivory, and with a sweep ofher slim hand she disordered the pieces, and bade her waiting woman, the lady Hataska, gather up the board, and carry all away. But Hataska'seyes were secretly watching the Prince. 

"'Greeting, Princess, our Royal sister, ' said Meneptah. 'What artthou doing with these?' and he pointed with his chariot whip at thecat-headed pieces. 'This is no woman's game, these pieces are not softhearts of men to be moved on the board by love. This game needs wit! Getthee to thy broidery, for there thou may'st excel. '

"'Greeting, Prince, our Royal brother, ' said Meriamun. 'I laugh to hearthee speak of a game that needs wit. Thy hunting has not prospered, soget thee to the banquet board, for there, I hear, the Gods have grantedthee to excel. '

"'It is little to say, ' answered the Prince, throwing himself intoa chair whence I had risen, 'it is little to say, but at the gameof pieces I have enough wit to give thee a temple, a priest and fivebowmen, and yet win, '--for these, O Wanderer, are the names of some ofthe pieces. 

"'I take the challenge, ' cried Meriamun, for now she had brought himwhere she wanted; 'but I will take no odds. Here is my wager. I willplay thee three games, and stake the sacred circlet upon my brow, against the Royal uraeus on thine, and the winner shall wear both. '

"'Nay, nay, Lady, ' I was bold to say, 'this were too high a stake. '

"'High or low, I accept the wager, ' answered the Prince. 'This sister ofmine has mocked me too long. She shall find that her woman's wit cannotmatch me at my own game, and that my father's son, the Royal Prince ofKush and the Pharaoh who shall be, is more than the equal of a girl. Ihold thy wage, Meriamun!'

"'Go then, Prince, ' she cried, 'and after sunset meet me in myantechamber. Bring a scribe to score the games; Rei shall be the judge, and hold the stakes. But beware of the golden Cup of Pasht! Drain it notto-night, lest I win a love-game, though we do not play for love!'

"The Prince went scowling away, and Meriamun laughed, but I foresawmischief. The stakes were too high, the match was too strange, butMeriamun would not listen to me, for she was very wilful. 

"The sun fell, and two hours after the Royal Prince of Kush came withhis scribe, and found Meriamun with the board of squares before her, inher antechamber. 

"He sat down without a word, then he asked, who should first take thefield. 

"'Wait, ' she said, 'first let us set the stakes, ' and lifting from herbrow the golden snake of royalty, she shook her soft hair loose, andgave the coronet to me. 'If I lose, ' she said, 'never may I wear theuraeus crown. '

"'That shalt thou never while I draw breath, ' answered the Prince, ashe too lifted the symbol of his royalty from his head and gave it to me. There was a difference between the circlets, the coronet of Meriamun wascrowned with one crested snake, that of the divine Prince was crownedwith twain. 

"'Ay, Meneptah, ' she said, 'but perchance Osiris, God of the Dead, waitsthee, for surely he loves those too great and good for earth. Take thouthe field and to the play. ' At her words of evil omen, he frowned. Buthe took the field and readily, for he knew the game well. 

"She moved in answer heedlessly enough, and afterwards she played atrandom and carelessly, pushing the pieces about with little skill. Andso he won this first game quickly, and crying, '_Pharaoh is dead_, 'swept the pieces from the board. 'See how I better thee, ' he went on inmockery. 'Thine is a woman's game; all attack and no defence. '

"'Boast not yet, Meneptah, ' she said. 'There are still two sets to play. See, the board is set and I take the field. '

"This time the game went differently, for the Prince could scarce makea prisoner of a single piece save of one temple and two bowmen only, andpresently it was the turn of Meriamun to cry '_Pharaoh is dead_, ' andto sweep the pieces from the board. This time Meneptah did not boast butscowled, while I set the board and the scribe wrote down the game uponhis tablets. Now it was the Prince's turn to take the field. 

"'In the name of holy Thoth, ' he cried, 'to whom I vow great gifts ofvictory. '

"'In the name of holy Pasht, ' she made answer, 'to whom I make dailyprayer. ' For, being a maid, she swore by the Goddess of Chastity, andbeing Meriamun, by the Goddess of Vengeance. 

"''Tis fitting thou should'st vow by her of the Cat's Head, ' he said, sneering. 

"'Yes; very fitting, ' she answered, 'for perchance she'll lend me herclaws. Play thou, Prince Meneptah. '

"And he played, and so well that for a while the game went against her. But at length, when they had struggled long, and Meriamun had lost themost of her pieces, a light came into her face as though she had foundwhat she sought. And while the Prince called for wine and drank, she layback in her chair and looked upon the board. Then she moved so shrewdlyand upon so deep a plan that he fell into the trap that she had laid forhim, and could never escape. In vain he vowed gifts to the holy Thoth, and promised such a temple as there was none in Khem. 

"'Thoth hears thee not; he is the God of lettered men, ' said Meriamun, mocking him. Then he cursed and drank more wine. 

"'Fools seek wit in wine, but only wise men find it, ' quoth she again. 'Behold, Royal brother, _Pharaoh is dead_, and I have won the match, andbeaten thee at thine own game. Rei, my servant, give me that circlet;nay, not my own, the double one, which the divine Prince wagered. So setit on my brow, for it is mine, Meneptah. In this, as in all things else, I have conquered thee. '

"And she rose, and standing full in the light of the lamps, the Royaluraeus on her brow, she mocked him, bidding him come do homage to herwho had won his crown, and stretching forth her small hand for him tokiss it. And so wondrous was her beauty that the divine Prince of Kushceased to call upon the evil Gods because of his ill fortune, and stoodgazing on her. 

"'By Ptah, but thou art fair, ' he cried, 'and I pardon my father at lastfor willing thee to be my Queen!'

"'But I will never pardon him, ' said Meriamun. 

"Now the Prince had drunk much wine. 

"'Thou shalt be my Queen, ' he said, 'and for earnest I will kiss thee. This, at the least, being the strongest, I can do. ' And ere she couldescape him, he passed his arm about her and seized her by the girdle, and kissed her on the lips and let her go. 

"Meriamun grew white as the dead. By her side there hung a dagger. Swiftly she drew it, and swiftly struck at his heart, so that had henot shrunk from the steel surely he had been slain; and she cried as shestruck, 'Thus, Prince, I pay thy kisses back. '

"But as it chanced, she only pierced his arm, and before she couldstrike again I had seized her by the hand. 

"'Thou serpent, ' said the Prince, pale with rage and fear. 'I tell theeI will kiss thee yet, whether thou wilt or not, and thou shalt pay forthis. '

"But she laughed softly now that her anger was spent, and I led himforth to seek a physician, who should bind up his wound. And when he wasgone, I returned, and spoke to her, wringing my hands. 

"'Oh, Royal Lady, what hast thou done? Thou knowest well that thy divinefather destines thee to wed the Prince of Kush whom but now thou didstsmite so fiercely. '

"'Nay, Rei, I will none of him--the dull clod, who is called the sonof Pharaoh. Moreover, he is my half-brother, and it is not meet that Ishould wed my brother. For nature cries aloud against the custom of theland. '

"'Nevertheless, Lady, it _is_ the custom of thy Royal house, and thyfather's will. Thus the Gods, thine ancestors, were wed; Isis toOsiris. Thus great Thothmes and Amenemhat did and decreed, and all theirforefathers and all their seed. Oh, bethink thee--I speak it for thineear, for I love thee as mine own daughter--bethink thee, for thou canstnot escape, that Pharaoh's bed is the step to Pharaoh's throne. Thoulovest power; here is the gate of power, and mayhap upon a time themaster of the gate shall be gone and thou shalt sit in the gate alone. '

"'Ah, Rei, now thou speakest like the counsellor of those who would bekings. Oh, did I not hate him with this hatred! And yet can I rule him. Why, 'twas no chance game that we played this night: the future lay uponthe board. See, his diadem is upon my brow! At first he won, for I chosethat he should win. Well, so mayhap it shall be; mayhap I shall givemyself to him--hating him the while. And then the next game; that shallbe for life and love and all things dear, and I shall win it, and mineshall be the uraeus crest, and mine shall be the double crown of ancientKhem, and I shall rule like Hatshepu, the great Queen of old, for I amstrong, and to the strong is victory. '

"'Yes, ' I made answer, 'but, Lady, see thou that the Gods turn not thystrength to weakness; thou art too passionate to be all strength, and ina woman's heart passion is the door by which King Folly enters. To-daythou hatest, beware, lest to-morrow thou should'st love. '

"'Love, ' she said, gazing scornfully; 'Meriamun loves not till she finda man worthy of her love. '

"'Ay, and then----?'

"'And then she loves to all destruction, and woe to them who cross herpath. Rei, farewell. '

"Then suddenly she spoke to me in another tongue, that few know save herand me, and that none can read save her and me, a dead tongue of a deadpeople, the people of that ancient City of the Rock, whence all ourfathers came. [*]

 [*] Probably the mysterious and indecipherable ancient books, which were occasionally excavated in old Egypt, were written in this dead language of a more ancient and now forgotten people. Such was the book discovered at Coptos, in the sanctuary there, by a priest of the Goddess. "The whole earth was dark, but the moon shone all about the Book. " A scribe of the period of the Ramessids mentions another indecipherable ancient writing. "Thou tellest me thou understandest no word of it, good or bad. There is, as it were, a wall about it that none may climb. Thou art instructed, yet thou knowest it not; this makes me afraid. " Birch, _Zeitschrift_, 1871, pp. 61-64. _Papyrus Anastasi_ I, pl. X. 1. 8, pl. X. 1. 4. Maspero, _Hist. Anc. _, pp. 66-67. 

"'I go, ' she said, and I trembled as she spoke, for no man speaks inthis language when he has any good thought in his heart. 'I go to seekthe counsel of That thou knowest, ' and she touched the golden snakewhich she had won. 

"Then I threw myself on the earth at her feet, and clasped her knees, crying, 'My daughter, my daughter, sin not this great sin. Nay, for allthe kingdom of the world, wake not That which sleepeth, nor warm againinto life That which is a-cold. '

"But she only nodded, and put me from her, "--and the old man's face grewpale as he spoke. 

"What meant she?" said the Wanderer. 

"Nay, wake not _thou_ That which sleepeth, Wanderer, " he said, atlength. "My tongue is sealed. I tell thee more that I would tellanother. Do not ask, --but hark! They come again! Now may Ra and Pashtand Amen curse them; may the red swine's mouth of Set gnaw upon them inAmenti; may the Fish of Sebek flesh his teeth of stone in them for ever, and feed and feed again!"

"Why dost thou curse thus, Rei, and who are they that go by?" said theWanderer. "I hear their tramping and their song. "

Indeed there came a light noise of many shuffling feet, patteringoutside the Palace wall, and the words of a song rang out triumphantly:

 The Lord our God He doth sign and wonder, Tokens He shows in the land of Khem, He hath shattered the pride of the Kings asunder And casteth His shoe o'er the Gods of them! He hath brought forth frogs in their holy places, He hath sprinkled the dust upon crown and hem, He hath hated their kings and hath darkened their faces; Wonders He works in the land of Khem. 

"These are the accursed blaspheming conjurors and slaves, the Apura, "said Rei, as the music and the tramping died away. "Their magic isgreater than the lore even of us who are instructed, for their leaderwas one of ourselves, a shaven priest, and knows our wisdom. Never dothey march and sing thus but evil comes of it. Ere day dawn we shallhave news of them. May the Gods destroy them, they are gone for thehour. It were well if Meriamun the Queen would let them go for ever, asthey desire, to their death in the desert, but she hardens the King'sheart. "

VII

THE QUEEN'S VISION

There was silence without at last; the clamour and the tread of theApura were hushed in the distance, dying far away, and Rei grew calm, when he heard no longer the wild song, and the clashing of the timbrels. 

"I must tell thee, Eperitus, " he said, "how the matter ended between thedivine Prince and Meriamun. She bowed her pride before her father andher brother: her father's will was hers; she seemed to let her secretsleep, and she set her own price on her hand. In everything she must bethe equal of Pharaoh--that was her price; and in all the temples and allthe cities she was to be solemnly proclaimed joint heir with him of theUpper and Lower Land. The bargain was struck and the price waspaid. After that night over the game of pieces Meriamun was changed. Thenceforth she did not mock at the Prince, she made herself gentle andsubmissive to his will. 

"So the time drew on till at length in the beginning of the rising ofthe waters came the day of her bridal. With a mighty pomp was Pharaoh'sdaughter wedded to Pharaoh's son. But her hand was cold as she stoodat the altar, cold as the hand of one who sleeps in Osiris. Proudly andcoldly she sat in the golden chariot passing in and out the great gatesof Tanis. Only when she listened and heard the acclaiming thousands cry_Meriamun_ so loudly that the cry of _Meneptah_ was lost in the echoesof her name--then only did she smile. 

"Cold, too, she sat in her white robes at the feast that Pharaoh made, and she never looked at the husband by her side, though he looked kindlyon her. 

"The feast was long, but it ended at last, and then came the music andthe singers, but Meriamun, making excuse, rose and went out, attended byher ladies. And I also, weary and sad at heart, passed thence to my ownchamber and busied myself with the instruments of my art, for, stranger, I build the houses of gods and kings. 

"Presently, as I sat, there came a knocking at the door, and a womanentered wrapped in a heavy cloak. She put aside the cloak, and before mewas Meriamun in all her bridal robes. 

"'Heed me not, Rei, ' she said, 'I am yet free for an hour; and I wouldwatch thee at thy labour. Nay, it is my humour; gainsay me not, for Ilove well to look on that wrinkled face of thine, scored by the cunningchisel of thy knowledge and thy years. So from a child have I watchedthee tracing the shapes of mighty temples that shall endure whenourselves, and perchance the very Gods we worship, have long sinceceased to be. Ah, Rei, thou wise man, thine is the better part, for thoubuildest in cold enduring stone and attirest thy walls as thy fancy bidsthee. But I--I build in the dust of human hearts, and my will is writtenin their dust. When I am dead, raise me a tomb more beautiful than everhas been known, and write upon the portal, _Here, in the last temple ofher pride, dwells that tired builder, Meriamun, the Queen_. '

"Thus she talked wildly in words with little reason. 

"'Nay, speak not so, ' I said, 'for is it not thy bridal night? What dostthou here at such a time?'

"'What do I here? Surely I come to be a child again! See, Rei, in allwide Khem there is no woman so shamed, so lost, so utterly undone as isto-night the Royal Meriamun, whom thou lovest. I am lower than she whoplies the street for bread, for the loftier the spirit the greater isthe fall. I am sold into shame, and power is my price. Oh, cursed be thefate of woman who only by her beauty can be great. Oh, cursed be thatancient Counsellor thou wottest of, and cursed be I who wakened Thatwhich slept, and warmed That which was a-cold in my breath and in mybreast! And cursed be this sin to which he led me! Spurn me, Rei; strikeme on the cheek, spit upon me, on Meriamun, the Royal harlot who sellsherself to win a crown. Oh, I hate him, hate him, and I will pay him inshame for shame--him, the clown in king's attire. See here, '--and fromher robe she drew a white flower that was known to her and me--'twiceto-day have I been minded with this deadly blossom to make an end of me, and of all my shame, and all my empty greed of glory. But this thoughthas held my hand: I, Meriamun, will live to look across his grave andbreak his images, and beat out the writings of his name from everytemple wall in Khem, as they beat out the hated name of Hatshepu. I----'and suddenly she burst into a rain of tears; she who was not wont toweep. 

"'Nay, touch me not, ' she said. 'They were but tears of anger. Meriamunis mistress of her Fate, not Fate of Meriamun. And now, my lord awaitsme, and I must be gone. Kiss me on the brow, old friend, whilst yet Iam the Meriamun thou knewest, and then kiss me no more for ever. At theleast this is well for thee, for when Meriamun is Queen of Khem thoushalt be first in all the land, and stand on the footsteps of my throne. Farewell. ' And she gathered up her raiment and cast her white flower ofdeath in the flame of the brazier, and was gone, leaving me yet sadderat heart. For now I knew that she was not as other women are, butgreater for good or evil. 

"On the morrow night I sat again at my task, and again there came aknocking at the door, and again a woman entered and threw aside herwrappings. It was Meriamun. She was pale and stern, and as I rose shewaved me back. 

"'Has, then, the Prince--thy husband----' I stammered. 

"'Speak not to me of the Prince, Rei, my servant, ' she made answer. 'Yesterday I spoke to thee wildly, my mind was overwrought; let it beforgotten--a wife am I, a happy wife'; and she smiled so strangely thatI shrunk back from her. 

"'Now to my errand. I have dreamed a dream, a troublous dream, and thouart wise and instructed, therefore I pray thee interpret my vision. Islept and dreamed of a man, and in my dream I loved him more than I cantell. For my heart beat to his heart, and in the light of him I lived, and all my soul was his, and I knew that I loved him for ever. AndPharaoh was my husband; but, in my dream, I loved him not. Now therecame a woman rising out of the sea, more beautiful than I, with a beautyfairer and more changeful than the dawn upon the mountains; and she, too, loved this godlike man, and he loved her. Then we strove togetherfor his love, matching beauty against beauty, and wit against wit, andmagic against magic. Now one conquered, and now the other; but in theend the victory was mine, and I went arrayed as for a marriage-bed--andI clasped a corpse. 

"'I woke, and again I slept, and saw myself wearing another garb, andspeaking another tongue. Before me was the man I loved, and there, too, was the woman, wrapped about with beauty, and I was changed, and yetI was the very Meriamun thou seest. And once more we struggled for themastery and for this man's love, and in that day she conquered me. 

"'I slept, and again I woke, and in another land than Khem--a strangeland, and yet methought I knew it from long ago. There I dwelt among thegraves, and dark faces were about me, and I wore That thou knowest for agirdle. And the tombs of the rock wherein we dwelt were scored with thewritings of a dead tongue--the tongue of that land whence our fatherscame. We were all changed, yet the same, and once more the woman and Istruggled for the mastery, and though I seemed to conquer, yet a sea offire came over me, and I woke and I slept again. 

"'Then confusion was piled upon confusion, nor can my memory hold allthat came to pass. For this game played itself afresh in lands, andlives, and tongues without number. Only the last bout and the winnerwere not revealed to me. 

"'And in my dream I cried aloud to the protecting Gods to escape out ofthe dream, and I sought for light that I might see whence these thingswere. Then, as in a vision, the Past opened up its gates. It seemed thatupon a time, thousand, thousand ages agone, I and this man of my dreamhad arisen from nothingness and looked in each other's eyes, and lovedwith a love unspeakable, and vowed a vow that shall endure from time totime and world to world. For we were not mortal then, but partook of thenature of the Gods, being more fair and great than any of human kind, and our happiness was the happiness of Heaven. But in our great joy wehearkened to the Voice of the That thou knowest, of that Thing, Rei, with which, against thy counsel, I have but lately dealt. The kiss ofour love awakened That which slept, the fire of our love warmed Thatwhich was a-cold! We defied the holy Gods, worshipping them not, butrather each the other, for we knew that as the Gods we were eternal. Andthe Gods were angered against us and drew us up into their presence. Andwhile we trembled they spake as with a voice:

"'"Ye twain who are one life, each completing each, because with yourkisses ye have wakened That which slept, and with the fire of your lovehave warmed That which was a-cold: because ye have forgotten them thatgave you life and love and joy: hearken to your Doom!

"'"From Two be ye made _Three_, and through all Time strive ye to beTwain again. Pass from this Holy Place down to the Hell of Earth, andthough ye be immortal put on the garments of mortality. Pass on fromLife to Life, live and love and hate and seem to die: have acquaintancewith every lot, and in your blind forgetfulness, being one and beingequal, work each other's woe according to the law of Earth, and for yourlove's sake sin and be shamed, perish and re-arise, appear to conquerand be conquered, pursuing your threefold destiny, and, at the word ofFate, the unaltering circle meets, and the veil of blindness falls fromyour eyes, and, as a scroll, your folly is unrolled, and the hid purposeof your sorrow is accomplished and once more ye are Twain and One. "

"'Then, as we trembled, clinging each to each, again the great Voicespoke:

"'"Ye twain who are One--let That to which ye have hearkened divide youand enfold you! Be ye Three!"

"'And as the Voice spoke I was torn with agony, and strength went out ofme, and there, by him I loved, stood the woman of my dream crowned withevery glory and adorned with the Star. And we were three. And betweenhim and me, yet enfolding him and me, writhed that Thing thou wottestof. And he whom I loved turned to look upon the fair woman, wondering, and she smiled and stretched out her arm towards him as one who wouldtake that which is her own, and Rei, in that hour, though it was but ina dream, I knew the mortal pain of jealousy, and awoke trembling. And now read thou this vision, Rei, thou who art learned in theinterpretation of dreams and in the ways of sleep. '

"'Oh, Lady, ' I made answer, 'this thing is too high for me, I cannotinterpret it; but where thou art, there may I be to help thee. '

"'I know thy love, ' she said, 'but in thy words is little light. So--so--let it pass! It was but a dream, and if indeed it came from theUnder World, why, it was from no helpful God, but rather from Set, theTormentor; or from Pasht, the Terrible, who throws the creeping shadowof her doom upon the mirror of my sleep. For that which is decreed willsurely come to pass! I am blown like the dust by the breath of Fate; nowto rest upon the Temple's loftiest tops, now to be trodden underfoot ofslaves, and now to be swallowed by the bitter deep, and in season thencerolled forth again. I love not this lord of mine, who shall be Pharaoh, and never may _he_ come whom I shall love. 'Tis well that I love himnot, for to love is to be a slave. When the heart is cold then the handis strong, and I am fain to be the Queen leading Pharaoh by the beard, the first of all the ancient land of Khem; for I was not born to serve. Nay, while I may, I rule, awaiting the end of rule. Look forth, Rei, andsee how the rays from Mother Isis' throne flood all the courts and allthe city's streets and break in light upon the water's breast. So shallthe Moon-child's flame flood all this land of Khem. What matters it, ifere the morn Isis must pass to her dominion of the Dead, and the voiceof Meriamun be hushed within a sepulchre?'

"So she spoke and went thence, and on her face was no bride's smile, butrather such a gaze as that with which the great sphinx, Horemku, looksout across the desert sands. "

"A strange Queen, Rei, " said the Wanderer, as he paused, "but what haveI to make in this tale of a bride and her mad dreams?"

"More than thou shalt desire, " said Rei; "but let us come to the end, and thou shalt hear thy part in the Fate. "

VIII

THE KA, THE BAI, AND THE KHOU

"The Divine Pharaoh Rameses died and was gathered to Osiris. With thesehands I closed his coffin and set him in his splendid tomb, where heshall rest unharmed for ever till the day of the awakening. And Meriamunand Meneptah reigned in Khem. But to Pharaoh she was very cold, thoughhe did her will in everything, and they had but one child, so that in awhile he wearied of her loveliness. 

"But hers was the master-mind, and she ruled Pharaoh as she ruled allelse. 

"For me, my lot was bettered; she talked much with me, and advanced meto great dignity, so that I was the first Master Builder in Khem, andCommander of the legion of Amen. 

"Now it chanced that Meriamun made a feast, where she entertainedPharaoh and Hataska sat beside him. She was the first lady about theQueen's person, a beautiful but insolent woman, who had gained Pharaoh'sfavour for the hour. Now wine worked so with the King that he toyedopenly with the lady Hataska's hand, but Meriamun the Queen took nonote, though Hataska, who had also drunk of the warm wine of the LowerLand, grew insolent, as was her wont. She quaffed deep from her cupof gold, and bade a slave bear it to the Queen, crying, 'Pledge me, mysister. '

"The meaning of her message was plain to all who heard; this waitinglady openly declared herself wife to Pharaoh and an equal of the Queen. Now Meriamun cared nothing for Pharaoh's love, but for power she didcare, and she frowned, while a light shone in her dark eyes; yet shetook the cup and touched it with her lips. 

"Presently she lifted her own cup in turn and toyed with it, then madepretence to drink, and said softly to the King's paramour, who hadpledged her:

"'Pledge me in answer, Hataska, my servant, for soon, methinks, thoushalt be greater than the Queen. '

"Now this foolish woman read her saying wrong, and took the golden cupfrom the eunuch who bore it. 

"With a little nod to the Queen, and a wave of her slim hand, Hataskadrank, and instantly, with a great cry, she fell dead across the board. Then, while all the company sat in terror, neither daring to be silentnor to speak, and while Meriamun smiled scornfully on the dark headlying low among the roses on the board, Pharaoh leaped up, mad withwrath, and called to the guards to seize the Queen. But she waved themback, and, speaking in a slow, cold voice, she said:

"'Dare not to touch Khem's anointed Queen lest your fate be as _her_fate. For thee, Meneptah, forget not thy marriage oath. What, am IQueen, and shall thy wantons throw their insolence in my teeth and nameme their sister? Not so, for if my eyes be blind yet my ears are open. Peace, she is rightly served--choose thou a lowlier mistress!'

"And Pharaoh made no answer, for he feared her with an ever-growingfear. But she, sinking back in her seat of state, played with the goldkepher on her breast, and watched them bear the body forth to the Houseof Osiris. One by one all the company made obeisance and passed thence, glad to be gone, till at the last there were left only Pharaoh andMeriamun the Queen, and myself--Rei the Priest--for all were muchafraid. Then Pharaoh spoke, looking neither at her nor at me, and halfin fear, half in anger. 

"'Thou hateful woman, accursed be the day when first I looked upon thybeauty. Thou hast conquered me, but beware, for I am still Pharaoh andthy Lord. Cross my purpose once again, and, by Him who sleeps at Philæ, I will discrown thee and give thy body to the tormentors, and set thysoul loose to follow her whom thou hast slain. '

"Then Meriamun answered proudly:

"'Pharaoh, be warned: lift but one finger against my majesty and thouart doomed. Thou canst not slay me, but I can over-match thee, and Iswear by the same oath! By Him who sleeps at Philæ, lift a hand againstme, ay, harbour one thought of treachery, and thou diest. Not lightlycan I be deceived, for I have messengers that thou canst not hear. Something, Royal Meneptah, do I know of the magic of that Queen Taia whowas before me. Now listen--do this one thing and all shall be well. Go on thy path and leave me to follow mine. Queen I am, Queen I willremain, and in all matters of the State mine must be an equal voicethough it is thine that speaks. And, for the rest, we are aparthenceforth, for thou fearest me, and Meneptah, I love not thee, nor anyman. '

"'As thou hast spoken, so be it, ' quoth Pharaoh, for his heart sank, andhis fear came back upon him. 'Evil was the day when first we met, andthis is the price of my desire. Henceforth we are apart in bed andboard, but in the council we are still one, for our ends are one. I knowthy power, Meriamun, thou gifted of the evil Gods; thou needest not fearthat I shall seek to slay thee, for a spear cast against the heavensreturns on him who threw it. Rei, my servant, thou art witness to ouroaths; hear now their undoing. Meriamun, the Queen of ancient Khem, thouart no more wife of mine. Farewell. '

"And he went heavily and stricken with fear. 

"'Nay, ' she said, gazing after him, 'no more am I Meneptah's wife, butstill am I Khem's dreaded Queen. Oh, thou old priest, I am aweary. Seewhat a lot is mine, who have all things but love, and yet am sick ofall! I longed for power, and power is mine, and what is power? It isa rod wherewith we beat the air that straightway closes on the stroke. Yes, I tire of my loveless days and of this dull round of common things. Oh, for one hour of love and in that hour to die! Oh that the futurewould lift its veil and disclose the face of time to be! Say, Rei! Wiltthou be bold and dare a deed?' And she clasped me by the sleeve andwhispered in my ear, in the dead tongue known to her and me--'Her Islew--thou sawest----'

"'Ay, Queen, I saw--what of her? 'Twas ill done. '

"'Nay, 'twas rightly done and well done. But thou knowest she is notyet cold, nor for a while will be, and I have the art to drag her spiritback ere she be cold, from where she is, and to force knowledge from herlips--for being an Osiris all the future is open to her in this hour. '

"'Nay, nay, ' I cried. 'It is unholy--not lightly may we disturb thedead, lest the Guardian Gods be moved to anger. '

"'Yet will I do it, Rei. If thou dost fear, come not. But I go. I amfain for knowledge, and thus only may I win it. If I die in the dreadendeavour, write this of Meriamun the Queen: That in seeking theto-be--she found it!'

"'Nay, Royal Lady, ' I answered, 'thou shalt not go alone. I too havesome skill in magic, and perchance can ward evil from thee. So, ifindeed thou wilt dare this dreadful thing, behold now, as ever, I am thyservant. '

"'It is well. See, now, the body will this night be laid in thesanctuary of the Temple of Osiris that is near the great gates, as isthe custom, to await the coming of the embalmers. Come ere she be colderthan my heart, come with me, Rei, to the house of the Lord of the Dead!'

"She passed to her chamber, wrapped herself about in a dark robe, andhurried with me to the Temple doors, where we were challenged by theguards. 

"'Who passes? In the name of the Holy Osiris speak. '

"'Rei, the Master Builder and the anointed Priest, and with himanother, ' I made answer. 'Open. '

"'Nay, I open not. There is one within who may not be wakened. '

"'Who, then, is within?'

"'She whom the Queen slew. '

"'The Queen sends one who would look on her she slew. '

"Then the priest gazed on the hooded form beside me and started back, crying, 'A token, noble Rei. '

"I held up the Royal signet, and, bowing, he opened. Being come withinthe Temple I lit the tapers that had been prepared. Then by their feeblelight we passed through the outer hall till we came to the curtains thatveil the sanctuary of the Holy Place, and here I quenched the tapers;for no fire must enter there, save that which burns upon the altar ofthe dead. But through the curtains came rays of light. 

"'Open!' said Meriamun, and I opened, and hand in hand we passed in. Onthe altar that is in the place the flame burnt brightly. The chamber isnot wide and great, for this is the smallest of the temples of Tanis, but yet so large that the light could not reach its walls nor piercethe overhanging gloom, and by much gazing scarcely could we discover theoutline of the graven shapes of the Holy Gods that are upon the walls. But the light fell clear upon the great statue of the Osiris that wasseated behind the altar fashioned in the black stone of Syene, woundabout with the corpse-cloths, wearing on his head the crown of theUpper Land, and holding in his hands the crook of divinity and the awfulscourge of punishment. The light shone all about the white and dreadfulshape that was placed upon his holy knees, the naked shape of lostHataska who this night had died at the hand of Meriamun. There she bowedher head against the sacred breast, her long hair streaming down oneither side, her arms tied across her heart, and her eyes, whence thehues of life had scarcely faded, widely staring at the darkness of theshrine. For at Tanis to this day it is the custom for a night to placethose of high birth or office who die suddenly upon the knees of thestatue of Osiris. 

"'See, ' I said to the Queen, speaking low, for the weight of the hauntedplace sank into my heart, 'see how she who scarce an hour ago was buta lovely wanton hath by thine act been clad in majesty greater than allthe glory of the earth. Bethink thee, wilt thou dare indeed to summonback the spirit to the body whence thou hast set it free? Not easily, OQueen, may it be done for all thy magic, and if perchance she answereththee, it may well be that the terror of her words shall utterlyo'erwhelm us. '

"'Nay, ' she made answer, 'I am instructed. I fear not. I know by whatname to call the Khou that hovers on the threshold of the Double Hallof Truth, and how to send it back to its own place. I fear not, butif perchance thou fearest, Rei, depart hence and leave me to the taskalone. '

"'Nay, ' I said. 'I also am instructed, and I go not. But I say to theethat this is unholy. '

"Then Meriamun spoke no more--but lifting up her hands she held themheavenwards, and so for a while she stood, her face fixed, as was theface of dead Hataska. Then, as must be done, I drew the circle round usand round the altar and the statue of Osiris, and that which sat uponhis knee. With my staff I drew it, and standing therein I said the holywords which should ward away the evil things that come near in such anhour. 

"Now Meriamun threw a certain powder into the flame upon the altar. Thrice she threw the powder, and as she threw it a ball of flame rosefrom the altar and floated away, each time that she threw did the ballof fire rise; and this it was needful to do, for by fire only may thedead be manifest, and therefore was a globe of fire given to each of thethree shapes that together make the threefold spirit of the dead. Andwhen the three globes of fire had melted into air, passing over the headof the statue of Osiris, thrice did Meriamun cry aloud:

"'_Hataska! Hataska! Hataska!_

"'By the dreadful Name I summon thee. 

"'I summon thee from the threshold of the Double Hall. 

"'I summon thee from the Gates of Judgment. 

"'I summon thee from the door of Doom. 

"'By the link of life and death that is between thee and me, I bid theecome from where thou art and make answer to that which I shall ask ofthee. '

"She ceased, but no answer came. Still the cold Osiris smiled, and stillthe body on his knee sat with open eyes gazing into nothingness. 

"'Not thus easily, ' I whispered, 'may this dreadful thing be done. Thouart instructed in the Word of Fear. If thou darest, let it pass thylips, or let us be gone. '

"'Nay, it shall be spoken, ' she said--and thus she wrought. Passing tothe statue she hid her head within her cloak and with both hands graspedthe feet of the slain Hataska. 

"Seeing this I also crouched upon the floor and hid my face, for it isdeath to hear that Word with an uncovered face. 

"Then in so soft a whisper that scarce had its breath stirred a featheron her lips, Meriamun spoke the Word of Fear which may not be written, whose sound has power to pass all space and open the ears of the deadwho dwell in Amenti. Softly she said it, for in a shout of thunder itwas caught up and echoed from her lips, and down the eternal halls itseemed to rush on the feet of storm and the wings of wind, so thatthe roof rocked and the deep foundations of the Temple quivered like awind-stirred tree. 

"'Unveil, ye mortals!' cried a dreadful voice, 'and look upon the sightof fear that ye have dared to summon. '

"And I rose and cast my cloak from about my face and gazed, then sankdown in terror. For round about the circle that I had drawn pressed allthe multitude of the dead; countless as the desert sands they pressed, gazing with awful eyes upon us twain. And the fire that was on the altardied away, but yet was there light, for it shone from those dead eyes, and in the eyes of lost Hataska there was light. 

"And ever the faces changed, never for one beat of time did they ceaseto change. For as we gazed upon a face it would melt, even to the eyes, and round these same eyes again would gather but no more the same. Andlike the sloping sides of pyramids were the faces set about us from theground to the Temple roof--and on us were fixed their glowing eyes. 

"And I, Rei, being instructed, knew that to suffer myself to be overcomewith terror was death, as it was death to pass without the circle. So inmy heart I called upon Osiris, Lord of the Dead, to protect us, and evenas I named the ineffable name, lo! all the thousand thousand faces bentthemselves in adoration and then, turning, looked each upon the othereven as though each spake to each, and changed, and swiftly changed. 

"'Meriamun, ' I said, gathering up my strength, 'fear not, but beware!'

"'Nay, wherefore should I fear, ' she answered, 'because the veil ofsense is torn, and for an hour we see those who are ever about our pathand whose eyes watch our most secret thought continually? I fear not. 'And she stepped boldly, even to the edge of the circle, and cried:

"'All hail, ye Sahus, spirits of the awful dead, among whom I also shallbe numbered. '

"And as she came the changing faces shrunk away, leaving a space beforeher. And in the space there grew two arms, mighty and black, thatstretched themselves towards her, until there was not the length ofthree grains of wheat betwixt the clutching fingers and her breast. 

"But Meriamun only laughed and drew back a space. 

"'Not so, thou Enemy, ' she said, 'this circle thou may'st not break; itis too strong for thee. But to the work. Hataska, once again by the linkof life and death I summon thee--and this time thou must come, thou whowast a wanton and now art "greater than the Queen. "'

"And as she spoke, from the dead form of the woman on Osiris' knee thereissued forth another form and stood before us, as a snake issues fromits slough. And as was the dead Hataska so was this form, feature forfeature, look for look, and limb for limb. But still the corpse restedupon Osiris' knee, for this was but the _Ka_ that stood before us. 

"And thus spoke the voice of Hataska in the lips of the Ka:

"'What wouldest thou with me who am no more of thy company, O thou bywhose hand my body did perish? Why troublest thou me?'

"And Meriamun made answer: 'I would this of thee, that thou shouldestdeclare unto me the future, even in the presence of this great company. Speak, I command thee. '

"And the Ka said: 'Nay, Meriamun, that I cannot do, for I am but theKa--the Dweller in the Tomb, the guardian of what was Hataska whomthou didst slay, whom I must watch through all the days of death tillresurrection is. Of the future I know naught; seek thou that whichknows. '

"'Stand thou on one side, ' quoth the Queen, and the Dweller in the Tombobeyed. 

"Then once more she called upon Hataska and there came a sound ofrushing wings. And behold, on the head of the statue of Osiris sat agreat bird, feathered as it were with gold. But the bird had the head ofa woman, and the face was fashioned as the face of Hataska. And thus itspoke, that was the _Bai_:

"'What wouldest thou with me, Meriamun, who am no more of thy company?Why dost thou draw me from the Under World, thou by whose hand my bodydid perish?'

"And Meriamun said: 'This I would of thee, that thou shouldest declareunto me the future. Speak, I command thee. '

"And the Bai said: 'Nay, Meriamun, that I cannot do. I am but the Baiof her who was Hataska, and I fly from Death to Life and Life to Death, till the hour of awakening is. Of the future I know naught; seek thouthat which knows. '

"'Rest thou where thou art, ' quoth the Queen, and there it rested, awfulto see. 

"Then once more Meriamun called upon Hataska, bidding her hear thesummons where she was. 

"And behold the eyes of the Dead One that was upon the knee of Osirisglowed, and glowed the eyes of the Dweller in the Tomb, and of thewinged Messenger who sat above. And then there was a sound as the soundof wind, and from above, cleaving the darkness, descended a Tongue ofFlame and rested on the brow of the dead Hataska. And the eyes of allthe thousand thousand spirits turned and gazed upon the Tongue of Flame. And then dead Hataska spoke--though her lips moved not, yet she spoke. And this she said:

"'What wouldest thou with me, Meriamun, who am no more of thy company?Why dost thou dare to trouble me, thou by whose hand my body did perish, drawing me from the threshold of the Double Hall of Truth, back to theOver World?'

"And Meriamun the Queen said, 'Oh, thou _Khou_, for this purpose have Icalled thee. I am aweary of my days and I fain would learn the future. The future fain would I learn, but the forked tongue of That whichsleeps tells me no word, and the lips of That which is a-cold are dumb!Tell me, then, thou, I charge thee by the word that has power to openthe lips of the dead, thou who in all things art instructed, what shallbe the burden of my days?'

"And the dread Khou made answer: 'Love shall be the burden of thy days, and Death shall be the burden of thy love. Behold one draws near fromout the North whom thou hast loved, whom thou shalt love from life tolife, till all things are accomplished. Bethink thee of a dream thatthou dreamedst as thou didst lie on Pharaoh's bed, and read its riddle. Meriamun, thou art great and thy name is known upon the earth, and inAmenti is thy name known. High is thy fate, and through blood and sorrowshalt thou find it. I have spoken, let me hence. '

"'It is well, ' the Queen made answer: 'But not yet mayest thou go hence. First I command thee, by the word of dread and by the link of life anddeath, declare unto me if here upon the earth and in this life I shallpossess him whom I shall love?'

"'In sin and craft and sorrow, Meriamun, thou shalt possess him; inshame and jealous agony he shall be taken from thee by one who isstronger than thou, though thou art strong; by one more beautiful thanthou, though thou art beautiful; and ruin thou shalt give him for hisguerdon, and ruin of the heart shalt thou harvest for thy portion. Butfor this time she shall escape thee, whose footsteps march with thine, and with his who shall be thine and hers. Nevertheless, in a day to comethou shalt pay her back measure for measure, and evil for evil. I havespoken. Let me hence. '

"'Not yet, O Khou--not yet. I have still to learn. Show me the face ofher who is mine enemy, and the face of him who is my love. '

"'Thrice mayest thou speak to me, O thou greatly daring, ' answered thedread Khou, 'and thrice I may make reply, and then farewell till I meetthee on the threshold of the hall whence thou hast drawn me. Look now onthe face of that Hataska whom thou slewest. '

"And we looked, and behold the face of dead Hataska changed, and changedthe face of the Double, the _Ka_ that stood on one side, and the faceof the great bird, the _Bai_, that spread his wings about the head ofOsiris. And they grew beautiful, yes, most exceeding beautiful so thatit cannot be told, and the beauty was that of a woman asleep. Then lo, there hung above Hataska, as it were, the shadow of one who was watchingher sleeping. And his face we saw not, O thou Wanderer, it was hidden bythe visor of a golden two-horned helm, and in that helm stood fast _thebronze point of a broken spear_! But he was clad in the armour of thepeople of the Northern Sea, the Aquaiusha, and his hair fell dark abouthis shoulders like the petals of the hyacinth flower. 

"'Behold thine enemy and behold thy love! Farewell, ' said the dreadKhou, speaking through dead Hataska's lips, and as the words died thebeauty faded and the Tongue of Flame shot upwards and was lost, and oncemore the eyes of the thousand thousand dead turned and looked upon eachother, even as though their lips whispered each to each. 

"But for a while Meriamun stood silent, as one amazed. Then, awaking, she waved her hand and cried, 'Begone, thou _Bai_! Begone, thou _Ka_!'

"And the great bird whereof the face was as the face of Hataska spreadhis golden wings and passed away to his own place, and the Ka thatwas in the semblance of Hataska drew near to the dead one's knees, andpassed back into her from whom she came. And all the thousand thousandfaces melted though the fiery eyes still gazed upon us. 

"Then Meriamun covered her head and once more spoke the awful Word, andI also covered up my head. But, as must be done, this second time shecalled the Word aloud, and yet though she called it loud, it came butas a tiny whisper from her lips. Nevertheless, at the sound of it, oncemore was the Temple shaken as by a storm. 

"Then Meriamun unveiled, and behold, again the fire burned upon thealtar, and on the knees of the Osiris sat Hataska, cold and still indeath, and round them was emptiness and silence. 

"'Now that all is done, I greatly fear for that which has been, and thatwhich shall be. Lead me hence, O Rei, son of Pames, for I can no more. '

"And so with a heavy heart I led her forth, who of all sorceressesis the very greatest. Behold, thou Wanderer, wherefore the Queen wastroubled at the coming of the man in the armour of the North, in whosetwo-horned golden helm stands fast the point of a broken spear. "

BOOK II

I

THE PROPHETS OF THE APURA

"These things are not without the Gods, " said the Wanderer, who wascalled Eperitus, when he had heard all the tale of Rei the Priest, sonof Pames, the Head Architect, the Commander of the Legion of Amen. Thenhe sat silent for a while, and at last raised his eyes and looked uponthe old man. 

"Thou hast told a strange tale, Rei. Over many a sea have I wandered, and in many a land I have sojourned. I have seen the ways of manypeoples, and have heard the voices of the immortal Gods. Dreams havecome to me and marvels have compassed me about. It has been laid upon meto go down into Hades, that land which thou namest Amenti, and to lookon the tribes of the Dead; but never till now have I known so strangea thing. For mark thou, when first I beheld this fair Queen of thine Ithought she looked upon me strangely, as one who knew my face. And now, Rei, if thou speakest truth, _she_ deems that she has met me in theways of night and magic. Say, then, who was the man of the vision of theQueen, the man with dark and curling locks, clad in golden armour afterthe fashion of the Achæans whom ye name the Aquaiusha, wearing on hishead a golden helm, wherein was fixed a broken spear?"

"Before me sits such a man, " said Rei, "or perchance it is a God that myeyes behold. "

"No God am I, " quoth the Wanderer, smiling, "though the Sidonians deemedme nothing less when the black bow twanged and the swift shafts flew. Read me the riddle, thou that art instructed. "

Now the aged Priest looked upon the ground, then turned his eyes upward, and with muttering lips prayed to Thoth, the God of Wisdom. And when hehad made an end of prayer he spoke. 

"_Thou_ art the man, " he said. "Out of the sea thou hast come to bringthe doom of love on the Lady Meriamun and on thyself the doom of death. This I knew, but of the rest I know nothing. Now, I pray thee, oh thouwho comest in the armour of the North, thou whose face is clothed inbeauty, and who art of all men the mightiest and hast of all men thesweetest and most guileful tongue, go back, go back into the sea whencethou camest, and the lands whence thou hast wandered. "

"Not thus easily may men escape their doom, " quoth the Wanderer. "Mydeath may come, as come it must; but know this, Rei, I do not seek thelove of Meriamun. "

"Then it well may chance that thou shalt find it, for ever those whoseek love lose, and those who seek not find. "

"I am come to seek another love, " said the Wanderer, "and I seek hertill I die. "

"Then I pray the Gods that thou mayest find her, and that Khem may thusbe saved from sorrow. But here in Egypt there is no woman so fair asMeriamun, and thou must seek farther as quickly as may be. And now, Eperitus, behold I must away to do service in the Temple of the HolyAmen, for I am his High Priest. But I am commanded by Pharaoh first tobring thee to the feast at the Palace. "

Then he led the Wanderer from his chamber and brought him by a sideentrance to the great Palace of the Pharaoh at Tanis, near the Templeof Ptah. And first he took him to a chamber that had been made ready forhim in the Palace, a beautiful chamber, richly painted with beast-headedGods and furnished with ivory chairs, and couches of ebony and silver, and with a gilded bed. 

Then the Wanderer went into the shining baths, and dark-eyed girlsbathed him and anointed him with fragrant oil, and crowned him withlotus flowers. When they had bathed him they bade him lay aside hisgolden armour and his bow and the quiver full of arrows, but this theWanderer would not do, for as he laid the black bow down it thrilledwith a thin sound of war. So Rei led him, armed as he was, to a certainantechamber, and there he left him, saying that he would return againwhen the feast was done. Trumpets blared as the Wanderer waited, drumsrolled, and through the wide thrown curtains swept the lovely Meriamunand the divine Pharaoh Meneptah, with many lords and ladies of theCourt, all crowned with roses and with lotus blooms. 

The Queen was decked in Royal attire, her shining limbs were veiled inbroidered silk; about her shoulders was a purple robe, and round herneck and arms were rings of well-wrought gold. She was stately andsplendid to see, with pale brows and beautiful disdainful eyes wheredreams seemed to sleep beneath the shadow of her eyelashes. On she sweptin all her state and pride of beauty, and behind her came the Pharaoh. He was a tall man, but ill-made and heavy-browed, and to the Wanderer itseemed that he was heavy-hearted too, and that care and terror of evilto come were always in his mind. 

Meriamun looked up swiftly. 

"Greeting, Stranger, " she said. "Thou comest in warlike guise to graceour feast. "

"Methought, Royal Lady, " he made answer, "that anon when I would havelaid it by, this bow of mine sang to me of present war. Therefore I amcome armed--even to thy feast. "

"Has thy bow such foresight, Eperitus?" said the Queen. "I have heardbut once of such a weapon, and that in a minstrel's tale. He came toour Court with his lyre from the Northern Sea, and he sang of the Bow ofOdysseus. "

"Minstrel or not, thou does well to come armed, Wanderer, " said thePharaoh; "for if thy bow sings, my own heart mutters much to me of warto be. "

"Follow me, Wanderer, however it fall out, " said the Queen. 

So he followed her and the Pharaoh till they came to a splendid hall, carven round with images of fighting and feasting. Here, on the paintedwalls, Rameses Miamun drove the thousands of the Khita before his singlevalour; here men hunted wild-fowl through the marshes with a great catfor their hound. Never had the Wanderer beheld such a hall since hesupped with the Sea King of the fairy isle. On the daïs, raised abovethe rest, sat the Pharaoh, and by him sat Meriamun the Queen, and by theQueen sat the Wanderer in the golden armour of Paris, and he leaned theblack bow against his ivory chair. 

Now the feast went on and men ate and drank. The Queen spoke little, butshe watched the Wanderer beneath the lids of her deep-fringed eyes. 

Suddenly, as they feasted and grew merry, the doors at the end of thechamber were thrown wide, the Guards fell back in fear, and behold, atthe end of the hall, stood two men. Their faces were tawny, dry, wastedwith desert wandering; their noses were hooked like eagles' beaks, andtheir eyes were yellow as the eyes of lions. They were clad in roughskins of beasts, girdled about their waists with leathern thongs, andfiercely they lifted their naked arms, and waved their wands of cedar. Both men were old, one was white-bearded, the other was shaven smoothlike the priests of Egypt. As they lifted the rods on high the Guardsshrank like beaten hounds, and all the guests hid their faces, saveMeriamun and the Wanderer alone. Even Pharaoh dared not look on them, but he murmured angrily in his beard:

"By the name of Osiris, " he said, "here be those Soothsayers of theApura once again. Now Death waits on those who let them pass the doors. "

Then one of the two men, he who was shaven like a priest, cried with agreat voice:

"_Pharaoh! Pharaoh! Pharaoh!_ Hearken to the word of Jahveh. Wilt thoulet the people go?"

"I will not let them go, " he answered. 

"_Pharaoh! Pharaoh! Pharaoh!_ Hearken to the word of Jahveh. If thouwilt not let the people go, then shall all the firstborn of Khem, of thePrince and the slave, of the ox and the ass, be smitten of Jahveh. Wiltthou let the people go?"

Now Pharaoh hearkened, and those who were at the feast rose and criedwith a loud voice:

"O Pharaoh, let the people go! Great woes are fallen upon Khem becauseof the Apura. O Pharaoh, let the people go!"

Now Pharaoh's heart was softened and he was minded to let them go, butMeriamun turned to him and said:

"Thou shalt not let the people go. It is not these slaves, nor the Godof these slaves, who bring the plagues on Khem, but it is that strangeGoddess, the False Hathor, who dwells here in the city of Tanis. Benot so fearful--ever hadst thou a coward heart. Drive the False Hathorthence if thou wilt, but hold these slaves to their bondage. I stillhave cities that must be built, and yon slaves shall build them. "

Then the Pharaoh cried: "Hence! I bid you. Hence, and to-morrow shallyour people be laden with a double burden and their backs shall be redwith stripes. I will not let the people go!"

Then the two men cried aloud, and pointing upward with their staffs theyvanished from the hall, and none dared to lay hands on them, but thosewho sat at the feast murmured much. 

Now the Wanderer marvelled why Pharaoh did not command the Guards to cutdown these unbidden guests, who spoiled his festival. The Queen Meriamunsaw the wonder in his eyes and turned to him. 

"Know thou, Eperitus, " she said, "that great plagues have come of lateon this land of ours--plagues of lice and frogs and flies and darkness, and the changing of pure waters to blood. And these things our Lordthe Pharaoh deems have been brought upon us by the curse of yondermagicians, conjurers and priests among certain slaves who work in theland at the building of our cities. But I know well that the curses comeon us from Hathor, the Lady of Love, because of that woman who hath setherself up here in Tanis, and is worshipped as the Hathor. "

"Why then, O Queen, " said the Wanderer, "is this false Goddess sufferedto abide in your fair city? for, as I know well, the immortal Godsare ever angered with those who turn from their worship to bow beforestrange altars. "

"Why is she suffered? Nay, ask of Pharaoh my Lord. Methinks it isbecause her beauty is more than the beauty of women, so the men say whohave looked on it, but I have not seen it, for only those men see it whogo to worship at her shrine, and then from afar. It is not meet that theQueen of all the Lands should worship at the shrine of a strange woman, come--like thyself, Eperitus--from none knows where: if indeed she be awoman and not a fiend from the Under World. But if thou wouldest learnmore, ask my Lord the Pharaoh, for he knows the Shrine of the FalseHathor, and he knows who guard it, and what is it that bars the way. "

Now the Wanderer turned to Pharaoh saying: "O Pharaoh, may I know thetruth of this mystery?"

Then Meneptah looked up, and there was doubt and trouble on his heavyface. 

"I will tell thee readily, thou Wanderer, for perchance such a man asthou, who hast travelled in many lands and seen the faces of many Gods, may understand the tale, and may help me. In the days of my father, the holy Rameses Miamun, the keepers of the Temple of the Divine Hathorawoke, and lo! in the Sanctuary of the temple was a woman in the garbof the Aquaiusha, who was Beauty's self. But when they looked upon her, none could tell the semblance of her beauty, for to one she seemed darkand to the other fair, and to each man of them she showed a diverseloveliness. She smiled upon them, and sang most sweetly, and loveentered their hearts, so that it seemed to each man that she only washis Heart's Desire. But when any man would have come nearer and embracedher, there was that about her which drove him back, and if he stroveagain, behold, he fell down dead. So at last they subdued their hearts, and desired her no more, but worshipped her as the Hathor come to earth, and made offerings of food and drink to her, and prayers. So threeyears passed, and at the end of the third year the keepers of the templelooked and the Hathor was gone. Nothing remained of her but a memory. Yet there were some who said that this memory was dearer than all elsethat the world has to give. 

"Twenty more seasons went by, and I sat upon the throne of my father, and was Lord of the Double Crown. And, on a day, a messenger camerunning and cried:

"'Now is Hathor come back to Khem, now is Hathor come back to Khem, and, as of old, none may draw near her beauty!' Then I went to see, and lo!before the Temple of Hathor a great multitude was gathered, and thereon the pylon brow stood the Hathor's self shining with changeful beautylike the Dawn. And as of old she sang sweet songs, and, to each man whoheard, her voice was the voice of his own beloved, living and lost tohim, or dead and lost. Now every man has such a grave in his heart asthat whence Hathor seems to rise in changeful beauty. Month by month shesings thus, one day in every month, and many a man has sought to win herand her favour, but in the doorways are they who meet him and press himback; and if he still struggles on, there comes a clang of swords and hefalls dead, but no wound is found on him. And, Wanderer, this is truth, for I myself have striven and have been pressed back by that whichguards her. But I alone of men who have looked on her and heard her, strove not a second time, and so saved myself alive. "

"Thou alone of men lovest life more than the World's Desire!" said theQueen. "Thou hast ever sickened for the love of this strange Witch, butthy life thou lovest even better than her beauty, and thou dost not dareattempt again the adventure of her embrace. Know, Eperitus, that thissorrow is come upon the land, that all men love yonder witch and rave ofher, and to each she wears a different face and sings in another voice. When she stands upon the pylon tower, then thou wilt see the madnesswith which she has smitten them. For they will weep and pray and teartheir hair. Then they will rush through the temple courts and up to thetemple doors, and be thrust back again by that which guards her. Butsome will yet strive madly on, and thou wilt hear the clash of armsand they will fall dead before thee. Accursed is the land, I tell thee, Wanderer; because of that Phantom it is accursed. For it is she whobrings these woes on Khem; from her, not from our slaves and their madconjurers, come plagues, I say, and all evil things. And till a man befound who may pass her guard, and come face to face with the witch andslay her, plagues and woes and evil things shall be the daily bread ofKhem. Perchance, Wanderer, thou art such a man, " and she looked on himstrangely. "Yet if so, this is my counsel, that thou go not up againsther, lest thou also be bewitched, and a great man be lost to us. "

Now the Wanderer turned the matter over in his heart and made answer:

"Perchance, Lady, my strength and the favour of the Gods might serveme in such a quest. But methinks that this woman is meeter for words oflove and the kisses of men than to be slain with the sharp sword, if, indeed, she be not of the number of the immortals. "

Now Meriamun flushed and frowned. 

"It is not fitting so to talk before me, " she said. "Of this be sure, that if the Witch may be come at, she shall be slain and given to Osirisfor a bride. "

Now the Wanderer saw that the Lady Meriamun was jealous of the beautyand renown and love of her who dwelt in the temple, and was called theStrange Hathor, and he held his peace, for he knew when to be silent. 

II

THE NIGHT OF DREAD

The feast dragged slowly on, for Fear was of the company. The men andwomen were silent, and when they drank, it was as if one had poured alittle oil on a dying fire. Life flamed up in them for a moment, theirlaughter came like the crackling of thorns, and then they were silentagain. Meanwhile the Wanderer drank little, waiting to see what shouldcome. But the Queen was watching him whom already her heart desired, and she only of all the company had pleasure in this banquet. Suddenlya side-door opened behind the daïs, there was a stir in the hall, eachguest turning his head fearfully, for all expected some evil tidings. But it was only the entrance of those who bear about in the feasts ofEgypt an effigy of the Dead, the likeness of a mummy carved in wood, and who cry: "Drink, O King, and be glad, thou shalt soon be even as he!Drink, and be glad. " The stiff, swathed figure, with its folded handsand gilded face, was brought before the Pharaoh, and Meneptah, who hadsat long in sullen brooding silence, started when he looked on it. Thenhe broke into an angry laugh. 

"We have little need of thee to-night, " he cried, as he salutedthe symbol of Osiris. "Death is near enough, we want not thy silentpreaching. Death, Death is near!"

He fell back in his gilded chair, and let the cup drop from his hand, gnawing at his beard. 

"Art thou a man?" spoke Meriamun, in a low clear voice; "are you men, and yet afraid of what comes to all? Is it only to-night that we firsthear the name of Death? Remember the great Men-kau-ra, remember theold Pharaoh who built the Pyramid of Hir. He was just and kind, and hefeared the Gods, and for his reward they showed him Death, coming on himin six short years. Did he scowl and tremble, like all of you to-night, who are scared by the threats of slaves? Nay, he outwitted the Gods, hemade night into day, he lived out twice his years, with revel and loveand wine in the lamp-lit groves of persea trees. Come, my guests, let usbe merry, if it be but for an hour. Drink, and be brave!"

"For once thou speakest well, " said the King. "Drink and forget; theGods who give Death give wine, " and his angry eyes ranged through thehall, to seek some occasion of mirth and scorn. 

"Thou Wanderer!" he said, suddenly. "Thou drinkest not: I have watchedthee as the cups go round; what, man, thou comest from the North, the sun of thy pale land has not heat enough to foster the vine. Thouseemest cold, and a drinker of water; why wilt thou be cold before thinehour? Come, pledge me in the red wine of Khem. Bring forth the cup ofPasht!" he cried to them who waited, "bring forth the cup of Pasht, theKing drinks!"

Then the chief butler of Pharaoh went to the treasure-house, and cameagain, bearing a huge golden cup, fashioned in the form of a lion'shead, and holding twelve measures of wine. It was an ancient cup, sacredto Pasht, and a gift of the Rutennu to Thothmes, the greatest of thatname. 

"Fill it full of unmixed wine!" cried the King. "Dost thou grow paleat the sight of the cup, thou Wanderer from the North? I pledge thee, pledge thou me!"

"Nay, King, " said the Wanderer, "I have tasted wine of Ismarus beforeto-day, and I have drunk with a wild host, the one-eyed Man Eater!" Forhis heart was angered by the King, and he forgot his wisdom, but theQueen marked the saying. 

"Then pledge me in the cup of Pasht!" quoth the King. 

"I pray thee, pardon me, " said the Wanderer, "for wine makes wise menfoolish and strong men weak, and to-night methinks we shall need ourwits and our strength. "

"Craven!" cried the King, "give me the bowl. I drink to thy bettercourage, Wanderer, " and lifting the great golden cup, he stood up anddrank it, and then dropped staggering into his chair, his head fallen onhis breast. 

"I may not refuse a King's challenge, though it is ill to contend withour hosts, " said the Wanderer, turning somewhat pale, for he was inanger. "Give me the bowl!"

He took the cup, and held it high; then pouring a little forth to hisGods, he said, in a clear voice, for he was stirred to anger beyond hiswont:

"_I drink to the Strange Hathor!_"

He spoke, and drained the mighty cup, and set it down on the board, andeven as he laid down the cup, and as the Queen looked at him with eyesof wrath, there came from the bow beside his seat a faint shrill sound, a ringing and a singing of the bow, a noise of running strings and asound as of rushing arrows. 

The warrior heard it, and his eyes burned with the light of battle, forhe knew well that the swift shafts should soon fly to the hearts of thedoomed. Pharaoh awoke and heard it, and heard it the Lady Meriamun theQueen, and she looked on the Wanderer astonished, and looked on the bowthat sang. 

"The minstrel's tale was true! This is none other but the Bow ofOdysseus, the sacker of cities, " said Meriamun. "Hearken thou, Eperitus, thy great bow sings aloud. How comes it that thy bow sings?"

"For this cause, Queen, " said the Wanderer; "because birds gather on theBridge of War. Soon shall shafts be flying and ghosts go down to doom. Summon thy Guards, I bid thee, for foes are near. "

Terror conquered the drunkenness of Pharaoh; he bade the Guards whostood behind his chair summon all their company. They went forth, and agreat hush fell again upon the Hall of Banquets and upon those who satat meat therein. The silence grew deadly still, like air before thethunder, and men's hearts sank within them, and turned to water in theirbreasts. Only Odysseus wondered and thought on the battle to be, thoughwhence the foe might come he knew not, and Meriamun sat erect in herivory chair and looked down the glorious hall. 

Deeper grew the silence and deeper yet, and more and more the cloud offear gathered in the hearts of men. Then suddenly through all the hallthere was a rush like the rush of mighty wings. The deep foundationsof the Palace rocked, and to the sight of men the roof above seemedto burst asunder, and lo! above them, against the distance of the sky, there swept a shape of Fear, and the stars shone through its raiment. 

Then the roof closed in again, and for a moment's space once more therewas silence, whilst men looked with white faces, each on each, and eventhe stout heart of the Wanderer stood still. 

Then suddenly all down the hall, from this place and from that, men roseup and with one great cry fell down dead, this one across the board, and that one across the floor. The Wanderer grasped his bow and counted. From among those who sat at meat twenty and one had fallen dead. Yetthose who lived sat gazing emptily, for so stricken with fear were theythat scarce did each one know if it was he himself who lay dead or hisbrother who had sat by his side. 

But Meriamun looked down the hall with cold eyes, for she feared neitherDeath nor Life, nor God nor man. 

And while she looked and while the Wanderer counted, there rose a faintmurmuring sound from the city without, a sound that grew and grew, thethunder of myriad feet that run before the death of kings. Then thedoors burst asunder and a woman sped through them in her night robes, and in her arms she bore the naked body of a boy. 

"Pharaoh!" she cried, "Pharaoh, and thou, O Queen, look upon thyson--thy firstborn son--dead is thy son, O Pharaoh! Dead is thy son, OQueen! In my arms he died suddenly as I lulled him to his rest, " and shelaid the body of the child down on the board among the vessels of gold, among the garlands of lotus flowers and the beakers of rose-red wine. 

Then Pharaoh rose and rent his purple robes and wept aloud. Meriamunrose too, and lifting the body of her son clasped it to her breast, andher eyes were terrible with wrath and grief, but she wept not. 

"See now the curse that this evil woman, this False Hathor, hath broughtupon us, " she said. 

But the very guests sprang up crying, "It is not the Hathor whom weworship, it is not the Holy Hathor, it is the Gods of those dark Apurawhom thou, O Queen, wilt not let go. On thy head and the head of Pharaohbe it, " and even as they cried the murmur without grew to a shriek ofwoe, a shriek so wild and terrible that the Palace walls rang. Againthat shriek rose, and yet a third time, never was such a cry heardin Egypt. And now for the first time in all his days the face of theWanderer grew white with fear, and in fear of heart he prayed forsuccour to his Goddess--to Aphrodite, the daughter of Dione. 

Again the doors behind them burst open and the Guards flocked in--mightymen of many foreign lands; but now their faces were wan, their eyesstared wide, and their jaws hung down. But at the sound of the clangingof their harness the strength of the Wanderer came back to him again, for the Gods and their vengeance he feared, but not the sword of man. And now once more the bow sang aloud. He grasped it, he bent it with hismighty knee, and strung it, crying:

"Awake, Pharaoh, awake! Foes draw on. Say, be these all the men?"

Then the Captain answered, "These be all of the Guard who are leftliving in the Palace. The rest are stark, smitten by the angry Gods. "

Now as the Captain spake, one came running up the hall, heeding neitherthe dead nor the living. It was the old priest Rei, the Commander of theLegion of Amen, who had been the Wanderer's guide, and his looks werewild with fear. 

"Hearken, Pharaoh!" he cried, "thy people lie dead by thousands in thestreets--the houses are full of dead. In the Temples of Ptah and Amenmany of the priests have fallen dead also. "

"Hast thou more to tell, old man?" cried the Queen. 

"The tale has not all been told, O Queen. The soldiers are mad withfear and with the sight of death, and slay their captains; barely haveI escaped from those in my command of the Legion of Amen. For they swearthat this death has been brought upon the land because the Pharaoh willnot let the Apura go. Hither, then, they come to slay the Pharaoh, and thee also, O Queen, and with them come many thousands of people, catching up such arms as lie to their hands. "

Now Pharaoh sank down groaning, but the Queen spake to the Wanderer:

"Anon thy weapon sang of war, Eperitus; now war is at the gates. "

"Little I fear the rush of battle and the blows men deal in anger, Lady, " he made answer, "though a man may fear the Gods without shame. Ho, Guards! close up, close up round me! Look not so pale-faced nowdeath from the Gods is done with, and we have but to fear the sword ofmen. "

So great was his mien and so glorious his face as he cried thus, and oneby one drew his long arrows forth and laid them on the board, that thetrembling Guards took heart, and to the number of fifty and one rangedthemselves on the edge of the daïs in a double line. Then they also madeready their bows and loosened the arrows in their quivers. 

Now from without there came a roar of men, and anon, while those of thehouse of Pharaoh, and of the guests and nobles, who sat at the feast andyet lived, fled behind the soldiers, the brazen doors were burst in withmighty blows, and through them a great armed multitude surged alongthe hall. There came soldiers broken from their ranks. There came theembalmers of the Dead; their hands were overfull of work to-night, butthey left their work undone; Death had smitten some even of these, andtheir fellows did not shrink back from them now. There came the smith, black from the forge, and the scribe bowed with endless writing; andthe dyer with his purple hands, and the fisher from the stream; and thestunted weaver from the loom, and the leper from the Temple gates. Theywere mad with lust of life, a starveling life that the King had taxed, when he let not the Apura go. They were mad with fear of death; theirwomen followed them with dead children in their arms. They smote downthe golden furnishings, they tore the silken hangings, they cast theempty cups of the feast at the faces of trembling ladies, and criedaloud for the blood of the King. 

"Where is Pharaoh?" they yelled, "show us Pharaoh and the QueenMeriamun, that we may slay them. Dead are our first born, they liein heaps as the fish lay when Sihor ran red with blood. Dead are theybecause of the curse that has been brought upon us by the prophets ofthe Apura, whom Pharaoh, and Pharaoh's Queen, yet hold in Khem. "

Now as they cried they saw Pharaoh Meneptah cowering behind the doubleline of Guards, and they saw the Queen Meriamun who cowered not, butstood silent above the din. Then she thrust her way through the Guards, and yet holding the body of the child to her breast, she stood beforethem with eyes that flashed more brightly than the uraeus crown upon herbrow. 

"Back!" she cried, "back! It is not Pharaoh, it is not I, who havebrought this death upon you. For we too have death here!" and she heldup the body of her dead son. "It is that False Hathor whom ye worship, that Witch of many a voice and many a face who turns your hearts faintwith love. For her sake ye endure these woes, on her head is all thisdeath. Go, tear her temple stone from stone, and rend her beauty limbfrom limb and be avenged and free the land from curses. "

A moment the people stood and hearkened, muttering as stands thelion that is about to spring, while those who pressed without cried:"Forward! Forward! Slay them! Slay them!" Then as with one voice theyscreamed:

"The Hathor we love, but you we hate, for ye have brought these woesupon us, and ye shall die. "

They cried, they brawled, they cast footstools and stones at the Guards, and then a certain tall man among them drew a bow. Straight at theQueen's fair breast he aimed his arrow, and swift and true it spedtowards her. She saw the light gleam upon its shining barb, and then shedid what no woman but Meriamun would have done, no, not to save herselffrom death--she held out the naked body of her son as a warrior holdsa shield. The arrow struck through and through it, piercing the tenderflesh, aye, and pricked her breast beyond, so that she let the dead boyfall. 

The Wanderer saw it and wondered at the horror of the deed, for he hadseen no such deed in all his days. Then shouting aloud the terriblewar-cry of the Achæans he leapt upon the board before him, and as heleapt his golden armour clanged. 

Glancing around, he fixed an arrow to the string and drew to his earthat great bow which none but he might so much as bend. Then as heloosed, the string sang like a swallow, and the shaft screamed throughthe air. Down the glorious hall it sped, and full on the breast of himwho had lifted bow against the Queen the bitter arrow struck, nor mighthis harness avail to stay it. Through the body of him it passed and withblood-red feathers flew on, and smote another who stood behind him sothat his knees also were loosened, and together they fell dead upon thefloor. 

Now while the people stared and wondered, again the bowstring sang likea swallow, again the arrow screamed in its flight, and he who stoodbefore it got his death, for the shield he bore was pinned to hisbreast. 

Then wonder turned to rage; the multitude rolled forward, and fromeither side the air grew dark with arrows. For the Guards at thesight of the shooting of the Wanderer found heart and fought well andmanfully. Boldly also the slayers came on, and behind them pressed manya hundred men. The Wanderer's golden helm flashed steadily, a beacon inthe storm. Black smoke burst out in the hall, the hangings flamed andtossed in a wind from the open door. The lights were struck from thehands of the golden images, arrows stood thick in the tables and therafters, a spear pierced through the golden cup of Pasht. But out ofthe darkness and smoke and dust, and the cry of battle, and through therushing of the rain of spears, sang the swallow string of the black bowof Eurytus, and the long shafts shrieked as they sped on them who wereripe to die. In vain did the arrows of the slayers smite upon thatgolden harness. They were but as hail upon the temple roofs, but asdriving snow upon the wild stag's horns. They struck, they rattled, anddown they dropped like snow, or bounded back and lay upon the board. 

The swallow string sang, the black bow twanged, and the bitter arrowsshrieked as they flew. 

Now the Wanderer's shafts were spent, and he judged that their case wasdesperate. For out of the doors of the hall that were behind them, andfrom the chambers of the women, armed men burst in also, taking them onthe flank and rear. But the Wanderer was old in war, and without a matchin all its ways. The Captain of the Guard was slain with a spear stroke, and the Wanderer took his place, calling to the men, such of them aswere left alive, to form a circle on the daïs, and within the circle heset those of the house of Pharaoh and the women who were at the feast. And to Pharaoh he cast a slain man's sword, bidding him strike for lifeand throne if he never struck before; but the heart was out of Pharaohbecause of the death of his son, and the wine about his wits, and theterrors he had seen. Then Meriamun the Queen snatched the sword from histrembling hand and stood holding it to guard her life. For she disdainedto crouch upon the ground as did the other women, but stood uprightbehind the Wanderer, and heeded not the spears and arrows that dealtdeath on every hand. But Pharaoh stood, his face buried in his hands. 

Now the slayers came on, shouting and clambering upon the daïs. Thenthe Wanderer rushed on them with sword drawn, and shield on high, and soswift he smote that men might not guard, for they saw, as it were, threeblades aloft at once, and the silver-hafted sword bit deep, the gift ofPhæacian Euryalus long ago. The Guards also smote and thrust; it wasfor their lives they fought, and back rolled the tide of foes, leavinga swathe of dead. So a second time they came on, and a second time wererolled back. 

Now of the defenders few were left unhurt, and their strength waswell-nigh spent. But the Wanderer cheered them with great words, thoughhis heart grew fearful for the end; and Meriamun the Queen also badethem to be of good courage, and if need were, to die like men. Then onceagain the wave of War rolled in upon them, and the strife grew fierceand desperate. The iron hedge of spears was well-nigh broken, and nowthe Wanderer, doing such deeds as had not been known in Khem, stoodalone between Meriamun the Queen and the swords that thirsted for herlife and the life of Pharaoh. Then of a sudden, from far down the greathall of banquets, there came a loud cry that shrilled above the clash ofswords, the groans of men, and all the din of battle. 

"_Pharaoh! Pharaoh! Pharaoh!_" rose a voice. "Now wilt thou let thepeople go?"

Then he who smote stayed his hand and he who guarded dropped his shield. The battle ceased and all turned to look. There at the end of the hall, among the dead and dying, there stood the two ancient men of the Apura, and in their hands were cedar rods. 

"It is the Wizards--the Wizards of the Apura, " men cried, and shrunkthis way and that, thinking no more on war. 

The ancient men drew nigh. They took no heed of the dying or the dead:on they walked, through blood and wine and fallen tables and scatteredarms, till they stood before the Pharaoh. 

"_Pharaoh! Pharaoh! Pharaoh!_" they cried again. "Dead are thefirst-born of Khem at the hand of Jahveh. Wilt thou let the people go?"

Then Pharaoh lifted his face and cried:

"Get you gone--you and all that is yours. Get you gone swiftly, and letKhem see your face no more. "

The people heard, and the living left the hall, and silence fell on thecity, and on the dead who died of the sword, and the dead who diedof the pestilence. Silence fell, and sleep, and the Gods' bestgift--forgetfulness. 

III

THE BATHS OF BRONZE

Even out of this night of dread the morning rose, and with it came Rei, bearing a message from the King. But he did not find the Wanderer inhis chamber. The Palace eunuchs said that he had risen and had asked forKurri, the Captain of the Sidonians, who was now the Queen's Jeweller. Thither Rei went, for Kurri was lodged with the servants in a court ofthe Royal House, and as the old man came he heard the sound of hammersbeating on metal. There, in the shadow which the Palace wall cast into alittle court, there was the Wanderer; no longer in his golden mail, butwith bare arms, and dressed in such a light smock as the workmen of Khemwere wont to wear. 

The Wanderer was bending over a small brazier, whence a flame and alight blue smoke arose and melted into the morning light. In his hand heheld a small hammer, and he had a little anvil by him, on which layone of the golden shoulder-plates of his armour. The other pieces wereheaped beside the brazier. Kurri, the Sidonian, stood beside him, withgraving tools in his hands. 

"Hail to thee, Eperitus, " cried Rei, calling him by the name he hadchosen to give himself. "What makest thou here with fire and anvil?"

"I am but furbishing up my armour, " said the Wanderer, smiling. "It hasmore than one dint from the fight in the hall;" and he pointed to hisshield, which was deeply scarred across the blazon of the White Bull, the cognizance of dead Paris, Priam's son. "Sidonian, blow up the fire. "

Kurri crouched on his hams and blew the blaze to a white heat witha pair of leathern bellows, while the Wanderer fitted the plates andhammered at them on the anvil, making the jointures smooth and strong, talking meanwhile with Rei. 

"Strange work for a prince, as thou must be in Alybas, whence thoucomest, " quoth Rei, leaning on his long rod of cedar, headed with anapple of bluestone. "In our country chiefs do not labour with theirhands. "

"Different lands, different ways, " answered Eperitus. "In my country menwed not their sisters as your kings do, though, indeed, it comes intomy mind that once I met such brides in my wanderings in the isle of theKing of the Winds. "

For the thought of the Æolian isle, where King Æolus gave him all thewinds in a bag, came into his memory. 

"My hands can serve me in every need, " he went on. "Mowing the deepgreen grass in spring, or driving oxen, or cutting a clean furrow withthe plough in heavy soil, or building houses and ships, or doing smith'swork with gold and bronze and grey iron--they are all one to me. "

"Or the work of war, " said Rei. "For there I have seen thee labour. Now, listen, thou Wanderer, the King Meneptah and the Queen Meriamun sendme to thee with this scroll of their will, " and he drew forth a roll ofpapyrus, bound with golden threads, and held it on his forehead, bowing, as if he prayed. 

"What is that roll of thine?" said the Wanderer, who was hammering atthe bronze spear-point, that stood fast in his helm. 

Rei undid the golden threads and opened the scroll, which he gave intothe Wanderer's hand. 

"Gods! What have we here?" said the Wanderer. "Here are pictures, tinyand cunningly drawn, serpents in red, and little figures of men sittingor standing, axes and snakes and birds and beetles! My father, whattokens are these?" and he gave the scroll back to Rei. 

"The King has made his Chief Scribe write to thee, naming thee Captainof the Legion of Pasht, the Guard of the Royal House, for last nightthe Captain was slain. He gives thee a high title, and he promises theehouses, lands, and a city of the South to furnish thee with wine, anda city of the North to furnish thee with corn, if thou wilt be hisservant. "

"Never have I served any man, " said the Wanderer, flushing red, "thoughI went near to being sold and to knowing the day of slavery. The Kingdoes me too much honour. "

"Thou wouldest fain begone from Khem?" asked the old man, eagerly. 

"I would fain find her I came to seek, wherever she may be, " said theWanderer. "Here or otherwhere. "

"Then, what answer shall I carry to the King?"

"Time brings thought, " said the Wanderer; "I would see the city if thouwilt guide me. Many cities have I seen, but none so great as this. As wewalk I will consider my answer to your King. "

He had been working at his helm as he spoke, for the rest of his armourwas now mended. He had drawn out the sharp spear-head of bronze, and wasbalancing it in his hand and trying its edge. 

"A good blade, " he said; "better was never hammered. It went near todoing its work, Sidonian, " and he turned to Kurri as he spoke. "Twothings of thine I had: thy life and thy spear-point. Thy life I gavethee, thy spear-point thou didst lend me. Here, take it again, " and hetossed the spear-head to the Queen's Jeweller. 

"I thank thee, lord, " answered the Sidonian, thrusting it in his girdle;but he muttered between his teeth, "The gifts of enemies are gifts ofevil. "

The Wanderer did on his mail, set the helmet on his head, and spoke toRei. "Come forth, friend, and show me thy city. "

But Rei was watching the smile on the face of the Sidonian, and hedeemed it cruel and crafty and warlike, like the laugh of the Sardanaof the sea. He said nought, but called a guard of soldiers, and with theWanderer he passed the Palace gates and went out into the city. 

The sight was strange, and it was not thus that the old man, who lovedhis land, would have had the Wanderer see it. 

From all the wealthy houses, and from many of the poorer sort, rang thewail of the women mourners as they sang their dirges for the dead. 

But in the meaner quarters many a hovel was marked with three smearsof blood, dashed on each pillar of the door and on the lintel; and thesound that came from these dwellings was the cry of mirth and festival. There were two peoples; one laughed, one lamented. And in and out ofthe houses marked with the splashes of blood women were ever going withempty hands, or coming with hands full of jewels, of gold, of silverrings, of cups, and purple stuffs. Empty they went out, laden they camein, dark men and women with keen black eyes and the features of birdsof prey. They went, they came, they clamoured with delight among themourning of the men and women of Khem, and none laid a hand on them, none refused them. 

One tall fellow snatched at the staff of Rei. 

"Lend me thy staff, old man, " he said, sneering; "lend me thy jewelledstaff for my journey. I do but borrow it; when Yakûb comes from thedesert thou shalt have it again. "

But the Wanderer turned on the fellow with such a glance that he fellback. 

"I have seen _thee_ before, " he said, and he laughed over his shoulderas he went; "I saw thee last night at the feast, and heard thy greatbow sing. Thou art not of the folk of Khem. They are a gentle folk, andYakûb wins favour in their sight. "

"What passes now in this haunted land of thine, old man?" saidthe Wanderer, "for of all the sights that I have seen, this is thestrangest. None lifts a hand to save his goods from the thief. "

Rei the Priest groaned aloud. 

"Evil days have come upon Khem, " he said. "The Apura spoil the people ofKhem ere they fly into the Wilderness. "

Even as he spoke there came a great lady weeping, for her husband wasdead, and her son and her brother, all were gone in the breath of thepestilence. She was of the Royal House, and richly decked with gold andjewels, and the slaves who fanned her, as she went to the Temple of Ptahto worship, wore gold chains upon their necks. Two women of the Apurasaw her and ran to her, crying:

"Lend to us those golden ornaments thou wearest. "

Then, without a word, she took her gold bracelets and chains and rings, and let them all fall in a heap at her feet. The women of the Apura tookthem all and mocked her, crying:

"Where now is thy husband and thy son and thy brother, thou who art ofPharaoh's house? Now thou payest us for the labour of our hands and forthe bricks that we made without straw, gathering leaves and rushes inthe sun. Now thou payest for the stick in the hand of the overseers. Where now is thy husband and thy son and thy brother?" and they wentstill mocking, and left the lady weeping. 

But of all sights the Wanderer held this strangest, and many such therewere to see. At first he would have taken back the spoil and given itto those who wore it, but Rei the Priest prayed him to forbear, lest thecurse should strike them also. So they pressed on through the tumult, ever seeing new sights of greed and death and sorrow. Here a mother weptover her babe, here a bride over her husband--that night the groom ofher and of death. Here the fierce-faced Apura, clamouring like gulls, tore the silver trinkets from the children of those of the baser sort, or the sacred amulets from the mummies of those who were laid out forburial, and here a water-carrier wailed over the carcass of the ass thatwon him his livelihood. 

At length, passing through the crowd, they came to a temple that stoodnear to the Temple of the God Ptah. The pylons of this temple facedtowards the houses of the city, but the inner courts were built againstthe walls of Tanis and looked out across the face of the water. Thoughnot one of the largest temples, it was very strong and beautiful in itsshape. It was built of the black stone of Syene, and all the polishedface of the stone was graven with images of the Holy Hathor. Here shewore a cow's head, and here the face of a woman, but she always borein her hands the lotus-headed staff and the holy token of life, and herneck was encircled with the collar of the gods. 

"Here dwells that Strange Hathor to whom thou didst drink last night, Eperitus, " said Rei the Priest. "It was a wild pledge to drink beforethe Queen, who swears that she brings these woes on Khem. Though, indeed, she is guiltless of this, with all the blood on her beautifulhead. The Apura and their apostate sorcerer, whom we ourselvesinstructed, bring the plagues on us. "

"Does the Hathor manifest herself this day?" asked the Wanderer. 

"That we will ask of the priests, Eperitus. Follow thou me. "

Now they passed down the avenue of sphinxes within the wall of brick, into the garden plot of the Goddess, and so on through the gates of theouter tower. A priest who watched there threw them wide at the sign thatwas given of Rei, the Master-Builder, the beloved of Pharaoh, and theycame to the outer court. Before the second tower they halted, and Reishowed to the Wanderer that place upon the pylon roof where the Hathorwas wont to stand and sing till the hearers' hearts were melted likewax. Here they knocked once more, and were admitted to the Hall ofAssembly where the priests were gathered, throwing dust upon their headsand mourning those among them who had died with the Firstborn. When theysaw Rei, the instructed, the Prophet of Amen, and the Wanderer clad ingolden armour who was with him, they ceased from their mourning, and anancient priest of their number came forward, and, greeting Rei, askedhim of his errand. Then Rei took the Wanderer by the hand and made himknown to the priest, and told him of those deeds that he had done, andhow he had saved the life of Pharaoh and of those of the Royal House whosat at the feast with Pharaoh. 

"But when will the Lady Hathor sing upon her tower top?" said Rei, "forthe Stranger desires to see her and hear her. "

The temple priest bowed before the Wanderer, and answered gravely:

"On the third morn from now the Holy Hathor shows herself upon thetemple's top, " he said; "but thou, mighty lord, who art risen from thesea, hearken to my warning, and if, indeed, thou art no god, dare not tolook upon her beauty. If thou dost look, then thy fate shall be as thefate of those who have looked before, and have loved and have died forthe sake of the Hathor. "

"No god am I, " said the Wanderer, laughing, "yet, perchance, I shalldare to look, and dare to face whatever it be that guards her, if myheart bids me see her nearer. "

"Then there shall be an end of thee and thy wanderings, " said thepriest. "Now follow me, and I will show thee those men who last soughtto win the Hathor. "

He took him by the hand and led him through passages hewn in the wallstill they came to a deep and gloomy cell, where the golden armour of theWanderer shone like a lamp at eve. The cell was built against the citywall, and scarcely a thread of light came into the chink between roofand wall. All about the chamber were baths fashioned of bronze, and inthe baths lay dusky shapes of dark-skinned men of Egypt. There they lay, and in the faint light their limbs were being anointed by some sad-facedattendants, as folk were anointed by merry girls in the shining bathsof the Wanderer's home. When Rei and Eperitus came near, the sad-facedbath-men shrank away in shame, as dogs shrink from their evil meat atnight when a traveller goes past. 

Marvelling at the strange sight, the bathers and the bathed, theWanderer looked more closely, and his stout heart sank within him. Forall these were dead who lay in the baths of bronze, and it was not waterthat flowed about their limbs, but evil-smelling natron. 

"Here lie those, " said the priest, "who last strove to come near theHoly Hathor, and to pass into the shrine of the temple where night andday she sits and sings and weaves with her golden shuttle. Here theylie, the half of a score. One by one they rushed to embrace her, and oneby one they were smitten down. Here they are being attired for the tomb, for we give them all rich burial. "

"Truly, " quoth the Wanderer, "I left the world of Light behind me when Ilooked on the blood-red sea and sailed into the black gloom off Pharos. More evil sights have I seen in this haunted land than in all the citieswhere I have wandered, and on all the seas that I have sailed. "

"Then be warned, " said the priest, "for if thou dost follow where theywent, and desire what they desired, thou too shalt lie in yonder bath, and be washed of yonder waters. For whatever be false, this is true, that he who seeks love ofttimes finds doom. But here he finds it mostspeedily. "

The Wanderer looked again at the dead and at their ministers, and heshuddered till his harness rattled. He feared not the face of Death inwar, or on the sea, but this was a new thing. Little he loved the sightof the brazen baths and those who lay there. The light of the sun andthe breath of air seemed good to him, and he stepped quickly from thechamber, while the priest smiled to himself. But when he reached theouter air, his heart came back to him, and he began to ask again aboutthe Hathor--where she dwelt, and what it was that slew her lovers. 

"I will show thee, " answered the priest, and brought him through theHall of Assembly to a certain narrow way that led to a court. In thecentre of the court stood the holy shrine of the Hathor. It was a greatchamber, built of alabaster, lighted from the roof alone, and shut inwith brazen doors, before which hung curtains of Tyrian web. From theroof of the shrine a stairway ran overhead to the roof of the temple andso to the inner pylon tower. 

"Yonder, Stranger, the holy Goddess dwells within the Alabaster Shrine, "said the priest. "By that stair she passes to the temple roof, andthence to the pylon top. There by the curtains, once in every day, weplace food, and it is drawn into the sanctuary, how we know not, fornone of us have set foot there, nor seen the Hathor face to face. Now, when the Goddess has stood upon the pylon and sung to the multitudebelow, she passes back to the shrine. Then the brazen outer doors of thetemple court are thrown wide and the doomed rush on madly, one by one, towards the drawn curtains. But before they pass the curtains theyare thrust back, yet they strive to pass. Then we hear a sound of theclashing of weapons and the men fall dead without a word, while the songof the Hathor swells from within. "

"And who are her swordsmen?" said the Wanderer. 

"That we know not, Stranger; no man has lived to tell. Come, draw nearto the door of the shrine and hearken, maybe thou wilt hear the Hathorsinging. Have no fear; thou needst not approach the guarded space. "

Then the Wanderer drew near with a doubting heart, but Rei the Prieststood afar off, though the temple priests came close enough. At thecurtains they stopped and listened. Then from within the shrine therecame a sound of singing wild and sweet and shrill, and the voice of itstirred the Wanderer strangely, bringing to his mind memories of thatIthaca of which he was Lord and which he should see no more; of thehappy days of youth, and of the God-built walls of windy Ilios. But hecould not have told why he thought on these things, nor why his heartwas thus strangely stirred within him. 

"Hearken! the Hathor sings as she weaves the doom of men, " said thepriest, and as he spoke the singing ended. 

Then the Wanderer took counsel with himself whether he should then andthere burst the doors and take his fortune, or whether he should forbearfor that while. But in the end he determined to forbear and see with hisown eyes what befell those who strove to win the way. 

So he drew back, wondering much; and, bidding farewell to the agedpriest, he went with Rei, the Master Builder, through the town of Tanis, where the Apura were still spoiling the people of Khem, and he came tothe Palace where he was lodged. Here he turned over in his mind how hemight see the strange woman of the temple, and yet escape the baths ofbronze. There he sat and thought till at length the night drew on, andone came to summon him to sup with Pharaoh in the Hall. Then he roseup and went, and meeting Pharaoh and Meriamun the Queen in the outerchamber, passed in after them to the Hall, and on to the daïs which hehad held against the rabble, for the place was clear of dead, and, savefor certain stains upon the marble floor that might not be washed away, and for some few arrows that yet were fixed high up in the walls or inthe lofty roof, there was nothing to tell of the great fray that hadbeen fought but one day gone. 

Heavy was the face of Pharaoh, and the few who sat with him were sadenough because of the death of so many whom they loved, and the shameand sorrow that had fallen upon Khem. But there were no tears for herone child in the eyes of Meriamun the Queen. Anger, not grief, tore herheart because Pharaoh had let the Apura go. For ever as they sat atthe sad feast there came a sound of the tramping feet of armies, and oflowing cattle, and songs of triumph, sung by ten thousand voices, andthus they sang the song of the Apura:--

 A lamp for our feet the Lord hath litten, Signs hath He shown in the Land of Khem. The Kings of the Nations our Lord hath smitten, His shoe hath He cast o'er the Gods of them. He hath made Him a mock of the heifer of Isis, He hath broken the chariot reins of Ra, On Yakûb He cries, and His folk arises, And the knees of the Nation are loosed in awe. 

 He gives us their goods for a spoil to gather, Jewels of silver, and vessels of gold; For Yahveh of old is our Friend and Father, And cherisheth Yakûb He chose of old. The Gods of the Peoples our Lord hath chidden, Their courts hath He filled with His creeping things; The light of the face of the Sun he hath hidden, And broken the scourge in the hands of kings. 

 He hath chastened His people with stripes and scourges, Our backs hath He burdened with grievous weights, But His children shall rise as a sea that surges, And flood the fields of the men He hates. The Kings of the Nations our Lord hath smitten, His shoe hath He cast o'er the Gods of them, But a lamp for our feet the Lord hath litten, Wonders hath he wrought in the Land of Khem. 

Thus they sang, and the singing was so wild that the Wanderer cravedleave to go and stand at the Palace gate, lest the Apura should rush inand spoil the treasure-chamber. 

The King nodded, but Meriamun rose, and went with the Wanderer as hetook his bow and passed to the great gates. 

There they stood in the shadow of the gates, and this is what theybeheld. A great light of many torches was flaring along the roadwayin front. Then came a body of men, rudely armed with pikes, and thetorchlight shone on the glitter of bronze and on the gold helms of whichthey had spoiled the soldiers of Khem. Next came a troop of wild women, dancing, and beating timbrels, and singing the triumphant hymn of scorn. 

Next, with a space between, tramped eight strong black-bearded men, bearing on their shoulders a great gilded coffin, covered with carvenand painted signs. 

"It is the body of their Prophet, who brought them hither out of theirland of hunger, " whispered Meriamun. "Slaves, ye shall hunger yet in thewilderness, and clamour for the flesh-pots of Khem!"

Then she cried in a loud voice, for her passion overcame her, and sheprophesied to those who bare the coffin, "Not one soul of you that livesshall see the land where your conjurer is leading you! Ye shall thirst, ye shall hunger, ye shall call on the Gods of Khem, and they shall nothear you; ye shall die, and your bones shall whiten the wilderness. Farewell! Set go with you. Farewell!"

So she cried and pointed down the way, and so fierce was her gaze, andso awful were her words, that the people of the Apura trembled and thewomen ceased to sing. 

The Wanderer watched the Queen and marvelled. "Never had woman such ahardy heart, " he mused; "and it were ill to cross her in love or war!"

"They will sing no more at my gates, " murmured Meriamun, with a smile. "Come, Wanderer; they await us, " and she gave him her hand that he mightlead her. 

So they went back to the banquet hall. 

They hearkened as they sat till far in the night, and still the Apurapassed, countless as the sands of the sea. At length all were gone, andthe sound of their feet died away in the distance. Then Meriamun theQueen turned to Pharaoh and spake bitterly:

"Thou art a coward, Meneptah, ay, a coward and a slave at heart. In thyfear of the curse that the False Hathor hath laid on us, she whom thoudost worship, to thy shame, thou hast let these slaves go. Otherwisehad our father dealt with them, great Rameses Miamun, the hammer of theKhita. Now they are gone hissing curses on the land that bare them, androbbing those who nursed them up while they were yet a little people, asa mother nurses her child. "

"What then might I do?" said Pharaoh. 

"There is nought to do: all is done, " answered Meriamun. 

"What is thy counsel, Wanderer?"

"It is ill for a stranger to offer counsel, " said the Wanderer. 

"Nay, speak, " cried the Queen. 

"I know not the Gods of this land, " he answered. "If these peoplebe favoured of the Gods, I say sit still. But if not, " then said theWanderer, wise in war, "let Pharaoh gather his host, follow after thepeople, take them unawares, and smite them utterly. It is no hard task, they are so mixed a multitude and cumbered with much baggage!"

This was to speak as the Queen loved to hear. Now she clapped her handsand cried:

"Listen, listen to good counsel, Pharaoh. "

And now that the Apura were gone, his fear of them went also, and ashe drank wine Pharaoh grew bold, till at last he sprang to his feetand swore by Amen, by Osiris, by Ptah, and by his father--greatRameses--that he would follow after the Apura and smite them. Andinstantly he sent forth messengers to summon the captains of his host inthe Hall of Assembly. 

Thither the captains came, and their plans were made and messengershurried forth to the governors of other great cities, bidding them sendtroops to join the host of Pharaoh on its march. 

Now Pharaoh turned to the Wanderer and said:

"Thou hast not yet answered my message that Rei carried to thee thismorning. Wilt thou take service with me and be a captain in this war?"

The Wanderer little liked the name of service, but his warlike heart wasstirred within him, for he loved the delight of battle. But before hecould answer yea or nay, Meriamun the Queen, who was not minded that heshould leave her, spoke hastily:

"This is my counsel, Meneptah, that the Lord Eperitus should abide herein Tanis and be the Captain of my Guard while thou art gone to smite theApura. For I may not be here unguarded in these troublous times, and ifI know he watches over me, he who is so mighty a man, then I shall walksafely and sleep in peace. "

Now the Wanderer bethought him of his desire to look upon the Hathor, for to see new things and try new adventures was always his delight. Sohe answered that if it were pleasing to Pharaoh and the Queen he wouldwillingly stay and command the Guard. And Pharaoh said that it should beso. 

IV

THE QUEEN'S CHAMBER

At midday on the morrow Pharaoh and the host of Pharaoh marched in pompfrom Tanis, taking the road that runs across the desert country towardsthe Red Sea of Weeds, the way that the Apura had gone. The Wanderer wentwith the army for an hour's journey and more, in a chariot driven byRei the Priest, for Rei did not march with the host. The number ofthe soldiers of Pharaoh amazed the Achæan, accustomed to the levies ofbarren isles and scattered tribes. But he said nothing of his wonderto Rei or any man, lest it should be thought that he came from among alittle people. He even made as if he held the army lightly, and askedthe priest if this was all the strength of Pharaoh! Then Rei told himthat it was but a fourth part, for none of the mercenaries and none ofthe soldiers from the Upper Land marched with the King in pursuit of theApura. 

Then the Wanderer knew that he was come among a greater people than hehad ever encountered yet, on land or sea. So he went with them till theroads divided, and there he drove his chariot to the chariot of Pharaohand bade him farewell. Pharaoh called to him to mount his own chariot, and spake thus to him:

"Swear to me, thou Wanderer, who namest thyself Eperitus, though of whatcountry thou art and what was thy father's house none know, swear to methat thou wilt guard Meriamun the Queen faithfully, and wilt work no woeupon me nor open my house while I am afar. Great thou art and beautifulto look on, ay, and strong enough beyond the strength of men, yet myheart misdoubts me of thee. For methinks thou art a crafty man, and thatevil will come upon me through thee. "

"If this be thy mind, Pharaoh, " said the Wanderer, "leave me not inguard of the Queen. And yet methinks I did not befriend thee so ill twonights gone, when the rabble would have put thee and all thy house tothe sword because of the death of the firstborn. "

Now Pharaoh looked on him long and doubtfully, then stretched out hishand. The Wanderer took it, and swore by his own Gods, by Zeus, byAphrodite, and Athene, and Apollo, that he would be true to the trust. 

"I believe thee, Wanderer, " said Pharaoh. "Know this, if thou keepestthine oath thou shalt have great rewards, and thou shalt be secondto none in the land of Khem, but if thou failest, then thou shalt diemiserably. "

"I ask no fee, " answered the Wanderer, "and I fear no death, for in oneway only shall I die, and that is known to me. Yet I will keep my oath. "And he bowed before Pharaoh, and leaping from his chariot entered againinto the chariot of Rei. 

Now, as he drove back through the host the soldiers called to him, saying:

"Leave us not, Wanderer. " For he looked so glorious in his golden armourthat it seemed to them as though a god departed from their ranks. 

His heart was with them, for he loved war, and he did not love theApura. But he drove on, as so it must be, and came to the Palace atsundown. 

That night he sat at the feast by the side of Meriamun the Queen. Andwhen the feast was done she bade him follow her into her chamber whereshe sat when she would be alone. It was a fragrant chamber, dimlylighted with sweet-scented lamps, furnished with couches of ivory andgold, while all the walls told painted stories of strange gods andkings, and of their loves and wars. The Queen sank back upon theembroidered cushions of a couch and bade the wise Odysseus to sit guardover against her, so near that her robes swept his golden greaves. Thishe did somewhat against his will, though he was no hater of fair women. But his heart misdoubted the dark-eyed Queen, and he looked upon herguardedly, for she was strangely fair to see, the fairest of all mortalwomen whom he had known, save the Golden Helen. 

"Wanderer, we owe thee great thanks, and I would gladly know to whomwe are in debt for the prices of our lives, " she said. "Tell me of thybirth, of thy father's house, and of the lands that thou hast seen andthe wars wherein thou hast fought. Tell me also of the sack of Ilios, and how thou camest by thy golden mail. The unhappy Paris wore such armsas these, if the minstrel of the North sang truth. "

Now, the Wanderer would gladly have cursed this minstrel of the Northand his songs. 

"Minstrels will be lying, Lady, " he said, "and they gather old taleswherever they go. Paris may have worn my arms, or another man. I boughtthem from a chapman in Crete, and asked nothing of their first master. As for Ilios, I fought there in my youth, and served the CretanIdomeneus, but I got little booty. To the King the wealth and women, tous the sword-strokes. Such is the appearance of war. "

Meriamun listened to his tale, which he set forth roughly, as if he weresome blunt, grumbling swordsman, and darkly she looked on him while shehearkened, and darkly she smiled as she looked. 

"A strange story, Eperitus, a strange story truly. Now tell me thus. Howcamest thou by yonder great bow, the bow of the swallow string? If myminstrel spoke truly, it was once the Bow of Eurytus of OEchalia. "

Now the Wanderer glanced round him like a man taken in ambush, who seeson every hand the sword of foes shine up into the sunlight. 

"The bow, Lady?" he answered readily enough. "I got it strangely. Iwas cruising with a cargo of iron on the western coast and landed on anisle, methinks the pilot called it Ithaca. There we found nothing butdeath; a pestilence had been in the land, but in a ruined hall this bowwas lying, and I made prize of it. A good bow!"

"A strange story, truly--a very strange story, " quoth Meriamun theQueen. "By chance thou didst buy the armour of Paris, by chance thoudidst find the bow of Eurytus, that bow, methinks, with which thegod-like Odysseus slew the wooers in his halls. Knowest thou, Eperitus, that when thou stoodest yonder on the board in the Place of Banquets, when the great bow twanged and the long shafts hailed down on the halland loosened the knees of many, not a little was I put in mind of thesong of the slaying of the wooers at the hands of Odysseus. The fame ofOdysseus has wandered far--ay, even to Khem. " And she looked straight athim. 

The Wanderer darkened his face and put the matter by. He had heardsomething of that tale, he said, but deemed it a minstrel's feigning. One man could not fight a hundred, as the story went. 

The Queen half rose from the couch where she lay curled up like aglittering snake. Like a snake she rose and watched him with hermelancholy eyes. 

"Strange, indeed--most strange that Odysseus, Laertes' son, Odysseusof Ithaca, should not know the tale of the slaying of the wooers byOdysseus' self. Strange, indeed, thou Eperitus, who art Odysseus. "

Now the neck of the Wanderer was in the noose, and well he knew it: yethe kept his counsel, and looked upon her vacantly. 

"Men say that this Odysseus wandered years ago into the North, and thatthis time he will not come again. I saw him in the wars, and he was ataller man than I, " said the Wanderer. 

"I have always heard, " said the Queen, "that Odysseus was double-tonguedand crafty as a fox. Look me in the eyes, thou Wanderer, look me in theeyes, and I will show thee whether or not thou art Odysseus, " and sheleaned forward so that her hair well-nigh swept his brow, and gazed deepinto his eyes. 

Now the Wanderer was ashamed to drop his eyes before a woman's, and hecould not rise and go; so he must needs gaze, and as he gazed his headgrew strangely light and the blood quivered in his veins, and thenseemed to stop. 

"Now turn, thou Wanderer, " said the voice of the Queen, and to him itsounded far away, as if there was a wall between them, "and tell me whatthou seest. "

So he turned and looked towards the dark end of the chamber. Butpresently through the darkness stole a faint light, like the first greylight of the dawn, and now he saw a shape, like the shape of a greathorse of wood, and behind the horse were black square towers of hugestones, and gates, and walls, and houses. Now he saw a door open in theside of the horse, and the helmeted head of a man look out wearily. Ashe looked a great white star slid down the sky so that the light ofit rested on the face of the man, and that face was his own! Then heremembered how he had looked forth from the belly of the wooden horse asit stood within the walls of Ilios, and thus the star had seemed to fallupon the doomed city, an omen of the end of Troy. 

"Look again, " said the voice of Meriamun from far away. 

So once more he looked into the darkness, and there he saw the mouth ofa cave, and beneath two palms in front of it sat a man and a woman. The yellow moon rose and its light fell upon a sleeping sea, upon talltrees, upon the cave, and the two who sat there. The woman was lovely, with braided hair, and clad in a shining robe, and her eyes were dimwith tears that she might never shed: for she was a Goddess, Calypso, the daughter of Atlas. Then in the vision the man looked up, and hisface was weary, and worn and sick for home, but it was his own face. 

Then he remembered how he had sat thus at the side of Calypso of thebraided tresses, on that last night of all his nights in her wave-girtisle, the centre of the seas. 

"Look once more, " said the voice of Meriamun the Queen. 

Again he looked into the darkness. There before him grew the ruins ofhis own hall in Ithaca, and in the courtyard before the hall was a heapof ashes, and the charred bones of men. Before the heap lay the figureof one lost in sorrow, for his limbs writhed upon the ground. Anon theman lifted his face, and behold! the Wanderer knew that it was his ownface. 

Then of a sudden the gloom passed away from the chamber, and once morehis blood surged through his veins, and there before him sat Meriamunthe Queen, smiling darkly. 

"Strange sights hast thou seen, is it not so, Wanderer?" she said. 

"Yea, Queen, the most strange of sights. Tell me of thy courtesy howthou didst conjure them before my eyes. "

"By the magic that I have, Eperitus, I above all wizards who dwell inKhem, the magic whereby I can read all the past of those--I love, " andagain she looked upon him; "ay, and call it forth from the storehouse ofdead time and make it live again. Say, whose face was it that thou didstlook upon--was it not the face of Odysseus of Ithaca, Laertes' son, andwas not that face thine?"

Now the Wanderer saw that there was no escape. Therefore he spoke thetruth, not because he loved it, but because he must. 

"The face of Odysseus of Ithaca it was that I saw before me, Lady, andthat face is mine. I avow myself to be Odysseus, Laertes' son, and noother man. "

The Queen laughed aloud. "Great must be my strength of magic, " shesaid, "for it can strip the guile from the subtlest of men. Henceforth, Odysseus, thou wilt know that the eyes of Meriamun the Queen see far. Now tell me truly: what camest thou hither to seek?"

The Wanderer took swift counsel with himself. Remembering that dream ofMeriamun of which Rei the Priest had told him, and which she knew notthat he had learned, the dream that showed her the vision of one whomshe must love, and remembering the word of the dead Hataska, he grewafraid. For he saw well by the token of the spear point that he wasthe man of her dream, and that she knew it. But he could not accepther love, both because of his oath to Pharaoh and because of her whomAphrodite had shown to him in Ithaca, her whom alone he must seek, theHeart's Desire, the Golden Helen. 

The strait was desperate, between a broken oath and a woman scorned. Buthe feared his oath, and the anger of Zeus, the God of hosts and guests. So he sought safety beneath the wings of truth. 

"Lady, " he said, "I will tell thee all! I came to Ithaca from the whitenorth, where a curse had driven me; I came and found my halls desolate, and my people dead, and the very ashes of my wife. But in a dream ofthe night I saw the Goddess whom I have worshipped little, Aphrodite ofIdalia, whom in this land ye name Hathor, and she bade me go forth anddo her will. And for reward she promised me that I should find one whowaited me to be my deathless love. "

Meriamun heard him so far, but no further, for of this she made sure, that _she_ was the woman whom Aphrodite had promised to the Wanderer. Ere he might speak another word she glided to him like a snake, and likea snake curled herself about him. Then she spoke so low that he ratherknew her thought than heard her words:

"Was it indeed so, Odysseus? Did the Goddess indeed send thee to seek meout? Know, then, that not to thee alone did she speak. I also looked forthee. I also waited the coming of one whom I should love. Oh, heavy havebeen the days, and empty was my heart, and sorely through the years haveI longed for him who should be brought to me. And now at length it isdone, now at length I see him whom in my dream I saw, " and she liftedher lips to the lips of the Wanderer, and her heart, and her eyes, andher lips said "Love. "

But it was not for nothing that he bore a stout and patient heart, and abrain unclouded by danger or by love. He had never been in a strait likethis; caught with bonds that no sword could cut, and in toils that noskill could undo. On one side were love and pleasure--on the other abroken oath, and the loss for ever of the Heart's Desire. For to loveanother woman, as he had been warned, was to lose Helen. But again, ifhe scorned the Queen--nay, for all his hardihood he dared not tell herthat she was not the woman of his vision, the woman he came to seek. Yeteven now his cold courage and his cunning did not fail him. 

"Lady, " he said, "we both have dreamed. But if thou didst dream thouwert my love, thou didst wake to find thyself the wife of Pharaoh. AndPharaoh is my host and hath my oath. "

"I woke to find myself the wife of Pharaoh, " she echoed, wearily, andher arms uncurled from his neck and she sank back on the couch. "I amPharaoh's wife in word, but not in deed. Pharaoh is nothing to me, thouWanderer--nought save a name. "

"Yet is my oath much to me, Queen Meriamun--my oath and the hospitablehearth, " the Wanderer made answer. "I swore to Meneptah to hold theefrom all ill, and there's an end. "

"And if Pharaoh comes back no more, what then Odysseus?"

"Then will we talk again. And now, Lady, thy safety calls me to visitthy Guard. " And without more words he rose and went. 

The Queen looked after him. 

"A strange man, " she said in her heart, "who builds a barrier with hisoath betwixt himself and her he loves and has wandered so far to win!Yet methinks I honour him the more. Pharaoh Meneptah, my husband, eat, drink, and be merry, for this I promise thee--short shall be thy days. "

V

THE CHAPEL PERILOUS

"Swift as a bird or a thought, " says the old harper of the Northern Sea. The Wanderer's thoughts in the morning were swift as night birds, flyingback and brooding over the things he had seen and the words he had heardin the Queen's chamber. Again he stood between this woman and the oathwhich, of all oaths, was the worst to break. And, indeed, he was littletempted to break it, for though Meriamun was beautiful and wise, hefeared her love and he feared her magic art no less than he feared hervengeance if she were scorned. Delay seemed the only course. Let himwait till the King returned, and it would go hard but he found somecause for leaving the city of Tanis, and seeking through new adventuresthe World's Desire. The mysterious river lay yonder. He would ascend theriver of which so many tales were told. It flowed from the land of theblameless _Æthiopians_, the most just of men, at whose tables the veryGods sat as guests. There, perchance, far up the sacred stream, in aland where no wrong ever came, there, if the Fates permitted, he mightfind the Golden Helen. 

If the Fates permitted: but all the adventure was of the Fates, who hadshown him to Meriamun in a dream. 

He turned it long in his mind and found little light. It seemed that ashe had drifted through darkness across a blood-red sea to the shores ofKhem, so he should wade through blood to that shore of Fate which theGods appointed. 

Yet after a while he shook sorrow from him, arose, bathed, anointedhimself, combed his dark locks, and girded on his golden armour. For nowhe remembered that this was the day when the Strange Hathor should standupon the pylon of the temple and call the people to her, and he wasminded to look upon her, and if need be to do battle with that whichguarded her. 

So he prayed to Aphrodite that she would help him, and he poured outwine to her and waited; he waited, but no answer came to his prayer. Yet as he turned away it chanced that he saw his countenance in the widegolden cup whence he had poured, and it seemed to him that it had grownmore fair and lost the stamp of years, and that his face was smooth andyoung as the face of that Odysseus who, many years ago, had sailed inthe black ships and looked back on the smoking ruins of windy Troy. Inthis he saw the hand of the Goddess, and knew that if she might notbe manifest in this land of strange Gods, yet she was with him. And, knowing this, his heart grew light as the heart of a boy from whomsorrow is yet a long way off, and who has not dreamed of death. 

Then he ate and drank, and when he had put from him the desire of foodhe arose and girded on the sword, Euryalus's gift, but the black bow heleft in its case. Now he was ready and about to set forth when Rei thePriest entered the chamber. 

"Whither goest thou, Eperitus?" asked Rei, the instructed Priest. "Andwhat is it that has made thy face so fair, as though many years had beenlifted from thy back?"

"'Tis but sweet sleep, Rei, " said the Wanderer. "Deeply I slept lastnight, and the weariness of my wanderings fell from me, and now I am asI was before I sailed across the blood-red sea into the night. "

"Sell thou the secret of this sleep to the ladies of Khem, " answered theaged priest, smiling, "and little shalt thou lack of wealth for all thydays. "

Thus he spake as though he believed the Wanderer, but in his heart heknew that the thing was of the Gods. 

The Wanderer answered:

"I go up to the Temple of the Hathor, for thou dost remember it isto-day that she stands upon the pylon brow and calls the people to her. Comest thou also, Rei?"

"Nay, nay, I come not, Eperitus. I am old indeed, but yet the bloodcreeps through these withered veins, and, perchance, if I came andlooked, the madness would seize me also, and I too should rush to myslaying. There is a way in which a man may listen to the voice of theHathor, and that is to have his eyes blindfolded, as many do. But eventhen he will tear the bandage from his eyes, and look, and die with theothers. Oh, go not up, Eperitus--I pray thee go not up. I love thee--Iknow not why--and am little minded to see thee dead. Though, perchance, "he added, as though to himself, "it would be well for those I serve ifthou wert dead, thou Wanderer, with the eyes of Fate. "

"Have no fear, Rei, " said the Wanderer, "as it is doomed so shall I dieand not otherwise. Never shall it be told, " he murmured in his heart, "that he who stood in arms against Scylla, the Horror of the Rock, turned back from any form of fear or from any shape of Love. "

Then Rei wrung his hands and went nigh to weeping, for to him it seemeda pitiful thing that so goodly a man and so great a hero should thusbe done to death. But the Wanderer passed out through the city, and Reiwent with him for a certain distance. At length they came to the roadset on either side with sphinxes, that leads from the outer wall ofbrick to the garden of the Temple of Hathor, and down this road hurrieda multitude of men of all races and of every age. Here the princewas borne along in his litter; here the young noble travelled in hischariot. Here came the slave bespattered with the mud of the fields;here the cripple limped upon his crutches; and here was the blind manled by a hound. And with each man came women: the wife of the man, orhis mother, or his sisters, or she to whom he was vowed in marriage. Weeping they came, and with soft words and clinging arms they strove tohold back him whom they loved. 

"Oh, my son! my son!" cried a woman, "hearken to thy mother's voice. Gonot up to look upon the Goddess, for if thou dost look then shalt thoudie, and thou alone art left alive to me. Two brothers of thine I bore, and behold, both are dead; and wilt thou die also, and leave me, whoam old, alone and desolate? Be not mad, my son, thou art the dearestof all; ever have I loved thee and tended thee. Come back, I pray--comeback. "

But her son heard not and heeded not, pressing on toward the Gates ofthe Heart's Desire. 

"Oh, my husband, my husband!" cried another, young, of gentle birth, andfair, who bare a babe on her left arm and with the right clutched herlord's broidered robe. "Oh, my husband, have I not loved thee and beenkind to thee, and wilt thou still go up to look upon the deadly gloryof the Hathor? They say she wears the beauty of the Dead. Lovest thoume not better than her who died five years agone, Merisa the daughter ofRois, though thou didst love her first? See, here is thy babe, thy babe, but one week born. Even from my bed of pain have I risen and followedafter thee down these weary roads, and I am like to lose my life for it. Here is thy babe, let it plead with thee. Let me die if so it must be, but go not thou up to thy death. It is no Goddess whom thou wilt see, but an evil spirit loosed from the under-world, and that shall be thydoom. Oh, if I please thee not, take thou another wife and I will makeher welcome, only go not up to thy death!"

But the man fixed his eyes upon the pylon tops, heeding her not, and atlength she sank upon the road, and there with the babe would have beencrushed by the chariots, had not the Wanderer borne her to one side ofthe way. 

Now, of all sights this was the most dreadful, for on every side rosethe prayers and lamentations of women, and still the multitude of menpressed on unheeding. 

"Now thou seest the power of Love, and how if a woman be but beautifulenough she may drag all men to ruin, " said Rei the Priest. 

"Yes, " said the Wanderer; "a strange sight, truly. Much blood hath thisHathor of thine upon her hands. "

"And yet thou wilt give her thine, Wanderer. "

"That I am not minded to do, " he answered; "yet I will look upon herface, so speak no more of it. "

Now they were come to the space before the bronze gates of the pylon ofthe outer court, and there the multitude gathered to the number of manyhundreds. Presently, as they watched, a priest came to the gates, that same priest who had shown the Wanderer the bodies in the baths ofbronze. He looked through the bars and cried aloud:

"Whoso would enter into the court and look upon the Holy Hathor let himdraw nigh. Know ye this, all men, the Hathor is to him who can win her. But if he pass not, then shall he die and be buried within the temple, nor shall he ever look upon the sun again. Of this ye are warned. Sincethe Hathor came again to Khem, of men seven hundred and three have goneto win her, and of bodies seven hundred and two lie within the vaults, for of all these men Pharaoh Meneptah alone hath gone back living. Yetthere is place for more! Enter, ye who would look upon the Hathor!"

Now there arose a mighty wailing from the women. They clung madly aboutthe necks of those who were dear to them, and some clung not in vain. For the hearts of many failed them at the last, and they shrank fromentering in. But a few of those who had already looked upon the Hathorfrom afar, perchance a score in all, struck the women from them andrushed up to the gates. 

"Surely thou wilt not enter in?" quoth Rei, clinging to the arm of theWanderer. "Oh, turn thy back on death and come back with me. I pray theeturn. "

"Nay, " said the Wanderer, "I will go in. "

Then Rei the Priest threw dust upon his head, wept aloud, and turned andfled, never stopping till he came to the Palace, where sat Meriamun theQueen. 

Now the priest unbarred a wicket in the gates of bronze, and one by onethose who were stricken of the madness entered in. For all of thesehad seen the Hathor many times from afar without the wall, and now theycould no more withstand their longing. And as they entered two otherpriests took them by the hand and bound their eyes with cloths, so thatunless they willed it they might not see the glory of the Hathor, butonly hear the sweetness of her voice. But two there were who would notbe blindfolded, and of these one was that man whose wife had fainted bythe way, and the other was a man sightless from his youth. For althoughhe might not see the beauty of the Goddess, this man was made mad by thesweetness of her voice. Now, when all had entered in, save theWanderer, there was a stir in the crowd, and a man rushed up. He wastravel-stained, he had a black beard, black eyes, and a nose hooked likea vulture's beak. 

"Hold!" he cried. "Hold! Shut not the gates! Night and day have Ijourneyed from the host of the Apura who fly into the wilderness. Nightand day have I journeyed, leaving wife and flocks and children and thePromise of the Land, that I may once more look upon the beauty of theHathor. Shut not the gates!"

"Pass in, " said the priest, "pass in, so shall we be rid of one of thosewhom Khem nurtured up to rob her. "

He entered; then, as the priest was about to bar the wicket, theWanderer strode forward, and his golden armour clashed beneath theportal. 

"Wouldst thou indeed enter to thy doom, thou mighty lord?" asked thepriest, for he knew him well again. 

"Ay, I enter; but perchance not to my doom, " answered the Wanderer. Thenhe passed in and the brazen gate was shut behind him. 

Now the two priests came forward to bind his eyes, but this he would notendure. 

"Not so, " he said; "I am come here to see what may be seen. "

"Go to, thou madman, go to! and die the death, " they answered, and ledall the men to the centre of the courtyard whence they might seethe pylon top. Then the priests also covered up their eyes and castthemselves at length upon the ground; so for a while they lay, and allwas silence within and without the court, for they waited the comingof the Hathor. The Wanderer glanced through the bars of bronze at themultitude gathered there. Silent they stood with upturned eyes, even thewomen had ceased from weeping and stood in silence. He looked at thosebeside him. Their bandaged faces were lifted and they stared towards thepylon top as though their vision pierced the cloths. The blind man, too, stared upward, and his pale lips moved, but no sound came from them. Nowat the foot of the pylon lay a little rim of shadow. Thinner and thinnerit grew as the moments crept on towards the perfect noon. Now there wasbut a line, and now the line was gone, for the sun's red disc burnedhigh in the blue heaven straight above the pylon brow. Then suddenly andfrom afar there came a faint sweet sound of singing, and at the firstnote of the sound a great sigh went up through the quiet air, from allthe multitude without. Those who were near the Wanderer sighed also, andtheir lips and fingers twitched, and he himself sighed, though he knewnot why. 

Nearer came the sweet sound of singing, and stronger it swelled, tillpresently those without the temple gate who were on higher ground caughtsight of her who sang. Then a hoarse roar went up from every throat, andmadness took them. On they rushed, dashing themselves against the gatesof bronze and the steep walls on either side, and beat upon them madlywith their fists and brows, and climbed on each other's shoulders, gnawing at the bars with their teeth, crying to be let in. But the womenthrew their arms about them and screamed curses on her whose beautybrought all men to madness. 

So it went for a while, till presently the Wanderer looked up, and lo!upon the pylon's brow stood the woman's self, and at her coming all wereonce more silent. She was tall and straight, clad in clinging white, but on her breast there glowed a blood-red ruby stone, fashioned likea star, and from it fell red drops that stained for one moment thewhiteness of her robes, and then the robe was white again. Her goldenhair was tossed this way and that, and shone in the sunlight, her armsand neck were bare, and she held one hand before her eyes as though tohide the brightness of her beauty. For, indeed, she could not be calledbeautiful but Beauty itself. 

And they who had not loved saw in her that first love whom no man hasever won, and they who had loved saw that first love whom every man haslost. And all about her rolled a glory--like the glory of the dying day. Sweetly she sang a song of promise, and her voice was the voice of eachman's desire, and the heart of the Wanderer thrilled in answer to it asthrills a harp smitten by a cunning hand; and thus she sang:

 Whom hast thou longed for most, True love of mine? Whom hast thou loved and lost? Lo, she is thine!

 She that another wed Breaks from her vow; She that hath long been dead Wakes for thee now. 

 Dreams haunt the hapless bed, Ghosts haunt the night, Life crowns her living head, Love and Delight. 

 Nay, not a dream nor ghost, Nay, but Divine, She that was loved and lost Waits to be thine!

She ceased, and a moan of desire went up from all who heard. 

Then the Wanderer saw that those beside him tore at the bandages abouttheir brows and rent them loose. Only the priests who lay upon theground stirred not, though they also moaned. 

And now again she sang, still holding her hand before her face:

 Ye that seek me, ye that sue me, Ye that flock beneath my tower, Ye would win me, would undo me, I must perish in an hour, Dead before the Love that slew me, clasped the Bride and crushed the flower. 

 Hear the word and mark the warning, Beauty lives but in your sight, Beauty fades from all men's scorning In the watches of the night, Beauty wanes before the morning, and Love dies in his delight. 

She ceased, and once more there was silence. Then suddenly she bentforward across the pylon brow so far that it seemed that she must fall, and stretching out her arms as though to clasp those beneath, showed allthe glory of her loveliness. 

The Wanderer looked, then dropped his eyes as one who has seen thebrightness of the noonday sun. In the darkness of his mind the world waslost, and he could think of naught save the clamour of the people, whichfretted his ears. They were all crying, and none were listening. 

"See! see!" shouted one. "Look at her hair; it is dark as the raven'swing, and her eyes--they are dark as night. Oh, my love! my love!"

"See! see!" cried another, "were ever skies so blue as those eyes ofhers, was ever foam so white as those white arms?"

"Even so she looked whom once I wed many summers gone, " murmured athird, "even so when first I drew her veil. Hers was that gentle smilebreaking like ripples on the water, hers that curling hair, hers thatchild-like grace. "

"Was ever woman so queenly made?" said a fourth. "Look now on the browof pride, look on the deep, dark eyes of storm, the arched lips, and theimperial air. Ah, here indeed is a Goddess meet for worship. "

"Not so I see her, " cried a fifth, that man who had come from the hostof the Apura. "Pale she is and fair, tall indeed, but delicately shaped, brown is her hair, and brown are her great eyes like the eyes of a stag, and ah, sadly she looks upon me, looking for my love. "

"My eyes are opened, " screamed the blind man at the Wanderer's side. "Myeyes are opened, and I see the pylon tower and the splendid sun. Lovehath touched me on the eyes and they are opened. But lo! not one shapehath she but many shapes. Oh, she is Beauty's self, and no tongue maytell her glory. Let me die! let me die, for my eyes are opened. I havelooked on Beauty's self! I know what all the world journeys on to seek, and why we die and what we go to find in death. "

VI

THE WARDENS OF THE GATE

The clamour swelled or sank, and the men called or cried the namesof many women, some dead, some lost. Others were mute, silent in thepresence of the World's Desire, silent as when we see lost faces ina dream. The Wanderer had looked once and then cast down his eyes andstood with his face hidden in his hands. He alone waited and strove tothink; the rest were abandoned to the bewilderment of their passions andtheir amaze. 

What was it that he had seen? That which he had sought his whole lifelong; sought by sea and land, not knowing what he sought. For this hehad wandered with a hungry heart, and now was the hunger of his heartto be appeased? Between him and her was the unknown barrier and theinvisible Death. Was he to pass the unmarked boundary, to force thoseguarded gates and achieve where all had failed? Had a magic deceived hiseyes? Did he look but on a picture and a vision that some art could callagain from the haunted place of Memory?

He sighed and looked again. Lo! in his charmed sight a fair girl seemedto stand upon the pylon brow, and on her head she bore a shining urn ofbronze. 

He knew her now. He had seen her thus at the court of King Tyndareus ashe drove in his chariot through the ford of Eurotas; thus he had seenher also in the dream on the Silent Isle. 

Again he sighed and again he looked. Now in his charmed sight a womansat, whose face was the face of the girl, grown more lovely far, but sadwith grief and touched with shame. 

He saw her and he knew her. So he had seen her in Troy towers when hestole thither in a beggar's guise from the camp of the Achæans. So hehad seen her when she saved his life in Ilios. 

Again he sighed and again he looked, and now he saw the Golden Helen. 

She stood upon the pylon's brow. She stood with arms outstretched, with eyes upturned, and on her shining face there was a smile like theinfinite smile of the dawn. Oh, now indeed he knew the shape that wasBeauty's self--the innocent Spirit of Love sent on earth by the undyingGods to be the doom and the delight of men; to draw them through theways of strife to the unknown end. 

Awhile the Golden Helen stood thus looking up and out to the worldsbeyond; to the peace beyond the strife, to the goal beyond the grave. Thus she stood while men scarce dared to breathe, summoning all to comeand take that which upon the earth is guarded so invincibly. 

Then once more she sang, and as she sang, slowly drew herself away, tillat length nothing was left of the vision of her save the sweetness ofher dying song. 

 Who wins his Love shall lose her, Who loses her shall gain, For still the spirit woos her, A soul without a stain; And Memory still pursues her With longings not in vain!

 He loses her who gains her, Who watches day by day The dust of time that stains her, The griefs that leave her grey, The flesh that yet enchains her Whose grace hath passed away!

 Oh, happier he who gains not The Love some seem to gain: The joy that custom stains not Shall still with him remain, The loveliness that wanes not, The love that ne'er can wane. 

 In dreams she grows not older The lands of Dream among, Though all the world wax colder, Though all the songs be sung, In dreams doth he behold her Still fair and kind and young. 

Now the silence died away, and again madness came upon those whohad listened and looked. The men without the wall once more hurledthemselves against the gates, while the women clung to them, shriekingcurses on the beauty of the Hathor, for the song meant nothing to thesewomen, and their arms were about those whom they loved and who won themtheir bread. But most of the men who were in the outer court rushedup to the inner gates within which stood the alabaster shrine of theHathor. Some flung themselves upon the ground and clutched at it, asin dreams men fling themselves down to be saved from falling into a pitthat has no bottom. Yet as in such an evil slumber the dreamer isdrawn inch by inch to the mouth of the pit by an unseen hand, so thesewretched men were dragged along the ground by the might of theirown desire. In vain they set their feet against the stones to holdthemselves from going, for they thrust forward yet more fiercelywith their hands, and thus little by little drew near the inner gateswrithing forwards yet moving backwards like a wounded snake draggedalong by a rope. For of those who thus entered the outer court andlooked upon the Hathor, few might go back alive. 

Now the priests drew the cloths from their eyes, and rising, flungwide the second gates, and there, but a little way off, the veil of theshrine wavered as if in a wind. For now the doors beyond the veil werethrown open, as might be seen when the wind swayed its Tyrian web, andthrough the curtain came the sound of the same sweet singing. 

"Draw near! Draw near!" cried the ancient priest. "Let him who would winthe Hathor draw near!"

Now at first the Wanderer was minded to rush on. But his desire had notwholly overcome him, nor had his wisdom left him. He took counsel withhis heart and waited to let the others go, and to see how it fared withthem. 

The worshippers were now hurrying back and now darting onwards, as fearand longing seized them, till the man who was blind drew near, led bythe hand of a priest, for his hound might not enter the second court ofthe temple. 

"Do ye fear?" he cried. "Cowards, I fear not. It is better to look uponthe glory of the Hathor and die than to live and never see her more. Setmy face straight, ye priests, set my face straight, at the worst I canbut die. "

So they led him as near the curtains as they dared to go and set hisface straight. Then with a great cry he rushed on. But he was caught andwhirled about like a leaf in a wind, so that he fell. He rose and againrushed on, again to be whirled back. A third time he rose and rushedon, smiting with his blind man's staff. The blow fell, and stayed inmid-air, and there came a hollow sound as of a smitten shield, and thestaff that dealt the blow was shattered. Then there was a noise like thenoise of clashing swords, and the man instantly sank down dead, thoughthe Wanderer could see no wound upon him. 

"Draw near! Draw near!" cried the priest again. "This one is fallen. Lethim who would win the Hathor draw near!"

Then the man who had fled from the host of the Apura rushed forward, crying on the Lion of his tribe. Back he was hurled, and back again, butat the third time once more there came the sound of clashing swords, andhe too fell dead. 

"Draw near! Draw near!" cried the priest. "Another has fallen! Let himwho would win the Hathor draw near!"

And now man after man rushed on, to be first hurled back and then slainof the clashing swords. And at length all were slain save the Wandereralone. 

Then the priest spake:

"Wilt thou indeed rush on to doom, thou glorious man? Thou hast seen thefate of many. Be warned and turn away. "

"Never did I turn from man or ghost, " said the Wanderer, and drawinghis short sword he came near, warily covering his head with his broadshield, while the priests stood back to see him die. Now, the Wandererhad marked that none were touched till they stood at the very thresholdof the doorway. Therefore he uttered a prayer to Aphrodite and came onslowly till his feet were within a bow's length of the threshold, andthere he stood and listened. Now he could hear the very words of thesong that the Hathor sang as she wove at her loom. So dread and sweetit was that for a while he thought no more on the Guardians of the Gate, nor of how he might win the way, nor of aught save the song. For shewas singing shrill and clear in his own dear tongue, the tongue of theAchæans:

 Paint with threads of gold and scarlet, paint the battles fought for me, All the wars for Argive Helen; storm and sack by land or sea; All the tale of loves and sorrows that have been and are to be. 

 Paint her lips that like a cup have pledged the lips of heroes all, Paint her golden hair unwhitened while the many winters fall, Paint the beauty that is mistress of the wide world and its thrall!

 Paint the storms of ships and chariots, rain of arrows flying far, Paint the waves of Warfare leaping up at Beauty like a star, Like a star that pale and trembling hangs above the waves of War. 

 Paint the ancient Ilios fallen; paint the flames that scaled the sky, When the foe was in the fortress, when the trumpet and the cry Rang of men in their last onset, men whose hour had dawned to die. 

 Woe for me once loved of all men, me that never yet have known How to love the hearts that loved me. Woe for woe, who hear the moan Of my lovers' ghosts that perished in their cities overthrown. 

 Is there not, of Gods or mortals, oh, ye Gods, is there not one-- One whose heart shall mate with my heart, one to love ere all be done, All the tales of wars that shall be for my love beneath the sun?

Now the song died away, and the Wanderer once more bethought him of theWardens of the Gate and of the battle which he must fight. But ashe braced himself to rush on against the unseen foe the music of thesinging swelled forth again, and whether he willed it or willed it not, so sweet was its magic that there he must wait till the song was done. And now stronger and more gladly rang the sweet shrill voice, like thevoice of one who has made moan through the livelong winter night, andnow sees the chariot of the dawn climbing the eastern sky. And thus theHathor sang:

 Ah, within my heart a hunger for the love unfelt, unknown, Stirs at length, and wakes and murmurs as a child that wakes to moan, Left to sleep within some silent house of strangers and alone. 

 So my heart awakes, and waking, moans with hunger and with cold, Cries in pain of dim remembrance for the joy that was of old; For the love that was, that shall be, half forgot and half foretold. 

 Have I dreamed it or remembered? In another world was I, Lived and loved in alien seasons, moved beneath a golden sky, In a golden clime where never came the strife of men that die. 

 But the Gods themselves were jealous, for our bliss was over great, And they brought on us division, and the horror of their Hate, And they set the Snake between us, and the twining coils of Fate. 

 And they said, "Go forth and seek each other's face, and only find Shadows of that face ye long for, dreams of days left far behind, Love the shadows and be loved with loves that waver as the wind. "

Once more the sweet singing died away, but as the Wanderer grasped hissword and fixed the broad shield upon his arm he remembered the dreamof Meriamun the Queen, which had been told him by Rei the Priest. For inthat dream twain who had sinned were made three, and through many deathsand lives must seek each other's face. And now it seemed that the burdenof the song was the burden of the dream. 

Then he thought no more on dreams, or songs, or omens, but only on thedeadly foe that stood before him wrapped in darkness, and on Helen, inwhose arms he yet should lie, for so the Goddess had sworn to him insea-girt Ithaca. He spoke no word, he named no God, but sprang forwardas a lion springs from his bed of reeds; and, lo! his buckler clashedagainst shields that barred the way, and invisible arms seized him tohurl him back. But no weakling was the Wanderer, thus to be pushed asideby magic, but the stoutest man left alive in the whole world now thatAias, Telamon's son, was dead. The priests wondered as they saw how hegave back never a step, for all the might of the Wardens of the Gate, but lifted his short sword and hewed down so terribly that fire leaptfrom the air where the short sword fell, the good short sword ofEuryalus the Phæacian. Then came the clashing of the swords, and fromall the golden armour that once the god-like Paris wore, ay, frombuckler, helm, and greaves, and breastplate the sparks streamed up asthey stream from the anvil of the smith when he smites great blows onswords made white with fire. 

Swift as hail fell the blows of the unseen blades upon the goldenarmour, but he who wore it took no harm, nor was it so much as markedwith the dint of the swords. So while the priests wondered at thismiracle the viewless Wardens of the Gate smote at the Wanderer, and theWanderer smote at them again. Then of a sudden he knew this, that theywho barred the path were gone, for no more blows fell, and his swordonly cut the air. 

Then he rushed on and passed behind the veil and stood within theshrine. 

But as the curtains swung behind him the singing rose again upon theair, and he might not move, but stood fixed with his eyes gazing where, far up, a loom was set within the shrine. For the sound of the singingcame from behind the great web gleaming in the loom, the sound of thesong of Helen as she heard the swords clash and the ringing of theharness of those whose knees were loosened in death. It was thus shesang:

 Clamour of iron on iron, and shrieking of steel upon steel, Hark how they echo again! Life with the dead is at war, and the mortals are shaken and reel, The living are slain by the slain!

 Clamour of iron on iron; like music that chimes with a song, So with my life doth it chime, And my footsteps must fall in the dance of Erinnys, a revel of wrong, Till the day of the passing of Time!

 Ghosts of the dead that have loved me, your love have been vanquished of death, But unvanquished of death is your hate; Say, is there none that may woo me and win me of all that draw breath, Not one but is envied of Fate?

Now the song died, and the Wanderer looked up, and before him stoodthree shadows of mighty men clad in armour. He gazed upon them, and heknew the blazons painted on their shields; he knew them for heroes longdead--Pirithous, Theseus, and Aias. 

They looked upon him, and then cried with one voice:

"Hail to thee, Odysseus of Ithaca, son of Laertes!"

"Hail to thee, " cried the Wanderer, "Theseus, Ægeus' son! Once beforedidst thou go down into the House of Hades, and alive thou camest forthagain. Hast thou crossed yet again the stream of Ocean, and dost thoulive in the sunlight? For of old I sought thee and found thee not in theHouse of Hades?"

The semblance of Theseus answered: "In the House of Hades I abide thisday, and in the fields of asphodel. But that thou seest is a shadow, sent forth by Queen Persephone, to be the guard of the beauty of Helen. "

"Hail to thee, Pirithous, Ixion's son, " cried the Wanderer again. "Hastthou yet won the dread Persephone to be thy love? And why doth Hadesgive his rival holiday to wander in the sunlight, for of old I soughtthee, and found thee not in the House of Hades. "

Then the semblance of Pirithous answered:

"In the House of Hades I dwell this day, and that thou seest is but ashadow which goes with the shadow of the hero Theseus. For where he isam I, and where he goes I go, and our very shadows are not sundered; butwe guard the beauty of Helen. "

"Hail to thee, Aias, Telamon's son, " cried the Wanderer. "Hast thou notforgotten thy wrath against me, for the sake of those accursed arms thatI won from thee, the arms of Achilles, son of Peleus? For of old in theHouse of Hades I spoke to thee, but thou wouldst not answer one word, soheavy was thine anger. "

Then the semblance of Aias made answer: "With iron upon iron, and thestroke of bronze on bronze, would I answer thee, if I were yet a livingman and looked upon the sunlight. But I smite with a shadowy spear andslay none but men foredoomed, and I am the shade of Aias who dwells inHades. Yet the Queen Persephone sent me forth to be the guard of thebeauty of Helen. "

Then the Wanderer spake. 

"Tell me, ye shadows of the sons of heroes, is the way closed, and dothe Gods forbid it, or may I that am yet a living man pass forward andgaze on that ye guard, on the beauty of Helen?"

Then each of the three nodded with his head, and smote once upon hisshield, saying:

"Pass by, but look not back upon us, till thou hast seen thy desire. "

Then the Wanderer went by, into the innermost chamber of the alabastershrine. 

Now when the shadows had spoken thus, they grew dim and vanished, andthe Wanderer, as they had commanded, drew slowly up on the alabastershrine, till at length he stood on the hither side of the web uponthe loom. It was a great web, wide and high, and hid all the innermostrecesses of the shrine. Here he waited, not knowing how he should breakin upon the Hathor. 

As he stood wondering thus his buckler slipped from his loosened handand clashed upon the marble floor, and as it clashed the voice of theHathor took up the broken song; and thus she sang ever more sweetly:--

 Ghosts of the dead that have loved me, your love has been vanquished by Death, But unvanquished by Death is your Hate; Say, is there none that may woo me and win me of all that draw breath, Not one but is envied of Fate?

 None that may pass you unwounded, unscathed of invisible spears-- By the splendour of Zeus there is one, And he comes, and my spirit is touched as Demeter is touched by the tears Of the Spring and the kiss of the sun. 

 For he comes, and my heart that was chill as a lake in the season of snow, Is molten, and glows as with fire. And the Love that I knew not is born and he laughs in my heart, and I know The name and the flame of Desire. 

 As a flame I am kindled, a flame that is blown by a wind from the North, By a wind that is deadly with cold, And the hope that awoke in me faints, for the Love that is born shall go forth To my Love, and shall die as of old!

Now the song sobbed itself away, but the heart of the Wanderer echoed toits sweetness as a lyre moans and thrills when the hand of the strikeris lifted from the strings. 

For a while he stood thus, hidden by the web upon the loom, while hislimbs shook like the leaves of the tall poplar, and his face turnedwhite as turn the poplar leaves. Then desire overcame him, and a longinghe could not master, to look upon the face of her who sang, and heseized the web upon the loom, and rent it with a great rending noise, sothat it fell down on either side of him, and the gold coils rippled athis feet. 

VII

THE SHADOW IN THE SUNLIGHT

The torn web fell--the last veil of the Strange Hathor. It fell, and allits unravelled threads of glittering gold and scarlet rippled and coiledabout the Wanderer's feet, and about the pillars of the loom. 

The web was torn, the veil was rent, the labour was lost, the picturedstory of loves and wars was all undone. 

But there, white in the silvery dusk of the alabaster shrine, there wasthe visible Helen, the bride and the daughter of Mystery, the World'sDesire!

There shone that fabled loveliness of which no story was too strange, ofwhich all miracles seemed true. There, her hands folded on her lap, herhead bowed--there sat she whose voice was the echo of all sweet voices, she whose shape was the mirror of all fair forms, she whose changefulbeauty, so they said, was the child of the changeful moon. 

Helen sat in a chair of ivory, gleaming even through the sunshine of heroutspread hair. She was clothed in soft folds of white; on her breastgleamed the Starstone, the red stone of the sea-deeps that melts in thesunshine, but that melted not on the breast of Helen. Moment by momentthe red drops from the ruby heart of the star fell on her snowy raiment, fell and vanished, --fell and vanished, --and left no stain. 

The Wanderer looked on her face, but the beauty and the terror of it, asshe raised it, were more than he could bear, and he stood like those whosaw the terror and the beauty of that face which changes men to stone. 

For the lovely eyes of Helen stared wide, her lips, yet quivering withthe last notes of song, were wide open in fear. She seemed like one whowalks alone, and suddenly, in the noonday light, meets the hated dead;encountering the ghost of an enemy come back to earth with the instantsummons of doom. 

For a moment the sight of her terror made even the Wanderer afraid. Whatwas the horror she beheld in this haunted shrine, where was none savethemselves alone? What was with them in the shrine?

Then he saw that her eyes were fixed on his golden armour which Parisonce had worn, on the golden shield with the blazon of the White Bull, on the golden helm, whose visor was down so that it quite hid his eyesand his face--and then at last her voice broke from her:

"_Paris! Paris! Paris!_ Has Death lost hold of thee? Hast thou cometo drag me back to thee and to shame? Paris, dead Paris! Who gave theecourage to pass the shadows of men whom on earth thou hadst not dared toface in war?"

Then she wrung her hands, and laughed aloud with the empty laugh offear. 

A thought came into that crafty mind of the Wanderer's, and he answeredher, not in his own voice, but in the smooth, soft, mocking voice of thetraitor, Paris, whom he had heard forswear himself in the oath beforeIlios. 

"So, lady, thou hast not yet forgiven Paris? Thou weavest the ancientweb, thou singest the ancient songs--art thou still unkind as of old?"

"Why art thou come back to taunt me?" she said, and now she spoke as ifan old familiar fear and horror were laying hold of her and masteringher again, after long freedom. "Was it not enough to betray me in thesemblance of my wedded lord? Why dost thou mock?"

"In love all arts are fair, " he answered in the voice of Paris. "Manyhave loved thee, Lady, and they are all dead for thy sake, and no lovebut mine has been more strong than death. There is none to blame us now, and none to hinder. Troy is down, the heroes are white dust; only Lovelives yet. Wilt thou not learn, Lady, how a shadow can love?"

She had listened with her head bowed, but now she leaped up with blazingeyes and face of fire. 

"Begone!" she said, "the heroes are dead for my sake, and to my shame, but the shame is living yet. Begone! Never in life or death shall mylips touch the false lips that lied away my honour, and the false facethat wore the favour of my lord's. "

For it was by shape-shifting and magic art, as poets tell, that Parisfirst beguiled Fair Helen. 

Then the Wanderer spoke again with the sweet, smooth voice of Paris, sonof Priam. 

"As I passed up the shrine where thy glory dwells, Helen, I heard theesing. And thou didst sing of the waking of thy heart, of the arising ofLove within thy soul, and of the coming of one for whom thou dost wait, whom thou didst love long since and shalt love for ever more. And asthou sangest, I came, I Paris, who was thy love, and who am thy love, and who alone of ghosts and men shall be thy love again. Wilt thou stillbid me go?"

"I sang, " she answered, "yes, as the Gods put it in my heart so Isang--for indeed it seemed to me that one came who was my love of old, and whom alone I must love, alone for ever. But thou wast not in myheart, thou false Paris! Nay, I will tell thee, and with the name willscare thee back to Hell. He was in my heart whom once as a maid I sawdriving in his chariot through the ford of Eurotas while I bore waterfrom the well. He was in my heart whom once I saw in Troy, when he creptthither clad in beggar's guise. Ay, Paris, I will name him by his name, for though he is long dead, yet him alone methinks I loved from thevery first, and him alone I shall love till my deathlessness isdone--Odysseus, son of Laertes, Odysseus of Ithaca, he was named amongmen, and Odysseus was in my heart as I sang and in my heart he shallever be, though the Gods in their wrath have given me to others, to myshame, and against my will. "

Now when the Wanderer heard her speak, and heard his own name upon herlips, and knew that the Golden Helen loved him alone, it seemed to himas though his heart would burst his harness. No word could he find inhis heart to speak, but he raised the visor of his helm. 

She looked--she saw and knew him for Odysseus--even Odysseus of Ithaca. Then in turn she hid her eyes with her hands, and speaking through themsaid:

"Oh, Paris! ever wast thou false, but, ghost or man, of all thy shamesthis is the shamefullest. Thou hast taken the likeness of a hero dead, and thou hast heard me speak such words of him as Helen never spokebefore. Fie on thee, Paris! fie on thee! who wouldest trick me intoshame as once before thou didst trick me in the shape of Menelaus, whowas my lord. Now I will call on Zeus to blast thee with his bolts. Nay, not on Zeus will I call, but on Odysseus' self. _Odysseus! Odysseus!_Come thou from the shades and smite this Paris, this trickster, who evenin death finds ways to mock thee. "

She ceased, and with eyes upturned and arms outstretched murmured, "Odysseus! Odysseus! Come. "

Slowly the Wanderer drew near to the glory of the Golden Helen--slowly, slowly he came, till his dark eyes looked into her eyes of blue. Then atlast he found his voice and spake. 

"Helen! Argive Helen!" he said, "I am no shadow come up from Hell totorment thee, and of Trojan Paris I know nothing. For I am Odysseus, Odysseus of Ithaca, a living man beneath the sunlight. Hither am I cometo see thee, hither I am come to win thee to my heart. For yonder inIthaca Aphrodite visited me in a dream, and bade me wander out upon theseas till at length I found thee, Helen, and saw the Red Star blaze uponthy breast. And I have wandered, and I have dared, and I have heard thysong, and rent the web of Fate, and I have seen the Star, and lo! atlast, at last! I find thee. Well I saw thou knewest the arms of Paris, who was thy husband, and to try thee I spoke with the voice of Paris, as of old thou didst feign the voices of our wives when we lay in thewooden horse within the walls of Troy. Thus I drew the sweetness of thylove from thy secret breast, as the sun draws out the sweetness of theflowers. But now I declare myself to be Odysseus, clad in the mail ofParis--Odysseus come on this last journey to be thy love and lord. " Andhe ceased. 

She trembled and looked at him doubtfully, but at last she spoke:

"Well do I remember, " she said, "that when I washed the limbs ofOdysseus, in the halls of Ilios, I marked a great white scar beneath hisknee. If indeed thou art Odysseus, and not a phantom from the Gods, showme that great scar. "

Then the Wanderer smiled, and, resting his buckler against the pillarof the loom, drew off his golden greave, and there was the scar that theboar dealt with his tusk on the Parnassian hill when Odysseus was a boy. 

"Look, Lady, " he said; "is this the scar that once thine eyes looked onin the halls of Troy?"

"Yea, " she said, "it is the very scar, and now I know that thou art noghost and no lying shape, but Odysseus' self, come to be my love andlord, " and she looked most sweetly in his eyes. 

Now the Wanderer wavered no more, but put out his arms to gather her tohis heart. Now the Red Star was hidden on his breast, now the red dropsdripped from the Star upon his mail, and the face of her who is theWorld's Desire grew soft in the shadow of his helm, while her eyes weremelted to tears beneath his kiss. The Gods send all lovers like joy!

Softly she sighed, softly drew back from his arms, and her lips wereopened to speak when a change came over her face. The kind eyes werefull of fear again, as she gazed where, through the window of the shrineof alabaster, the sunlight flickered in gold upon the chapel floor. Whatwas that which flickered in the sunlight? or was it only the dance ofthe motes in the beam? There was no shadow cast in the sunshine; whydid she gaze as if she saw another watching this meeting of their loves?However it chanced, she mastered her fear; there was even a smile on herlips and mirth in her eyes as she turned and spoke again. 

"Odysseus, thou art indeed the cunningest of men. Thou hast stolen mysecret by thy craft; who save thee would dream of craft in such an hour?For when I thought thee Paris, and thy face was hidden by thy helm, Icalled on Odysseus in my terror, as a child cries to a mother. MethinksI have ever held him dear; always I have found him ready at need, thoughthe Gods have willed that till this hour my love might not be known, nay, not to my own heart; so I called on Odysseus, and those words werewrung from me to scare false Paris back to his own place. But the wordsthat should have driven Paris down to Hell drew Odysseus to my breast. And now it is done, and I will not go back upon my words, for we havekissed our kiss of troth, before the immortal Gods have we kissed, andthose ghosts who guard the way to Helen, and whom thou alone couldstpass, as it was fated, are witnesses to our oath. And now the ghostsdepart, for no more need they guard the beauty of Helen. It is given tothee to have and keep, and now is Helen once more a very woman, forat thy kiss the curse was broken. Ah, friend! since my lord died inpleasant Lacedæmon, what things have I seen and suffered by the Gods'decree! But two things I will tell thee, Odysseus, and thou shalt readthem as thou mayest. Though never before in thy life-days did thy lipstouch mine, yet I know that not now for the first time we kiss. And thisI know also, for the Gods have set it in my heart, that though our loveshall be short, and little joy shall we have one of another, yet deathshall not end it. For, Odysseus, I am a daughter of the Gods, and thoughI sleep and forget that which has been in my sleep, and though my shapechange as but now it seemed to change in the eyes of those ripe to die, yet I die not. And for thee, though thou art mortal, death shall be butas the short summer nights that mark off day from day. For thou shaltlive again, Odysseus, as thou hast lived before, and life by life weshall meet and love till the end is come. "

As the Wanderer listened he thought once more of that dream of Meriamunthe Queen, which the priest Rei had told him. But he said nothing of itto Helen; for about the Queen and her words to him it seemed wisest notto speak. 

"It will be well to live, Lady, if life by life I find thee for a love. "

"Life by life thou shalt find me, Odysseus, in this shape or in thatshalt thou find me--for beauty has many forms, and love has manynames--but thou shalt ever find me but to lose me again. I tell theethat as but now thou wonnest thy way through the ranks of those whowatch me, the cloud lifted from my mind, and I remembered, and Iforesaw, and I knew why I, the loved of many, might never love in turn. I knew then, Odysseus, that I am but the instrument of the Gods, who useme for their ends. And I knew that I loved thee, and thee only, but witha love that began before the birth-bed, and shall not be consumed by thefuneral flame. "

"So be it, Lady, " said the Wanderer, "for this I know, that never haveI loved woman or Goddess as I love thee, who art henceforth as the heartin my breast, that without which I may not live. "

"Now speak on, " she said, "for such words as these are like music in myears. "

"Ay, I will speak on. Short shall be our love, thou sayest, Lady, and myown heart tells me that it is born to be brief of days. I know that nowI go on my last voyaging, and that death comes upon me from the water, the swiftest death that may be. This then I would dare to ask: Whenshall we twain be one? For if the hours of life be short, let us lovewhile we may. "

Now Helen's golden hair fell before her eyes like the bride's veil, andshe was silent for a time. Then she spoke:

"Not now, and not while I dwell in this holy place may we be wed, Odysseus, for so should we call down upon us the hate of Gods and men. Tell me, then, where thou dwellest in the city, and I will come to thee. Nay, it is not meet. Hearken, Odysseus. To-morrow, one hour before themidnight, see that thou dost stand without the pylon gates of this mytemple; then I will pass out to thee as well I may, and thou shalt knowme by the jewel, the Star-stone on my breast that shines through thedarkness, and by that alone, and lead me whither thou wilt. For thenthou shalt be my lord, and I will be thy wife. And thereafter, as theGods show us, so will we go. For know, it is in my mind to fly this landof Khem, where month by month the Gods have made the people die for me. So till then, farewell, Odysseus, my love, found after many days. "

"It is well, Lady, " answered the Wanderer. "To-morrow night I meet theewithout the pylon gates. I also am minded to fly this land of witchcraftand of horror, but I may scarce depart till Pharaoh return again. For hehas gone down to battle and left me to guard his palace. "

"Of that we will talk hereafter. Go now! Go swiftly, for here we may nottalk more of earthly love, " said the Golden Helen. 

Then he took her hand and kissed it and passed from before her glory asa man amazed. 

But in his foolish wisdom he spoke no word to her of Meriamun the Queen. 

VIII

THE LOOSING OF THE SPIRIT OF REI

Rei the Priest had fled with what speed he might from the Gates ofDeath, those gates that guarded the loveliness of Helen and opened onlyupon men doomed to die. The old man was heavy at heart, for he lovedthe Wanderer. Among the dark children of Khem he had seen none like thisAchæan, none so goodly, so strong, and so well versed in all arts ofwar. He remembered how this man had saved the life of her he loved aboveall women--of Meriamun, the moon-child, the fairest queen who had satupon the throne of Egypt, the fairest and the most learned, save Taiaonly. He bethought him of the Wanderer's beauty as he stood upon theboard while the long shafts hailed down the hall. Then he recalledthe vision of Meriamun, which she had told him long years ago, and theshadow in a golden helm which watched the changed Hataska. The more hethought, the more he was perplexed and lost in wonder. What did the Godsintend? Of one thing he was sure: the leaders of the host of dreams hadmocked Meriamun. The man of her vision would never be her love: he hadgone to meet his doom at the door of the Chapel Perilous. 

So Rei hasted on, stumbling in his speed, till he came to the Palace andpassed through its halls towards his chamber. At the entrance of her ownplace he met Meriamun the Queen. There she stood in the doorway like apicture in its sculptured frame, nor could any sight be more beautifulthan she was, clad in her Royal robes, and crowned with the goldensnakes. Her black hair lay soft and deep on her, and her eyes lookedstrangely forth from beneath the ivory of her brow. 

He bowed low before her and would have passed on, but she stayed him. 

"Whither goest thou, Rei?" she asked, "and why is thy face so sad?"

"I go about my business, Queen, " he answered, "and I am sad because notidings come of Pharaoh, nor of how it has fared with him and the hostof the Apura. "

"Perchance thou speakest truth, and yet not all the truth, " sheanswered. "Enter, I would have speech with thee. "

So he entered, and at her command seated himself before her in thevery seat where the Wanderer had sat. Now, as he sat thus, of a suddenMeriamun the Queen slid to her knees before him, and tears were inher eyes and her breast was shaken with sobs. And while he wondered, thinking that she wept at last for her son who was dead among thefirstborn, she hid her face in her hands upon his knees, and trembled. 

"What ails thee, Queen, my fosterling?" he said. But she only took hishand, and laid her own in it, and the old priest's eyes were dim withtears. So she sat for awhile, and then she looked up, but still she didnot find words. And he caressed the beautiful Imperial head, that noman had seen bowed before. "What is it, my daughter?" he said, and sheanswered at last:

"Hear me, old friend, who art my only friend--for if I speak not myheart will surely burst; or if it break not, my brain will burn and Ishall be no more a Queen but a living darkness, where vapours creep, andwandering lights shine faintly on the ruin of my mind. Mindest thou thathour--it was the night after the hateful night that saw me Pharaoh'swife--when I crept to thee and told thee the vision that had come uponmy soul, had come to mock me even at Pharaoh's side?"

"I mind it well, " said Rei; "it was a strange vision, nor might mywisdom interpret it. "

"And mindest thou what I told thee of the man of my vision--the gloriousman whom I must love, he who was clad in golden armour and wore a goldenhelm wherein a spear-point of bronze stood fast?"

"Yes, I mind it, " said Rei. 

"And how is that man named?" she asked, whispering and staring on himwith wide eyes. "Is he not named Eperitus, the Wanderer? And hath he notcome hither, the spear-point in his helm? And is not the hand of Fateupon me, Meriamun? Hearken, Rei, hearken! I love him as it was fatedI should love. When first I looked on him as he came up the Hall ofAudience in his glory, I knew him. I knew him for that man who sharesthe curse laid aforetime on him, and on the woman, and on me, when, inan unknown place, twain became three and were doomed to strive fromlife to life and work each other's woe upon the earth. I knew him, Rei, though he knew me not, and I say that my soul shook at the echo of hisstep, and my heart blossomed as the black earth blossoms when afterflood Sihor seeks his banks again. A glory came upon me, Rei, and Ilooked back through all the mists of time and knew him for my love, andI looked forward into the depths of time to be and knew him for my love. Then I looked on the present hour, and naught could I see but darkness, and naught could I hear but the groans of dying men, and a shrill soundas of a woman singing. "

"An ill tale, Queen, " said Rei. 

"Ay, an ill tale, Rei, but half untold. Hearken again, I will tell theeall. Madness hath entered into me from the Hathor of Atarhechis, theQueen of Desire. I am mad with love, even I who never loved. Oh, Rei!Rei! I would win this man. Nay, look not so sternly on me, it is Fatethat drives me on. Last night I spoke to him and discovered to him thename he hides from us, his own name, Odysseus, Laertes' son, Odysseus ofIthaca. Ay, thou startest, but so it is. I learned it by my magic, andwrung the truth even from the guile of the most crafty of men. But itseemed to me that he turned from me, though this much I won from him, that he had journeyed from far to seek me, the Bride that the Gods havepromised him. "

The priest leaped up from his seat. "Lady!" he cried, "Lady! whom Iserve and whom I have loved from a child, thy brain is sick, and notthy heart. Thou canst not love him. Dost thou not remember that thou artQueen of Khem and Pharaoh's wife? Wilt thou throw thy honour in the mireto be trampled by a wandering stranger?"

"Ay, " she answered, "I am Queen of Khem and Pharaoh's wife, but neverPharaoh's love. Honour! Why dost thou prate to me of honour? Like Nilein flood, my love hath burst the bulwark of my honour, and I mark notwhere custom set it. For all around the waters seethe and foam, and onthem, like a broken lily, floats the wreck of my lost honour. Talk notto me of honour, Rei, teach me rather how I may win my hero to my arms. "

"Thou art mad indeed, " he groaned; "nevertheless--I had forgotten--thismust needs end in words and tears. Meriamun, I bring thee tidings. Hewhom thou desireth is lost to thee for ever--to thee and all the world. "

She heard, then sprang from the couch and stood over him like a lionessover a smitten stag, her fierce and lovely face alive with rage andfear. 

"Is he dead?" she hissed in his ear. "Dead! and I knew it not? Then thouhast murdered him, and thus I avenge his murder. "

With the word she snatched a dagger from her girdle--that same daggerwith which she had once struck at Meneptah her brother, when he wouldhave kissed her--and high it flashed above Rei the Priest. 

"Nay, " she went on, letting the knife fall; "after another fashion shaltthou die--more slowly, Rei, yes, more slowly. Thou knowest the tormentof the palm-tree? By that thou shalt die!" She paused, and stood abovehim with quivering limbs, and breast that heaved, and eyes that flashedlike stars. 

"Stay! stay!" he cried. "It is not I who have slain this Wanderer, ifhe indeed is dead, but his own folly. For he is gone up to look upon theStrange Hathor, and those who look upon the Hathor do battle with theUnseen Swords, and those who do battle with the Unseen Swords must liein the baths of bronze and seek the Under World. "

The face of Meriamun grew white at this word, as the alabaster of thewalls, and she cried aloud with a great cry. Then she sank upon thecouch, pressing her hand to her brow and moaning:

"How may I save him? How may I save him from that accursed witch? Alas!It is too late--but at least I will know his end, ay, and hear of thebeauty of her who slays him. Rei, " she whispered, not in the speech ofKhem, but in the dead tongue of a dead people, "be not wrath with me. Oh, have pity on my weakness. Thou knowest of the Putting-forth of theSpirit--is it not so?"

"I am instructed, " he answered, in the same speech; "'twas I who taughtthee this art, I, and that Ancient Evil which is thine. "

"True--it was thou, Rei. Thou hast ever loved me, so thou swearest, andmany a deed of dread have we dared together. Lend me thy Spirit, Rei, that I may send it forth to the Temple of the False Hathor, and learnwhat passes in the temple, and of the death of him--whom I must love. "

"An ill deed, Meriamun, and a fearful, " he answered, "for there shall mySpirit meet them who watch the gates, and who knows what may chance whenthe bodiless one that yet hath earthly life meets the bodiless ones wholive no more on earth?"

"Yet wilt thou dare it, Rei, for love of me, as being instructed thoualone canst do, " she pleaded. 

"Never have I refused thee aught, Meriamun, nor will I say thee nay. This only I ask of thee--that if my Spirit comes back no more, thou wiltbury me in that tomb which I have made ready by Thebes, and if it maybe, by thy strength of magic wring me from the power of the strangeWardens. I am prepared--thou knowest the spell--say it. "

He sank back in the carven couch, and looked upwards. Then Meriamun drewnear to him, gazed into his eyes and whispered in his ear in that deadtongue she knew. And as she whispered the face of Rei grew like the faceof one dead. She drew back and spoke aloud:

"Art thou loosed, Spirit of Rei?"

Then the lips of Rei answered her, saying: "I am loosed, Meriamun. Whither shall I go?"

"To the court of the Temple of Hathor, that is before the shrine. "

"It is done, Meriamun. "

"What seest thou?"

"I see a man clad in golden armour. He stands with buckler raised beforethe doorway of the shrine, and before him are the ghosts of heroes dead, though he may not see them with the eyes of the flesh. From within theshrine there comes a sound of singing, and he listens to the singing. "

"What does he hear?"

Then the loosed Spirit of Rei the Priest told Meriamun the Queen all thewords of the song that Helen sang. And when she heard and knew that itwas Argive Helen who sat in the halls of Hathor, the heart of the Queengrew faint within her, and her knees trembled. Yet more did she tremblewhen she learned those words that rang like the words she herself hadheard in her vision long ago--telling of bliss that had been, of thehate of the Gods, and of the unending Quest. 

Now the song ended, and the Wanderer went up against the ghosts, andthe Spirit of Rei, speaking with the lips of Rei, told all that befell, while Meriamun hearkened with open ears--ay, and cried aloud with joywhen the Wanderer forced his path through the invisible swords. 

Then once more the sweet voice rang and the loosed Spirit of Rei toldthe words she sang, and to Meriamun they seemed fateful. Then he toldher all the talk that passed between the Wanderer and the ghosts. 

Now the ghosts being gone she bade the Spirit of Rei follow the Wandererup the sanctuary, and from the loosed Spirit she heard how he rent theweb, and of all the words of Helen and of the craft of him who feignedto be Paris. Then the web was torn and the eyes of the Spirit of Reilooked on the beauty of her who was behind it. 

"Tell me of the face of the False Hathor?" said the Queen. 

And the Spirit of Rei answered: "Her face is that beauty which gatheredlike a mask upon the face of dead Hataska, and upon the face of the Bai, and the face of the Ka, when thou spakest with the spirit of her thouhadst slain. "

Now Meriamun groaned aloud, for she knew that doom was on her. Last ofall, she heard the telling of the loves of Odysseus and of Helen, herundying foe, of their kiss, of their betrothal, and of that marriagewhich should be on the morrow night. Meriamun the Queen said never aword, but when all was done and the Wanderer had left the shrine again, she whispered in the ear of Rei the Priest, and drew back his Spirit tohim so that he awoke as a man awakes from sleep. 

He awoke and saw the Queen sitting over against him with a face white asthe face of the dead, and about her deep eyes were lines of black. 

"Hast thou heard, Meriamun?" he asked. 

"I have heard, " she answered. 

"What dreadful thing hast thou heard?" he asked again, for he knewnaught of that which his Spirit had seen. 

"I have heard things that may not be told, " she said, "but this I willtell thee. He of whom we spoke hath passed the ghosts, he hath met withthe False Hathor--that accursed woman--and he returns here all unharmed. Now go, Rei!"

IX

THE WAKING OF THE SLEEPER

Rei departed, wondering and heavy at heart, and Meriamun the Queenpassed into her bed-chamber, and there she bade the eunuchs suffer noneto enter, made fast the doors, and threw herself down upon the bed, hiding her face in its woven cushions. Thus she lay for many hours asone dead--till the darkness of the evening gathered in the chamber. Butthough she moved not, yet in her heart there burned a fire, now whitewith heat as the breath of her passion fanned it, and now waning blackand dull as the tears fell from her eyes. For now she knew all--that thelong foreboding, sometimes dreaded, sometimes desired, and again, likea dream, half forgotten, was indeed being fulfilled. She knew of thedevouring love that must eat her life away, knew that even in the graveshe should find no rest. And her foe was no longer a face beheld ina vision, but a living woman, the fairest and most favoured, Helen ofTroy, Argive Helen, the False Hathor, the torch that fired great cities, the centre of all desire, whose life was the daily doom of men. 

Meriamun was beautiful, but her beauty paled before the face of Helen, as a fire is slain by the sun. Magic she had also, more than any whowere on the earth; but what would her spells avail against the magic ofthose changing eyes? And it was Helen whom the Wanderer came to seek, for _her_ he had travelled the wide lands and sailed the seas. But whenhe told her of one whom he desired, one whom he sought, she had deemedthat she herself was that one, ay, and had told him all. 

At that thought she laughed out, in the madness of her anger and hershame. And he had smiled and spoken of Pharaoh her lord--and the whilehe spoke he had thought not on her but of the Golden Helen. Now thisat least she swore, that if he might not be hers, never should he beHelen's. She would see him dead ere that hour, ay, and herself, and ifit might be, Helen would she see dead also. 

To what counsel should she turn? On the morrow night these two meet; onthe morrow night they would fly together. Then on the morrow must theWanderer be slain. How should he be slain and leave no tale of murder?By poison he might die, and Kurri the Sidonian should be charged to givethe cup. And then she would slay Kurri, saying that he had poisoned theWanderer because of his hate and the loss of his goods and freedom; andyet how could she slay her love? If once she slew him then she, too, must die and seek her joy in the kingdom that Osiris rules, and thereshe might find little gladness. 

What, then, should she do? No answer came into her heart. There was onethat must answer in her soul. 

Now she rose from the bed and stood for awhile staring into the dark. Then she groped her way to a place where there was a carven chest ofolive-wood and ivory, and drawing a key from her girdle she openedthe chest. Within were jewels, mirrors, and unguents in jars ofalabaster--ay, and poisons of deadly bane; but she touched none ofthese. Thrusting her hand deep into the chest, she drew forth a casketof dark metal that the people deemed unholy, a casket made of "Typhon'sBone, " for so they call grey iron. She pressed a secret spring. Itopened, and feeling within she found a smaller casket. Lifting it to herlips she whispered over it words of no living speech, and in the heavyand scented dark a low flame flickered and trembled on her lips, as shemurmured in the tongue of a dead people. Then slowly the lid opened ofitself, like a living mouth that opens, and as it opened, a gleam oflight stole up from the box into the dusk of the chamber. 

Now Meriamun looked, and shuddered as she looked. Yet she put her handinto the box, and muttering "Come forth--come forth, thou Ancient Evil, "drew somewhat to her and held it out from her on the palm of her hand. Behold, it glowed in the dusk of the chamber as a live ember glows amongthe ashes of the hearth. Red it glowed and green, and white, and lividblue, and its shape, as it lay upon her hand, was the shape of a coilingsnake, cut, as it were, in opal and in emerald. 

For awhile she gazed upon it, shuddering, as one in doubt. 

"Minded I am to let thee sleep, thou Horror, " she murmured. "Twice haveI looked on thee, and I would look no more. Nay, I will dare it, thougift of the old wisdom, thou frozen fire, thou sleeping Sin, thou livingDeath of the ancient city, for thou alone hast wisdom. "

Thereon she unclasped the bosom of her robe and laid the gleaming toy, that seemed a snake of stone, upon her ivory breast, though she trembledat its icy touch, for it was more cold than death. With both her handsshe clasped a pillar of the chamber, and so stood, and she was shakenwith throes like the pangs of childbirth. Thus she endured awhile tillthat which was a-cold grew warm, watching its brightness that shonethrough her silken dress as the flame of a lamp shines through analabaster vase. So she stood for an hour, then swiftly put off all herrobes and ornaments of gold, and loosing the dark masses of her hair letit fall round her like a veil. Now she bent her head down to her breast, and breathed on that which lay upon her breast, for the Ancient Evilcan live only in the breath of human kind. Thrice she breathed upon it, thrice she whispered, "_Awake! Awake! Awake!_"

And the first time that she breathed the Thing stirred and sparkled. Thesecond time that she breathed it undid its shining folds and reared itshead to hers. The third time that she breathed it slid from her bosomto the floor, then coiled itself about her feet and slowly grew as growsthe magician's magic tree. 

Greater it grew and greater yet, and as it grew it shone like a torch ina tomb, and wound itself about the body of Meriamun, wrapping her in itsfiery folds till it reached her middle. Then it reared its head on high, and from its eyes there flowed a light like the light of a flame, andlo! its face was the face of a fair woman--it was the face of Meriamun!

Now face looked on face, and eyes glared into eyes. Still as a whitestatue of the Gods stood Meriamun the Queen, and all about her form andin and out of her dark hair twined the flaming snake. 

At length the Evil spoke--spoke with a human voice, with the voice ofMeriamun, but in the dead speech of a dead people:

"Tell me my name, " it said. 

"_Sin_ is thy name, " answered Meriamun the Queen. 

"Tell me whence I come, " it said again. 

"From the evil that is in me, " answered Meriamun. 

"Tell me whither I go. "

"Where I go there thou goest, for I have warmed thee in my breast andthou art twined about my heart. "

Then the Snake lifted up its human head and laughed horribly. 

"Well art thou instructed, " it said. "So I love thee as thou lovest me, "and it bent itself and kissed her on the lips. "I am that Ancient Evil, that Life which endures out of the first death; I am that Death whichabides in the living life. I am that which brought on thee the woe thatis in division from the Heart's Desire, and the name thereof is _Hell_. From Life to Life thou hast found me at thy hand, now in this shape, nowin that. I taught thee the magic which thou knowest; I showed thee howto win the Throne! Now, what wilt thou of me, Meriamun, my Mother, mySister, and my Child? From Life to Life I have been with thee: ever thoumightest have put me from thee, ever thou fliest to the wisdom which Ihave, and ever from thee I draw my strength, for though without me thoumightest live, without thee I must die. Say now, what is it?--tell me, and I will name my price. No more will I ask than must be, for--ah!--Iam glad to wake and live again; glad to grip thy soul within theseshining folds, to be fair with thy beauty!--to be foul with thy sin!"

"Lay thy lips against my ear and thine ear against my lips, " saidMeriamun the Queen, "and I will say what it is that I will of thee, thouAncient Evil. "

So the human-headed Evil laid its ear against the lips of Meriamun, andMeriamun laid her lips against its ear, and they whispered each to each. There in the darkness they whispered, while the witch-light glittereddown the grey snake's shining folds, beamed in its eyes, and shonethrough the Queen's dark hair and on her snowy breast. 

At length the tale was told, and the Snake lifted its woman's head highin the air and again it laughed. 

"He seeks the Good, " it said, "and he shall find the Ill! He looks forLight, and in Darkness shall he wander! To Love he turns, in Lust heshall be lost! He would win the Golden Helen, whom he has sought throughmany a way, whom he has followed o'er many a sea, but first shall hefind thee, Meriamun, and through thee Death! For he shall swear by theSnake who should have sworn by the Star. Far hath he wandered--furthershall he wander yet, for thy sin shall be his sin! Darkness shall wearthe face of Light--Evil shall shine like Good. I will give him to thee, Meriamun, but, hearken to my price. No more must I be laid cold in thegloom while thou walkest in the sunshine--nay, I must be twined aboutthy body. Fear not, fear not, I shall seem but a jewel in the eyes ofmen, a girdle fashioned cunningly for the body of a queen. But with theehenceforth I must ever go--and when thou diest, with thee must I die, and with thee pass where thou dost pass--with thee to sleep, withthee to awake again--and so, on and on, till in the end I win or thouwinnest, or she wins who is our foe!"

"I give thee thy price, " said Meriamun the Queen. 

"So once before thou didst give it, " answered the Evil; "ay, far, faraway, beneath a golden sky and in another clime. Happy wast thou thenwith him thou dost desire, but I twined myself about thy heart and oftwain came three and all the sorrow that has been. So woman thou hastworked, so woman it is ordained. For thou art she in whom all woes aregathered, in whom all love is fulfilled. And I have dragged thy glorydown, woman, and I have loosed thee from thy gentleness, and set it freeupon the earth, and Beauty is she named. By beauty doth _she_ work whois the Golden Helen, and for her beauty's sake, that all men strive towin, are wars and woes, are hopes and prayers, and longings without end. But by Evil dost _thou_ work who art divorced from Innocence, and evilshalt thou ever bring on him whom thou desireth. A riddle! A riddle!Read it who may--read it if thou canst, thou who art named Meriamun theQueen, but who art less than Queen and more. Who art thou? Who is shethey named the Helen? Who is that Wanderer who seeks her from afar, andwho, who am _I_? A riddle! a riddle! that thou mayst not read. Yet isthe answer written on earth and sky and sea, and in the hearts of men. 

"Now hearken! To-morrow night thou shalt take me and twine me about thybody, doing as I bid thee, and behold! for a while thy shape shall wearthe shape of the Golden Helen, and thy face shall be as her face, andthine eyes as her eyes, and thy voice as her voice. Then I leave therest to thee, for as Helen's self thou shalt beguile the Wanderer, andonce, if once only, be a wife to him whom thou desireth. Naught can Itell thee of the future, I who am but a counsellor, but hereafter it maybe that woes will come, woes and wars and death. But what matter thesewhen thou hast had thy desire, when he hath sinned, and hath sworn bythe Snake who should have sworn by the Star, and when he is bound tothee by ties that may not be loosed? Choose, Meriamun, choose! Put mycounsel from thee and to-morrow this man thou lovest shall be lost tothee, lost in the arms of Helen; and alone for many years shalt thoubear the burden of thy lonely love. Take it, and he shall at least bethine, let come what may come. Think on it and choose!"

Thus spake the Ancient Evil, tempting her who was named Meriamun, whileshe hearkened to the tempting. 

"I have chosen, " she said; "I will wear the shape of Helen, and be awife to him I love, and then let ruin fall. Sleep, thou Ancient Evil. Sleep, for no more may I endure thy face of fear that is my face, northe light of those flaming eyes that are my eyes made mad. "

Again the Thing reared its human head and laughed out in triumph. Thenslowly it unloosed its gleaming coils: slowly it slid to the earth andshrank and withered like a flaming scroll, till at length it seemed oncemore but a shining jewel of opal and of amethyst. 

The Wanderer, when he left the inner secret shrine, saw no more theguardian of the gates, nor heard the clash of the swords unseen, forthe Gods had given the beauty of Helen to Odysseus of Ithaca, as it wasforetold. 

Without the curtains the priests of the temple were gatheredwondering--little could they understand how it came to pass that thehero who was called Eperitus had vanished through the curtains and hadnot been smitten down by the unseen swords. And when they saw him comeforth glorious and unharmed they cried aloud with fear. 

But he laughed and said, "Fear not. Victory is to him whom the Godsappoint. I have done battle with the wardens of the shrine, and passedthem, and methinks that they are gone. I have looked upon the Hathoralso, and more than that seek ye not to know. Now give me food, for I amweary. "

So they bowed before him, and leading him thence to their chamber ofbanquets gave him of their best, and watched him while he ate and drankand put from him the desire of food. 

Then he rose and went from the temple, and again the priests bowedbefore him. Moreover, they gave him freedom of the temple, and keyswhereby all the doors might be opened, though little, as they thought, had he any need of keys. 

Now the Wanderer, walking gladly and light of heart, came to his ownlodging in the courts of the Palace. At the door of the lodging stoodRei the Priest, who, when he saw him, ran to him and embraced him, soglad was he that the Wanderer had escaped alive. 

"Little did I think to look upon thee again, Eperitus, " he said. "Hadit not been for that which the Queen----" and he bethought himself andstayed his speech. 

"Nevertheless, here I am unhurt, of ghost or men, " the Wandereranswered, laughing, as he passed into the lodging. "But what of theQueen?"

"Naught, Eperitus, naught, save that she was grieved when she learnedthat thou hadst gone up to the Temple of the Hathor, there, as shethought, to perish. Hearken, thou Eperitus, I know not if thou art Godor man, but oaths are binding both men and Gods, and thou didst swear anoath to Pharaoh--is it not so?"

"Ay, Rei. I swore an oath that I would guard the Queen well till Pharaohcame again. "

"Art thou minded to keep that oath, Eperitus?" asked Rei, looking on himstrangely. "Art thou minded to guard the fair fame of Pharaoh's Queen, that is more precious than her life? Methinks thou dost understand mymeaning, Eperitus?"

"Perchance I understand, " answered the Wanderer. "Know, Rei, that I amso minded. "

Then Rei spake again, darkly. "Methinks some sickness hath smittenMeriamun the Queen, and she craves thee for her physician. Now thingscome about as they were foreshown in the portent of that vision whereofI spoke to thee. But if thou dost break thy oath to him whose salt thoueatest, then, Eperitus, God or man, thou art a dastard. "

"Have I not said that I have no mind so to break mine oath?" heanswered, then sank his head upon his breast and communed with hiscrafty heart while Rei watched him. Presently he lifted up his head andspoke:

"Rei, " he said, "I am minded to tell thee a strange story and a true, for this I see, that our will runs one way, and thou canst help me, and, in helping me, thyself and Pharaoh to whom I swore an oath, and herwhose honour thou holdest dear. But this I warn thee, Rei, that if thoudost betray me, not thine age, not thy office, nor the friendship thouhast shown me, shall save thee. "

"Speak on, Odysseus, Laertes' son, Odysseus of Ithaca, " said Rei; "maymy life be forfeit if I betray thy counsel, if it harm not those Iserve. "

Now the Wanderer started to his feet, crying:

"How knowest thou that name?"

"I know it, " said Rei, "and I tell thee that I know it, thou most craftyof men, to show this, that with me thy guile will not avail thee. " Forhe would not tell him that he had it from the lips of the Queen. 

"Thou hast heard a name that had been in the mouths of many, " said theWanderer; "perchance it is mine, perchance it is the name of another. Itmatters not. Now know this: I fear this Queen of thine. Hither I came toseek a woman, but the Queen I came not to seek. Yet I have not come invain, for yonder, Rei, yonder, in the Temple of the Hathor, I foundher on whose quest I came, and who awaited me there well guarded till Ishould come to take her. On the morrow night I go forth to the temple, and there, by the gates of the temple, I shall find her whom all mendesire, but who loves me alone among men, for so it has been fated ofthe Gods. Thence I bring her hither that here we may be wed. Now thisis my mind: if thou wilt aid me with a ship and men, that at the firstlight of dawn we should flee this land of thine, and that thou shouldestkeep my going secret for awhile till I have gained the sea. True it isthat I swore to guard the Queen till Pharaoh come again; but as thouknowest, things are so that I can best guard her by my flight, and ifPharaoh thinks ill of me--so it must be. Moreover I ask thee to meetme by the pylon of the Temple of Hathor to-morrow at one hour beforemidnight. There will we talk with her who is called the Hathor, andprepare our flight, and thence thou shalt go to that ship which thouhast made ready. "

Now Rei thought for awhile and answered:

"Somewhat I fear to look upon this Goddess, yet I will dare it. Tell me, then, how shall I know her at the temple's gate?"

"Thou shalt know her, Rei, by the red star which burns upon her breast. But fear not, for I will be there. Say, wilt thou make the ship ready?"

"The ship shall be ready, Eperitus, and though I love thee well, I saythis, that I would it rode the waves which roll around the shores ofKhem and thou wert with it, and with thee she who is called the Hathor, that Goddess whom thou desirest. "

X

THE OATH OF THE WANDERER

That night the Wanderer saw not Meriamun, but on the morrow she senta messenger to him, bidding him to her feast that night. He had littleheart to go, but a Queen's courtesy is a command, and he went atsundown. Rei also went to the feast, and as he went, meeting theWanderer in the ante-chamber, he whispered to him that all things weremade ready, that a good ship waited him in the harbour, the very shipthat he had captured from the Sidonians, and that he, Rei, would be withhim by the pylon gate of the temple one hour before midnight. 

Presently, as he whispered, the doors were flung wide and Meriamun theQueen passed in, followed by eunuchs and waiting-women. She was royallyarrayed, her face was pale and cold, but her great eyes glowed in it. Low the Wanderer bowed before her. She bent her head in answer, thengave him her hand, and he led her to the feast. They sat there side byside, but the Queen spoke little, and that little of Pharaoh and thehost of the Apura, from whom no tidings came. 

When at length the feast was done, Meriamun bade the Wanderer to herprivate chamber, and thither he went for awhile, though sorely againsthis will. But Rei came not in with them, and thus he was left alone withthe Queen, for she dismissed the waiting ladies. 

When they had gone there was silence for a space, but ever the Wandererfelt the eyes of Meriamun watching him as though they would read hisheart. 

"I am weary, " she said, at length. "Tell me of the wanderings, Odysseusof Ithaca--nay, tell me of the siege of Ilios and of the sinful Helen, who brought all these woes about. Ay, and tell me how thou didst creepfrom the leaguers of the Achæans, and, wrapped in a beggar's weeds, seekspeech of this evil Helen, now justly slain of the angry Gods. "

"Justly slain is she indeed, " answered the crafty Wanderer. "An illthing is it, truly, that the lives of so many heroes should be lostbecause of the beauty of a faithless woman. I had it in my own heart toslay her when I spoke with her in Troy town, but the Gods held my hand. "

"Was it so, indeed?" said the Queen, smiling darkly. "Doubtless if sheyet lived, and thou sawest her, thou wouldst slay her. Is it not so, Odysseus?"

"She lives no more, O Queen!" he answered. 

"Nay, she lives no more, Odysseus. Now tell me; yesterday thou wentestup to the Temple of the Hathor; tell me what thou didst see in thetemple. "

"I saw a fair woman, or, perchance, an immortal Goddess, stand upon thepylon brow, and as she stood and sang those who looked were bereft ofreason. And thereafter some tried to pass the ghosts who guarded thewoman, and were slain of invisible swords. It was a strange sight tosee. "

"A strange sight, surely. But thou didst not lose thy craft, Odysseus, nor try to break through the ghosts?"

"Nay, Meriamun. In my youth I looked upon the beauty of Argive Helen, who was fairer than she who stood upon the pylon tower. None who havelooked upon the Helen would seek to win the Hathor. "

"But, perchance, those who have looked upon the Hathor may seek to winthe Helen, " she answered slowly, and he knew not what to say, for hefelt the power of her magic on him. 

So for awhile they spoke, and Meriamun, knowing all, wondered much atthe guile of the Wanderer, but she showed no wonder in her face. Atlength he rose and, bowing before her, said that he must visit the guardthat watched the Palace gates. She looked upon him strangely and badehim go. Then he went, and right glad he was thus to be free of her. 

But when the curtains had swung behind him, Meriamun the Queen sprang toher feet, and a dreadful light of daring burned in her eyes. She clappedher hands, and bade those who came to her seek their rest, as she wouldalso, for she was weary and needed none to wait upon her. So the womenwent, leaving her alone, and she passed into her sleeping chamber. 

"Now must the bride deck herself for the bridal, " she said, andstraightway, pausing not, drew forth the Ancient Evil from itshiding-place and warmed it on her breast, breathing the breath of lifeinto its nostrils. Now, as before, it grew and wound itself about her, and whispered in her ear, bidding her clothe herself in bridal whiteand clasp the Evil around her; then think upon the beauty she had seengather on the face of dead Hataska in the Temple of Osiris, and on theface of the Bai, and the face of the Ka. She did its command, fearingnothing, for her heart was alight with love, and torn with jealous hate, and little did she reck of the sorrows which her sin should bring forth. So she bathed herself in perfumes, shook out her shining hair, and cladherself in white attire. Then she looked upon her beauty in the mirrorof silver, and cried in the bitterness of her heart to the Evil that laybeside her like a snake asleep. 

"Ah, am I not fair enow to win him whom I love? Say, thou Evil, must Iindeed steal the beauty of another to win him whom I love?"

"This must thou do, " said the Evil, "or lose him in Helen's arms. Forthough thou art fair, yet is she Beauty's self, and her gentlenesshe loves, and not thy pride. Choose, choose swiftly for presently theWanderer goes forth to win the Golden Helen. "

Then she doubted no more, but lifting the shining Evil, held it to her. With a dreadful laugh it twined itself about her, and lo! it shrank tothe shape of a girdling, double-headed snake of gold, with eyes of rubyflame. And as it shrank Meriamun the Queen thought on the beauty she hadseen upon the face of the dead Hataska, on the face of the Bai, and theface of the Ka, and all the while she watched her beauty in the mirror. And as she watched, behold, her face grew as the face of death, ashenand hollow, then slowly burned into life again--but all her lovelinesswas changed. Changed were her dark locks to locks of gold, changed wereher deep eyes to eyes of blue, changed was the glory of her pride to thesweetness of the Helen's smile. Fairest among women had been her form, now it was fairer yet, and now--now she was Beauty's self, and like toswoon at the dream of her own loveliness. 

"So, ah, so must the Hathor seem, " she said, and lo! her voice rangstrangely in her ears. For the voice, too, was changed, it was more softthan the whispering of wind-stirred reeds; it was more sweet than themurmuring of bees at noon. 

Now she must go forth, and fearful at her own loveliness and heavy withher sin, yet glad with a strange joy, she passes from her chamber andglides like a starbeam through the still halls of her Palace. The whitelight of the moon creeps into them and falls upon the faces of thedreadful Gods, on the awful smile of sphinxes, and the pictures of herforefathers, kings and queens who long were dead. And as she goes sheseems to hear them whisper each to each of the dreadful sin that shehas sinned, and of the sorrow that shall be. But she does not heed, andnever stays her foot. For her heart is alight as with a flame, and shewill win the Wanderer to her arms--the Wanderer sought through manylives, found after many deaths. 

Now the Wanderer is in his chamber, waiting for the hour to set forthto find the Golden Helen. His heart is alight, and strange dreams ofthe past go before his eyes, and strange visions of long love to be. Hisheart burns like a lamp in the blackness, and by that light he sees allthe days of his life that have been, and all the wars that he has won, and all the seas that he has sailed. And now he knows that these thingsare dreams indeed, illusions of the sense, for there is but one thingtrue in the life of men, and that is Love; there is but one thingperfect, the beauty which is Love's robe; there is but one thing whichall men seek and are born to find at last, the heart of the GoldenHelen, the World's Desire, that is peace and joy and rest. 

He binds his armour on him, for foes may lurk in darkness, and takes theBow of Eurytus, and the grey bolts of death; for perchance the fight isnot yet done, he must cleave his way to joy. Then he combs his locks andsets the golden helm upon them, and, praying to the Gods who hear not, he passes from his chamber. 

Now the chamber opened into a great hall of pillars. As was his customwhen he went alone by night, the Wanderer glanced warily down the duskyhall, but he might see little because of the shadows. Nevertheless, themoonlight poured into the centre of the hall from the clerestories inthe roof, and lay there shining white as water beneath black banks ofreeds. Again the Wanderer glanced with keen, quick eyes, for there was asense in his heart that he was no more alone in the hall, though whetherit were man or ghost, or, perchance, one of the immortal Gods who lookedon him, he might not tell. Now it seemed to him that he saw a shape ofwhite moving far away in the shadow. Then he grasped the black bow andlaid hand upon his quiver so that the shafts rattled. 

Now it would seem that the shape in the shadow heard the rattling of theshafts, or perchance saw the moonlight gleam upon the Wanderer's goldenharness--at the least, it drew near till it came to the edge of thepool of light. There it paused as a bather pauses ere she steps into thefountain. The Wanderer paused also, wondering what the shape might be. Half was he minded to try it with an arrow from the bow, but he held hishand and watched. 

And as he watched, the white shape glided into the space of moonlight, and he saw that it was the form of a woman draped in white, and thatabout her shone a gleaming girdle, and in the girdle gems which sparkledlike the eyes of a snake. Tall was the shape and lovely as a statue ofAphrodite; but who or what it was he might not tell, for the head wasbent and the face hidden. 

Awhile the shape stood thus, and as it stood, the Wanderer passedtowards it, marvelling much, till he also stood in the pool of moonlightthat shimmered on his golden mail. Then suddenly the shape lifted itsface so that the light fell full on it, and stretched out its armstowards him, and lo! the face was the face of the Argive Helen--of herwhom he went forth to seek. He looked upon its beauty, he looked uponthe eyes of blue, upon the golden hair, upon the shining arms; thenslowly, very slowly, and in silence--for he could find no words--theWanderer drew near. 

She did not move nor speak. So still she stood that scarce she seemed tobreathe. Only the shining eyes of her snake-girdle glittered like livingthings. Again he stopped fearfully, for he held that this was surely amocking ghost which stood before him, but still she neither moved norspoke. 

Then at length he found his tongue and spoke:

"Lady, " he whispered, "is it indeed thou, is it Argive Helen whom I lookupon, or is it, perchance, a ghost sent by Queen Persephone from theHouse of Hades to make a mock of me?"

Now the voice of Helen answered him in sweet tones and low:

"Did I not tell thee, Odysseus of Ithaca, did I not tell thee, yesterdayin the halls of Hathor, after thou hadst overcome the ghosts, thatto-night we should be wed? Wherefore, then, dost thou deem me of thenumber of the bodiless?"

The Wanderer hearkened. The voice was the voice of Helen, the eyes werethe eyes of Helen, and yet his heart feared guile. 

"So did Argive Helen tell me of a truth, Lady, but this she said, that Ishould find her by the pylon of the temple, and lead her thence to bemy bride. Thither I go but now to seek her. But if thou art Helen, howcomest thou to these Palace halls? And where, Lady, is that Red Starwhich should gleam upon thy breast, that Star which weeps out the bloodof men?"

"No more doth the red dew fall from the Star that was set upon mybreast, Odysseus, for now that thou hast won me men die no more for mybeauty's sake. Gone is the Star of War; and see, Wisdom rings me round, the symbol of the Deathless Snake that signifies love eternal. Thou dostask how I came hither, I, who am immortal and a daughter of the Gods?Seek not to know, Odysseus, for where Fate puts it in my mind to be, there do the Gods bear me. Wouldst thou, then, that I leave thee, Odysseus?"

"Last of all things do I desire this, " he answered, for now his wisdomwent a-wandering; now he forgot the words of Aphrodite, warning him thatthe Helen might be known by one thing only, the Red Star on her breast, whence falls the blood of men; and he no more doubted but that she wasthe Golden Helen. 

Then she who wore the Helen's shape stretched out her arms and smiled sosweetly that the Wanderer knew nothing any more, save that she drew himto her. 

Slowly she glided before him, ever smiling, and where she went hefollowed, as men follow beauty in a dream. She led him through hallsand corridors, past the sculptured statues of the Gods, past man-headedsphinxes, and pictures of long-dead kings. 

And as she goes, once more it seems to her that she hears them whispereach to each the horror of her sin and the sorrow that shall be. Butnaught she heeds who ever leads him on, and naught he hears who everfollows after, till at length, though he knows it not, they stand in thebed-chamber of the Queen, and by Pharaoh's golden bed. 

Then once more she speaks:

"Odysseus of Ithaca, whom I have loved from the beginning, and whom Ishall love till all deaths are done, before thee stands that Lovelinesswhich the Gods predestined to thy arms. Now take thou thy Bride; butfirst lay thy hand upon this golden Snake, that rings me round, the newbridal gift of the Gods, and swear thy marriage oath, which may not bebroken. Swear thus, Odysseus: 'I love thee, Woman or Immortal, and theealone, and by whatever name thou art called, and in whatever shape thougoest, to thee I will cleave, and to thee alone, till the day of thepassing of Time. I will forgive thy sins, I will soothe thy sorrows, I will suffer none to come betwixt thee and me. This I swear to thee, Woman or Immortal, who dost stand before me. I swear it to thee, Woman, for now and for ever, for here and hereafter, in whatever shape thougoest on the earth, by whatever name thou art known among men. '

"Swear thou thus, Odysseus of Ithaca, Laertes' son, or leave me and gothy ways!"

"Great is the oath, " quoth the Wanderer; for though now he feared noguile, yet his crafty heart liked it ill. 

"Choose, and choose swiftly, " she answered. "Swear the oath, or leave meand never see me more!"

"Leave thee I will not, and cannot if I would, " he said. "Lady, Iswear!" And he laid his hand upon the Snake that ringed her round, andswore the dreadful oath. Yea, he forgot the words of the Goddess, andthe words of Helen, and he swore by the Snake who should have sworn bythe Star. By the immortal Gods he swore it, by the Symbol of the Snake, and by the Beauty of his Bride. And as he swore the eyes of the Serpentsparkled, and the eyes of her who wore the beauty of Helen shone, andfaintly the black bow of Eurytus thrilled, forboding Death and War. 

But little the Wanderer thought on guile or War or Death, for the kissof her whom he deemed the Golden Helen was on his lips, and he went upinto the golden bed of Meriamun. 

XI

THE WAKING OF THE WANDERER

Now Rei the Priest, as had been appointed, went to the pylon gate of theTemple of Hathor. Awhile he stood looking for the Wanderer, but thoughthe hour had come, the Wanderer came not. Then the Priest went to thepylon and stood in the shadow of the gate. As he stood there a wicketin the gate opened, and there passed out a veiled figure of a woman uponwhose breast burned a red jewel that shone in the night like a star. The woman waited awhile, looking down the moonlit road between the blackrows of sphinxes, but the road lay white and empty, and she turned andhid herself in the shadow of the pylon, where Rei could see nothing ofher except the red star that gleamed upon her breast. 

Now a great fear came upon the old man, for he knew that he looked uponthe strange and deadly Hathor. Perchance he too would perish like therest who had looked on her to their ruin. He thought of flight, but hedid not dare to fly. Then he too stared down the road seeking for theWanderer, but no shadow crossed the moonlight. Thus things went forawhile, and still the Hathor stood silently in the shadow, and still theblood-red star shone upon her breast. And so it came to pass that theWorld's Desire must wait at the tryst like some forsaken village maid. 

While Rei the Priest crouched thus against the pylon wall, praying forthe coming of him who came not, suddenly a voice spoke to him in tonessweeter than a lute. 

"Who art thou that hidest in the shadow?" said the voice. 

He knew that it was the Hathor who spoke, and so afraid was he that hecould not answer. 

Then the voice spoke again:

"Oh, thou most crafty of men, why doth it please thee to come hither toseek me in the guise of an aged priest. Once, Odysseus, I saw thee inbeggar's weeds, and knew thee in the midst of thy foes. Shall I not knowthee again in peace beneath thy folded garb and thy robes of white?"

Rei heard and knew that he could hide himself no longer. Therefore hecame forward trembling, and knelt before her, saying:

"Oh, mighty Queen, I am not that man whom thou didst name, nor am I hidin any wrappings of disguise. Nay, I do avow myself to be named Rei theChief Architect of Pharaoh, the Commander of the Legion of Amen, thechief of the Treasury of Amen, and a man of repute in this land of Khem. Now, if indeed thou art the Goddess of this temple, as I judge by thatred jewel which burns upon thy breast, I pray thee be merciful to thyservant and smite me not in thy wrath, for not by my own will am I here, but by the command of that hero whom thou hast named, and for whosecoming I await. Be merciful therefore, and hold thy hand. "

"Fear not thou, Rei, " said the sweet voice. "Little am I minded toharm thee, or any man, for though many men have gone down the path ofdarkness because of me, who am a doom to men, not by my will has itbeen, but by the will of the immortal Gods, who use me to their ends. Rise thou, Rei, and tell me why thou art come hither, and where is hewhom I have named?"

Then Rei rose, and looking up saw the light of the Helen's eyes shiningon him through her veil. But there was no anger in them, they shonemildly as stars in an evening sky, and his heart was comforted. 

"I know not where the Wanderer is, O thou Immortal, " he said. "This Iknow only, that he bade me meet him here at one hour before midnight, and so I came. "

"Perchance he too will come anon, " said the sweet voice; "but why didhe, whom thou namest the Wanderer, bid thee meet him here?"

"For this reason, O Hathor. He told me that this night he should be wedto thee, and was minded thereafter to fly from Khem with thee. Thereforehe bade me come, who am a friend to him, to talk with thee and him as tohow thy flight should go, and yet he comes not. "

Now as Rei spake, he turned his face upward, and the Golden Helen lookedupon it. 

"Hearken, Rei, " she said; "but yesterday, after I had stood upon thepylon tower as the Gods decreed, and sang to those who were ripe to die, I went to my shrine and wove my web while the doomed men fell beneaththe swords of them who were set to guard my beauty, but who now aregone. And as I wove, one passed the Ghosts and rent the web and stoodbefore me. It was he whom I await to-night, and after awhile I knew himfor Odysseus of Ithaca, Laertes' son. But as I looked on him and spakewith him, behold, I saw a spirit watching us, though he might not seeit, a spirit whose face I knew not, for no such man have I known in mylife days. Know then, Rei, that the face of the spirit was _thy_ face, and its robes _thy_ robes. "

Then once more Rei trembled in his fear. 

"Now, Rei, I bid thee tell me, and speak the truth, lest evil come onthee, not at my hands indeed, for I would harm none, but at the handsof those Immortals who are akin to me. What did thy spirit yonder, in mysacred shrine? How didst thou dare to enter and look upon my beauty andhearken to my words?"

"Oh, great Queen, " said Rei, "I will tell thee the truth, and I praythee let not the wrath of the Gods fall upon me. Not of my own will didmy spirit enter into thy Holy Place, nor do I know aught of what it sawtherein, seeing that no memory of it remains in me. Nay, it was sent ofher whom I serve, who is the mistress of all magic, and to her it madereport, but what it said I know not. "

"And whom dost thou serve, Rei? And why did she send thy spirit forth tospy on me?"

"I serve Meriamun the Queen, and she sent my spirit forth to learn whatbefell the Wanderer when he went up against the Ghosts. "

"And yet he said naught to me of this Meriamun. Say, Rei, is she fair?"

"Of all women who live upon the earth she is the very fairest. "

"Of _all_, sayest thou, Rei? Look now, and say if Meriamun, whomthou dost serve, is fairer than Argive Helen, whom thou dost namethe Hathor?" and she lifted her veil so that he saw the face that wasbeneath. 

Now when he heard that name, and looked upon the glory of her who isBeauty's self, Rei shrank back till he went nigh to falling on theearth. 

"Nay, " he said, covering his eyes with his hand; "nay thou art fairerthan she. "

"Then tell me, " she said, letting fall her veil again, "and for thineown sake tell me true, why would Meriamun the Queen, whom thou servest, know the fate of him who came up against the Ghosts?"

"Wouldst thou know, Daughter of Amen?" answered Rei; "then I will tellthee, for through thee alone she whom I serve and love can be saved fromshame. Meriamun doth also love the man whom thou wouldst wed. "

Now when the Golden Helen heard these words, she pressed her handagainst her bosom. 

"So I feared, " she said, "even so. She loves him, and he comes not. Ah!if it be so! Now, Rei, I am tempted to pay this Queen of thine in herown craft, and send thy spirit forth to spy on her. Nay, that I will notdo, for never shall Helen work by shameful guile or magic. Nay--but wewill hence, Rei, we will go to the Palace where my rival dwells, thereto learn the truth. Fear not, I will bring no ill on thee, nor on herwhom thou servest. Lead me to the Palace, Rei. Lead me swiftly. "

Now the Wanderer slept in the arms of Meriamun, who wore the shape ofArgive Helen. His golden harness was piled by the golden bed, and bythe bed stood the black bow of Eurytus. The night drew on towards thedawning, when of a sudden the Bow awoke and sang, and thus it sang:

 "Wake! wake! though the arms of thy Love are about thee, yet dearer by far Than her kiss is the sound of the fight; And more sweet than her voice is the cry of the trumpet, and goodlier far Than her arms is the battle's delight: And what eyes are so bright as the sheen of the bronze when the sword is aloft, What breast is so fair as the shield? Or what garland of roses is dear as the helm, and what sleep is so soft As the sleep of slain men on the field?"

Lo! the Snake that was twined about the form of her who wore the shapeof Helen heard the magic song. It awoke, it arose. It twisted itselfabout the body of the Wanderer and the body of her who wore the shape ofHelen, knitting them together in the bond of sin. It grew, and liftingits woman's head on high, it sang in answer. And thus it sang of doom:

 "Sleep! be at rest for an hour; as in death men believe they shall rest, But they wake! And thou too shalt awake! In the dark of the grave do they stir; but about them, on arms and on breast, Are the toils and the coils of the Snake: By the tree where the first lovers lay, did I watch as I watch where he lies, Love laid on the bosom of Lust!"

 Then the great bow answered the Snake, and it sang:

 "Of the tree where the first lovers sinned was I shapen; I bid thee arise, Thou Slayer that soon shall be dust. "

 And the Snake sang reply:

 "Be thou silent, my Daughter of Death, be thou silent nor wake him from sleep, With the song and the sound of thy breath. "

 The Bow heard the song of the Snake. The Death heard the song of the Sin, and again its thin music thrilled upon the air. For thus it sang:

 "Be thou silent, my Mother of Sin, for this watch it is given me to keep O'er the sleep of the dealer of Death!"

Then the Snake sang:

 "Hush, hush, thou art young, and thou camest to birth when the making was done Of the world: I am older therein!"

 And the Bow answered:

 "But without me thy strength were as weakness, the prize of thy strength were unwon. I am _Death_, and thy Daughter, O Sin!"

Now the song of the Snake and the song of the Bow sunk through thedepths of sleep till they reached the Wanderer's ears. He sighed, hestretched out his mighty arms, he opened his eyes, and lo! they lookedupon the eyes that bent above him, eyes of flame that lit the face ofa woman--the face of Meriamun that wavered on a serpent's neck andsuddenly was gone. He cried aloud with fear, and sprang from the couch. The faint light of the dawning crept through the casements and fellupon the bed. The faint light of the dawning fell upon the golden bed ofPharaoh's Queen, it gleamed upon the golden armour that was piled by thebed, and on the polished surface of the great black bow. It shone uponthe face of her who lay in the bed. 

Then he remembered. Surely he had slept with the Golden Helen, who washis bride, and surely he had dreamed an evil dream, a dream of a snakethat wore the face of Pharaoh's Queen. Yea, there lay the Golden Helen, won at last--the Golden Helen now made a wife to him. Now he mocked hisown fears, and now he bent to wake her with a kiss. Faintly the new-bornlight crept and gathered on her face; ah! how beautiful she was insleep. Nay, what was this? Whose face was this beneath his own? Not sohad Helen looked in the shrine of her temple, when he tore the web. Notso had Helen seemed yonder in the pillared hall when she stood in themoonlit space--not so had she seemed when he sware the great oath tolove her, and her alone. Whose beauty was it then that now he saw? Bythe Immortal Gods, it was the beauty of Meriamun; it was the glory ofthe Pharaoh's Queen!

He stared upon her lovely sleeping face, while terror shook his soul. How could this be? What then had he done?

Then light broke upon him. He looked around the chamber--there on thewalls were the graven images of the Gods of Khem, there above the bedthe names of Meneptah and Meriamun were written side by side in thesacred signs of Khem. Not with the Golden Helen had he slept, but withthe wife of Pharaoh! To her he had sworn the oath, and she had worn theHelen's shape--and now the spell was broken. 

He stood amazed, and as he stood, again the great bow thrilled, warninghim of Death to come. Then his strength came back to him, and he seizedhis armour and girt it about him piece by piece till he lifted thegolden helm. It slipped from his hand; with a crash it fell upon themarble floor. With a crash it fell, and she who slept in the bed awokewith a cry, and sprang from the bed, her dark hair streaming down, hernight-gear held to her by the golden snake with gemmy eyes that she mustever wear. But he caught his sword in his hand, and threw down the ivorysheath. 

BOOK III

I

THE VENGEANCE OF KURRI

The Wanderer and Pharaoh's Queen stood face to face in the twilight ofthe chamber. They stood in silence, while bitter anger and burning shamepoured into his heart and shone from his eyes. But the face of Meriamunwas cold as the dead, and on it was a smile such as the carven sphinxeswear. Only her breast heaved tumultuously as though in triumph, and herlimbs quivered like a shaken reed. At length she spoke. 

"Why lookest thou so strangely on me, my Lord and Love; and why hastthou girded thy harness on thy back? Scarcely doth glorious Ra creepfrom the breast of Nout, and wouldest thou leave thy bridal bed, Odysseus?"

Still he spoke no word, but looked on her with burning eyes. Then shestretched out her arms and came towards him lover-like. And now he foundhis tongue again. 

"Get thee from me!" he said, in a voice low and terrible to hear; "getthee from me. Dare not to touch me, thou, who art a harlot and a witch, lest I forget my manhood and strike thee dead before me. "

"That thou canst not do, Odysseus, " she answered soft, "for whateverelse I be I am thy wife, and thou art bound to me for ever. What was theoath which thou didst swear not five short hours ago?"

"I swore an oath indeed, but not to thee, Meriamun. I swore an oath toArgive Helen, whom I love, and I wake to find thee sleeping at my side, thee whom I hate. "

"Nay, " she said, "to me thou didst swear the oath, Odysseus, for thou, of men the most guileful, hast at length been over-mastered in guile. To me, 'Woman or Immortal, ' thou didst swear 'for now and for ever, for here and hereafter, _in whatever shape thou goest on the earth, bywhatever name thou art known among men_. ' Oh, be not wroth, my lord, buthearken. What matters the shape in which thou seest me? At the least amI not fair? And what is beauty but a casket that hides the gem within?'Tis my love which thou hast won, my love that is immortal, and not theflesh that perishes. For I have loved thee, ay, and thou hast loved mefrom of old and in other lives than this, and I tell thee that we shalllove again and yet again when thou art no more Odysseus of Ithaca, andwhen I am no more Meriamun, a Queen of Khem, but while we walk in otherforms upon the world and are named by other names. I am thy doom, thouWanderer, and wherever thou dost wander through the fields of Life andDeath I shall be at thy side. For I am She of whom thou art, and thouart He of whom I am, and though the Gods have severed us, yet must wefloat together down the river of our lives till we find that sea ofwhich the Spirit knows. Therefore put me not from thee and raise not mywrath against thee, for if I used my magic to bring thee to my arms, yetthey are thy home. " And once more she came towards him. 

Now the Wanderer drew an arrow from his quiver, and set the notchagainst his breast and the keen barb towards the breast of Meriamun. 

"Draw on, " he said. "Thus will I take thee to my arms again. Hearken, Meriamun the witch--Meriamun the harlot: Pharaoh's wife and Queen ofKhem. To thee I swore an oath indeed, and perchance because I sufferedthy guile to overcome my wisdom, because I swore upon That which circlesthee about, and not by the Red Star which gleams upon the Helen'sbreast, it may be that I shall lose her whom I love. So indeed the Queenof Heaven told me, yonder in sea-girt Ithaca, though to my sorrow Iforgot her words. But if I lose her or if I win, know this, that I loveher and her only, and I hate thee like the gates of hell. For thou hasttricked me with thy magic, thou hast stolen the shape of Beauty's selfand dared to wear it, thou hast drawn a dreadful oath from me, and Ihave taken thee to wife. And more, thou art the Queen of Khem, thou artPharaoh's wife, whom I swore to guard; but thou hast brought the lastshame upon me, for now I am a man dishonoured, and I have sinned againstthe hospitable hearth, and the God of guests and hosts. And thereforeI will do this. I will call together the guard of which I am chief, andtell them all thy shame, ay, and all my sorrow. I will shout it in thestreets, I will publish it from the temple tops, and when Pharaoh comesagain I will call it into his ear, till he and all who live in Khem knowthee for what thou art, and see thee in thy naked shame. "

She hearkened, and her face grew terrible to see. A moment she stood asthough in thought, one hand pressed to her brow and one upon her breast. Then she spoke. 

"Is that thy last word, Wanderer?"

"It is my last word, Queen, " he answered, and turned to go. 

Then with the hand that rested on her breast she rent her night robesand tore her perfumed hair. Past him she rushed towards the door, and asshe ran sent scream on scream echoing up the painted walls. 

The curtains shook, the doors were burst asunder, and through thempoured guards, eunuchs, and waiting-women. 

"Help, " she cried, pointing to the Wanderer. "Help, help! oh, save minehonour from this evil man, this foreign thief whom Pharaoh set to guardme, and who guards me thus. This coward who dares to creep upon me--theQueen of Khem--even as I slept in Pharaoh's bed!" and she cast herselfupon the floor and threw her hair about her, and lay there groaning andweeping as though in the last agony of shame. 

Now when the guards saw how the thing was, a great cry of rage and shamewent up from them, and they rushed upon the Wanderer like wolves upon astag at bay. But he leapt backwards to the side of the bed, and even ashe leapt he set the arrow in his hand upon the string of the great blackbow. Then he drew it to his ear. The bow-string sang, the arrow rushedforth, and he who stood before it got his death. Again the bow-stringsang, again the arrow rushed, and lo! another man was sped. A third timehe drew the bow and the soul of a third went down the ways of hell. Nowthey rolled back from him as the waters roll from a rock, for none daresface the shafts of death. They shot at him with spears and arrows frombehind the shelter of the pillars, but none of these might harm him, forsome fell from his mail and some he caught upon his buckler. 

Now among those who had run thither at the sound of the cries ofMeriamun was that same Kurri, the miserable captain of the Sidonians, whose life the Wanderer had spared, and whom he had given to the Queento be her jeweller. And when Kurri saw the Wanderer's plight, he thoughtin his greedy heart of those treasures that he had lost, and of how hewho had been a captain and a rich merchant of Sidon was now nothing buta slave. 

Then a great desire came upon him to work the Wanderer ill, if so hemight. Now all round the edge of the chamber were shadows, for the lightwas yet faint, and Kurri crept into the shadows, carrying a long spearin his hand, and that spear was hafted into the bronze point which hadstood in the Wanderer's helm. Little did the Wanderer glance his way, for he watched the lances and arrows that flew towards him from theportal, so the end of it was that the Sidonian passed round the chamberunseen and climbed into the golden bed of Pharaoh on the further side ofthe bed. Now the Wanderer stood with his back to the bed and a spear'slength from it, and in the silken hangings were fixed spears and arrows. Kurri's first thought was to stab him in the back, but this he didnot; first, because he feared lest he should fail to pierce the goldenharness and the Wanderer should turn and slay him; and again becausehe hoped that the Wanderer would be put to death by torment, and he wasfain to have a hand in it, for after the fashion of the Sidonians he wasskilled in the tormenting of men. Therefore he waited till presentlythe Wanderer let fall his buckler and drew the bow. But ere the arrowreached his ear Kurri had stretched out his spear from between thehangings and touched the string with the keen bronze, so that it burstasunder and the grey shaft fell upon the marble floor. Then, as theWanderer cast down the bow and turned with a cry to spring on him whohad cut the cord, for his eye had caught the sheen of the outstretchedspear, Kurri lifted the covering of the purple web which lay upon thebed and deftly cast it over the hero's head so that he was inmeshed. Thereon the soldiers and the eunuchs took heart, seeing what had beendone, and ere ever the Wanderer could clear himself from the coveringand draw his sword, they rushed upon him. Cumbered as he was, they mightnot easily overcome him, but in the end they bore him down and heldhim fast, so that he could not stir so much as a finger. Then one criedaloud to Meriamun:

"The Lion is trapped, O Queen! Say, shall we slay him?"

But Meriamun, who had watched the fray through cover of her hands, shuddered and made answer:

"Nay, but lock his tongue with a gag, strip his armour from him, andbind him with fetters of bronze, and make him fast to the dungeon wallswith great chains of bronze. There shall he bide till Pharaoh comeagain; for against Pharaoh's honour he hath sinned and shamefully brokenthat oath he swore to him, and therefore shall Pharaoh make him die insuch fashion as seems good to him. "

Now when Kurri heard these words, and saw the Wanderer's sorry plight, he bent over him and said:

"It was I, Kurri the Sidonian, who cut the cord of thy great bow, Eperitus; with the spear-point that thou gavest back to me I cut it, I, whose folk thou didst slay and madest me a slave. And I will crave thisboon of Pharaoh, that mine shall be the hand to torment thee night andday till at last thou diest, cursing the day that thou wast born. "

The Wanderer looked upon him and answered: "There thou liest, thouSidonian dog, for this is written in thy face, that thou thyself shaltdie within an hour and that strangely. "

Then Kurri shrank back scowling. But no more words might Odysseus speak, for at once they forced his jaws apart and gagged him with a gag ofiron; and thereafter, stripping his harness from him, they bound himwith fetters as the Queen had commanded. 

Now while they dealt thus with the Wanderer, Meriamun passed intoanother chamber and swiftly threw robes upon her to hide her disarray, clasping them round her with the golden girdle which now she must alwayswear. But her long hair she left unbound, nor did she wash the stain oftears from her face, for she was minded to seem shamed and woe-begone inthe eyes of all men till Pharaoh came again. 

Rei and the Golden Helen passed through the streets of the city tillthey came to the Palace gates. And here they must wait till the dawn, for Rei, thinking to come thither with the Wanderer, who was Captain ofthe Guard, had not learned the word of entry. 

"Easy would it be for me to win my way through those great gates, " saidthe Helen to Rei at her side, "but it is my counsel that we wait awhile. Perchance he whom we seek will come forth. "

So they entered the porch of the Temple of Osiris that looked towardsthe gates, and there they waited till the dawn gathered in the easternsky. The Helen spoke no word, but Rei, watching her, knew that she wastroubled at heart, though he might not see her face because of the veilshe wore; for from time to time she sighed and the Red Star rose andfell upon her breast. 

At length the first arrow of the dawn fell upon the temple porch and shespoke. 

"Now let us enter, " she said; "my heart forebodes evil indeed; but muchof evil I have known, and where the Gods drive me there I must go. "

They came to the gates, and the man who watched them opened to thepriest Rei and the veiled woman who went with him, though he marvelledat the beauty of the woman's shape. 

"Where are thy fellow-guards?" Rei asked of the soldier. 

"I know not, " he answered, "but anon a great tumult rose in the Palace, and the Captain of the Gate went thither, leaving me only to guard thegate. "

"Hast thou seen the Lord Eperitus?" Rei asked again. 

"Nay, I have not seen him since supper-time last night, nor has hevisited the guard as is his wont. "

Rei passed on wondering, and with him went Helen. As they trod thePalace they saw folk flying towards the hall of banquets that is nearthe Queen's chambers. Some bore arms in their hands and some bore none, but all fled east towards the hall of banquets, whence came a sound ofshouting. Now they drew near the hall, and there at the further end, where the doors are that lead to the Queen's chambers, a great crowd wasgathered. 

"Hide thee, lady--hide thee, " said Rei to her who went with him, "formethinks that death is afoot here. See, here hangs a curtain, stand thoubehind it while I learn what this tumult means. "

She stepped behind the curtain that hung between the pillars as Rei badeher, for now Helen's gentle breast was full of fears, and she was as onedazed. Even as she stepped one came flying down the hall who was of theservants of Rei the Priest. 

"Stay thou, " Rei cried to him, "and tell me what happens yonder. "

"Ill deeds, Lord, " said the servant. "Eperitus the Wanderer, whomPharaoh made Captain of his Guard when he went forth to slay the rebelApura--Eperitus hath laid hands on the Queen whom he was set to guard. But she fled from him, and her cries awoke the guard, and they fell uponhim in Pharaoh's very chamber. Some he slew with shafts from the greatblack bow, but Kurri the Sidonian cut the string of the bow, and theWanderer was borne down by many men. Now they have bound him and draghim to the dungeons, there to await judgment from the lips of Pharaoh. See, they bring him. I must begone on my errand to the keeper of thedungeons. "

The Golden Helen heard the shameful tale, and such sorrow took her thathad she been mortal she had surely died. This then was the man whom shehad chosen to love, this was he whom last night she should have wed. Once more the Gods had made a mock of her. So had it ever been, soshould it ever be. Loveless she had lived all her life days, now shehad learned to love once and for ever--and this was the fruit of it!She clasped the curtain lest she should sink to the earth, and hearinga sound looked forth. A multitude of men came down the hall. Before themwalked ten soldiers bearing a litter on their shoulders. In the litterlay a man gagged and fettered with fetters of bronze so that he mightnot stir, and they bore him as men bear a stag from the chase or a wildbull to the sacrifice. It was the Wanderer's self, the Wanderer overcomeat last, and he seemed so mighty even in his bonds, and his eyes shonewith so fierce a light, that the crowd shrank from him as though infear. Thus did Helen see her Love and Lord again as they bore himdishonoured to his dungeon cell. She saw, and a moan and a cry burstfrom her heart. A moan for her own woe and a cry for the shame andfaithlessness of him whom she must love. 

"Oh, how fallen art thou, Odysseus, who wast of men the very first, " shecried. 

He heard it and knew the voice of her who cried, and he gazed around. The great veins swelled upon his neck and forehead, and he struggled sofiercely that he fell from the litter to the ground. But he might notrise because of the fetters, nor speak because of the gag, so theylifted him again and bore him thence. 

And after him went all the multitude save Rei alone. For Rei was fallenin shame and grief because of the tale that he had heard and of the deedof darkness that the man he loved had done. For not yet did he rememberand learn to doubt. So he stood hiding his eyes in his hand, and as hestood Helen came forth and touched him on the shoulder, saying:

"Lead me hence, old man. Lead me back to my temple. My Love is lostindeed, but there where I found it I will abide till the Gods make theirwill clear to me. "

He bowed, saying no word, and following Helen stepped into the centre ofthe hall. There he stopped, indeed, for down it came the Queen, her hairstreaming, all her robes disordered, and her face stained with tears. She was alone save for Kurri the Sidonian, who followed her, and shewalked wildly as one distraught who knows not where she goes nor why. Helen saw her also. 

"Who is this royal lady that draws near?" she asked of Rei. 

"It is Meriamun the Queen; she whom the Wanderer hath brought to shame. "

"Stay then, I would speak with her. "

"Nay, nay, " cried Rei. "She loves thee not, Lady, and will slay thee. "

"That cannot be, " Helen answered. 

II

THE COMING OF PHARAOH

Presently, as she walked, Meriamun saw Rei the Priest and the veiledwoman at his side, and she saw on the woman's breast a red jewel thatburnt and glowed like a heart of fire. Then like fire burned the heartof Meriamun, for she knew that this was Argive Helen who stood beforeher, Helen whose shape she had stolen like a thief and with the mind ofa thief. 

"Say, " she cried to Rei, who bowed before her, "say, who is this woman?"

Rei looked at the Queen with terrified eyes, and spake in a voice ofwarning. 

"This is that Goddess who dwells in the Temple of Hathor, " he said. "Lether pass in peace, O Queen. "

"In peace she shall pass indeed, " answered Meriamun. "What saidestthou, old dotard? That Goddess! Nay, no Goddess have we here, but anevil-working witch, who hath brought woes unnumbered upon Khem. Becauseof her, men die month by month till the vaults of the Temple of Hathorare full of her slain. Because of her it was that curse upon curse fellon the land--the curse of water turned to blood, of hail and of terribledarkness, ay, and the curse of the death of the firstborn among whom myown son died. And thou hast dared, Rei, to bring this witch here to myPalace halls! By Amen if I had not loved thee always thy life shouldpay the price. And thou, " and she stretched her hand towards the Helen, "thou hast dared to come. It is well, no more shalt thou bring evil uponKhem. Hearken, slave, " and she turned to Kurri the Sidonian; "draw thatknife of thine and plunge it to the hilt in the breast of yonder woman. So shalt thou win freedom and all thy goods shall be given thee again. "

Then for the first time Helen spake:

"I charge thee, Lady, " she said in slow soft tones, "bid not thy servantdo this deed, for though I have little will to bring evil upon men, yetI may not lightly be affronted. "

Now Kurri hung back doubtfully fingering his dagger. 

"Draw, knave, draw!" cried Meriamun, "and do my bidding, or presentlythou shalt be slain with this same knife. "

When the Sidonian heard these words he cried aloud with fear, for hewell knew that as the Queen said so it would be done to him. Instantlyhe drew the great knife and rushed upon the veiled woman. But as hecame, Helen lifted her veil so that her eyes fell upon his eyes, andthe brightness of their beauty was revealed to him; and when he saw herloveliness he stopped suddenly as one who is transfixed of a spear. Thenmadness came upon him, and with a cry he lifted the knife, and plungingit, not into her heart, but into his own, fell down dead. 

This then was the miserable end of Kurri the Sidonian, slain by thesight of the Beauty. 

"Thou seest, Lady, " said Helen, turning from the dead Sidonian, "no manmay harm me. "

For a moment the Queen stood astonished, while Rei the Priest mutteredprayers to the protecting Gods. Then she cried:

"Begone, thou living curse, begone! Wherefore art thou come here to workmore woe in this house of woe and death?"

"Fear not, " answered the Helen, "presently I will begone and troublethee no more. Thou askest why I am come hither. I came to see him whowas my love, and whom but last night I should have wed, but whom theGods have brought to shame unspeakable, Odysseus of Ithaca, Odysseus, Laertes' son. For this cause I came, and I have stayed to look upon theface of her whose beauty had power to drive the thought of me from theheart of Odysseus, and bring him, who of all men was the greatest heroand the foremost left alive, to do a dastard deed and make his mightyname a byword and a scorn. Knowest thou, Meriamun, that I find thematter strange, since if all else be false, yet is this true, that amongwomen the fairest are the most strong. Thou art fair indeed, Meriamun, but judge if thou art more fair than Argive Helen, " and she drew theveil from her face so that the splendour of her beauty shone out uponthe Queen's dark loveliness. Thus for awhile they stood each facingeach, and to Rei it seemed as though the spirits of Death and Lifelooked one on another, as though the darkness and the daylight stood inwoman's shape before him. 

"Thou art fair indeed, " said the Queen, "but in this, witch, has thybeauty failed to hold him whom thou wouldst wed from the most shamelesssin. Little methinks can that man have loved thee who crept upon me likea thief to snatch my honour from me. "

Then Helen bethought her of what Rei had said, that Meriamun loved theWanderer, and she spoke again:

"Now it comes into my heart, Egyptian, that true and false are mixed inthis tale of thine. Hard it is to believe that Odysseus of Ithaca couldwork such a coward deed as this, or, unbidden, seek to clasp thee to hisheart. Moreover, I read in thine eyes that thou thyself dost love theman whom thou namest dastard. Nay, hold thy peace, look not so wildlyon me whom thou canst not harm, but hearken. Whether thy tale be true orfalse I know not, who use no magic and learn those things only that theGods reveal to me. But this at the least is true, that Odysseus, whom Ishould have wed, has looked on thee with eyes of love, even in that hourwhen I waited to be made his wife. Therefore the love that but two daysagone bloomed in my heart, dies and withers; or if it does not, at leastI cast it from me and tread its flowers beneath my feet. For this doomthe Gods have laid upon me, who am of all women the most hapless, tolive beloved but loveless through many years, and at the last to loveand be betrayed. And now I go hence back to my temple shrine; but fearnot, Meriamun, not for long shall I trouble thee or Khem, and men shalldie no more because of my beauty, for I shall presently pass hencewhither the Gods appoint; and this I say to thee--deal gently with thatman who has betrayed my faith, for whatever he did was done for the loveof thee. It is no mean thing to have won the heart of Odysseus of Ithacaout of the hand of Argive Helen. Fare thee well, Meriamun, who wouldsthave slain me. May the Gods grant thee better days and more of joy thanis given to Helen, who would look upon thy face no more. "

Thus she spake, and letting her veil fall turned to go. For awhile theQueen stood shamed to silence by these gentle words, that fell like dewupon the fires of her hate. But ere Helen had passed the length of aspear her fury burned up again. What, should she let this strange womango--this woman who alone of all that breathed was more beautiful thanshe, by the aid of whose stolen beauty she alone had won her love, andfor whose sake she had endured such bitter words of scorn? Nay, whileHelen yet lived she could find not joy nor sleep. But were Helen dead, then perchance all might yet be well, and the Wanderer yet be hers, forwhen the best is gone men turn them to the better. 

"Close the gates and bar them, " she cried to the men, who now streamedback into the hall; and they ran to do her bidding, so that before Helenreached the Palace doors, they had been shut and the gates of bronzebeyond had clashed like the shields of men. 

Now Helen drew near the doors. 

"Stay yon witch, " cried the Queen to those who guarded them, and inwonder they poised their spears to bar the way to Helen. But she onlylifted her veil and looked upon them. Then their arms fell from theirhands and they stood amazed at the sight of beauty. 

"Open, I beseech you, " said the Helen gently, and straightway theyopened the doors and she passed through, followed by those who guardedthem, by the Queen, and by Rei. But one man there was who did not seeher beauty, and he strove in vain to hold back the doors and to claspHelen as she passed. 

Now she drew near to the gates--

"Shoot the witch!" cried Meriamun the Queen; "if she pass the gates, bymy royal word I swear that ye shall die every man of you. Shoot her witharrows. "

Then three men drew their bows mightily. The string of the bow of oneburst, and the bow was shattered, and the arrow of the second slipped ashe drew it, and passing downwards pierced his foot; and the shaft of thethird swerved ere it struck the breast of Helen, and sunk into the heartof that soldier who was next to the Queen, so that he fell down dead. It was the same man who had striven to hold to the doors and clasp theHelen. 

Then Helen turned and spoke:

"Bid not thy guard to shoot again, Meriamun, lest the arrow find _thy_heart, for, know this, no man may harm me;" and once more she lifted herveil, and speaking to those at the gates said: "Open, I beseech you, andlet the Hathor pass. "

Now their weapons fell from their hands, and they looked upon herbeauty, and they too made haste to open the gates. The great gatesclanged upon their sockets and rolled back. She passed through them, andall who were there followed after her. But when they looked, lo! she hadmingled with the people who went to and fro and was gone. 

Then Meriamun grew white with rage because Helen whom she hated hadescaped her, and turning to those men who had opened the doors and thosewho had given passage of the gates, who yet stood looking on each otherwith dazed eyes, she doomed them to die. 

But Rei, kneeling before her, prayed for their lives:

"Ill will come of it, O Queen!" he said, "as ill came to yonder Sidonianand to the soldier at thy feet, for none may work evil on this Goddess, or those who befriended the Goddess. Slay them not, O Queen, lest illtidings follow on the deed!"

Then the Queen turned on him madly:

"Hearken thou, Rei!" she said; "speak thus again, and though I haveloved thee and thou hast been the chief of the servants of Pharaoh, this I swear, that thou shalt die the first. Already the count is longbetween thee and me, for it was thou who didst bring yon accursed witchto my Palace. Now thou hast heard, and of this be sure, as I have spokenso I will do. Get thee gone--get thee from my sight, I say, lest I slaythee now. I take back thy honours, I strip thee of thy offices, I gatherthy wealth into my treasury. Go forth a beggar, and let me see thy faceno more!"

Then Rei held his peace and fled, for it were better to stand before alioness robbed of her whelps than before Meriamun in her rage. Thereonthe gates were shut again, and the captain of the gates was draggedbefore the place where the Queen stood, and asking no mercy and takinglittle heed, for still his soul was filled with the beauty of Helen asa cup with wine, he suffered death, for his head was straightway smittenfrom him. 

Rei, watching from afar, groaned aloud, then turned and left the Palace, but the Queen called to the soldiers to slay on. Even as she calledthere came a cry of woe without the Palace gates. Men looked each oneach. Again the cry rose and a voice without called, "Pharaoh is comeagain! Pharaoh is come again!" and there rose a sound of knocking at thegates. 

Now for that while Meriamun thought no more of slaying the men, butbade them open the gates. They opened, and a man entered clad in raimentstained with travel. His eyes were wild, his hair was dishevelled, andscarce could his face be known for the face of Pharaoh Meneptah, it wasso marred with grief and fear. 

Pharaoh looked on the Queen--he looked upon the dead who lay at herfeet, then laughed aloud:

"What!" he cried, "more dead! Is there then no end to Death and thenumber of his slain? Nay, here he doth work but feebly. Perchance hisarm grows weary. Come, where are _thy_ dead, Queen? Bring forth thydead!"

"What hath chanced, Meneptah, that thou speakest thus madly?" asked theQueen. "She whom they name the Hathor hath passed here, and these, andanother who lies yonder, do but mark her path. Speak!"

"Ay, I will speak, Queen. I have a merry tale to tell. Thou sayest thatthe Hathor hath passed here and these mark her footsteps. Well, I cancap thy story. He whom the Apura name Jahveh hath passed yonder by theSea of Weeds, and there lie many, lie to mark His footsteps. "

"Thy host! Where is thy host?" cried the Queen. "At the least some areleft. "

"Yes, Queen, _all_ are left--all--all--save myself alone. They drift toand fro in the Sea of Weeds--they lie by tens of thousands on its banks;the gulls tear their eyes, the lion of the desert rends their flesh;they lie unburied, their breath sighs in the sea gales, their bloodsinks into the salt sands, and Osiris numbers them in the hosts of hell. Hearken! I came upon the tribes of the Apura by the banks of the Sea ofWeeds. I came at eve, but I might not fall upon them because of a veilof darkness that spread between my armies and the hosts of the Apura. All night long through the veil of darkness, and through the shriekingof a great gale, I heard a sound as of the passing of a mightypeople--the clangour of their arms, the voices of captains, the stamp ofbeasts, and the grinding of wheels. The morning came, and lo! before methe waters of the sea were built up as a wall on the right hand and theleft, and between the walls of water was dry land, and the Apura passedbetween the walls. Then I cried to my captains to arise and followswiftly, and they did my bidding. But the chariot wheels drew heavily inthe sand, so that before all my host had entered between the waters, theApura had passed the sea. Then of a sudden, as last of all I passed downinto the path of the ocean bed, the great wind ceased, and as it ceased, lo! the walls of water that were on either side of the sea path felltogether with noise like the noise of thunder. I turned my chariotwheels, and fled back, but my soldiers, my chariots, and my horses wereswallowed; once more they were seen again on the crest of the blackwaves like a gleam of light upon a cloud, once a great cry arose to theheaven; then all was done and all was still, and of my hosts I alone wasleft alive of men. "

So Pharaoh spoke, and a great groan rose from those who hearkened. OnlyMeriamun spoke:

"So shall things go with us while that False Hathor dwells in Khem. "

Now as she spoke thus, again there came a sound of knocking at the gatesand a cry of "Open--a messenger! a messenger!"

"Open!" said Meriamun, "though his tidings be ill, scarce can they matchthese that have been told. "

The gates were opened, and one came through them. His eyes stared widein fear, so dry was his throat with haste and with the sand, that hestood speechless before them all. 

"Give him wine, " cried Meriamun, and wine was brought. Then he drank, and he fell upon his knees before the Queen, for he knew not Pharaoh. 

"Thy tidings!" she cried. "Be swift with thy tidings. "

"Let the Queen pardon me, " he said. "Let her not be wrath. These are mytidings. A mighty host marches towards the city of On, a host gatheredfrom all lands of the peoples of the North, from the lands of theTulisha, of the Shakalishu, of the Liku, and of the Shairdana. Theymarch swiftly and raven, they lay the country waste, naught is leftbehind them save the smoke of burning towns, the flight of vultures, andthe corpses of men. "

"Hast done?" said Meriamun. 

"Nay, O Queen! A great fleet sails with them up the eastern mouth ofSihor, and in it are twelve thousand chosen warriors of the Aquaiusha, the sons of those men who sacked Troy town. "

And now a great groan went up to heaven from the lips of those whohearkened. Only Meriamun spoke thus:

"And yet the Apura are gone, for whose sake, ye say, came the plagues. They are fled, but the curse remains, and so shall things ever be withus while yon False Hathor dwells in Khem. "

III

THE BED OF TORMENT

It was nightfall, and Pharaoh sat at meat and Meriamun sat by him. Theheart of Pharaoh was very heavy. He thought of that great army which nowwashed to and fro on the waters of the Sea of Weeds, of whose numberhe alone had lived to tell the tale. He thought also of the host of theApura, who made a mock of him in the desert. But most of all he broodedon the tidings that the messenger had brought, tidings of the marchof the barbarians and of the fleet of the Aquaiusha that sailed on theeastern stream of Sihor. All that day he had sat in his council chamber, and sent forth messengers east and north and south, bidding them gatherthe mercenaries from every town and in every city, men to make waragainst the foe, for here, in his white-walled city of Tanis, there wereleft but five thousand soldiers. And now, wearied with toil and war, hesat at meat, and as he sat bethought him of the man whom he had left toguard the Queen. 

"Where, then, is that great Wanderer, he who wore the golden harness?"he asked presently. 

"I have a tale to tell thee of the man, " Meriamun answered slowly, "atale which I have not told because of all the evil tidings that beatabout our ears like sand in a desert wind. "

"Tell on, " said Pharaoh. 

Then she bent towards him, whispering in his ear. 

As she whispered, the face of Pharaoh grew black as the night, and ereall the tale was done he sprang to his feet. 

"By Amen and by Ptah!" he cried, "here at least we have a foe whom wemay conquer. Thou and I, Meriamun, my sister and my queen, are set asfar each from each as the sky is set from the temple top, and littleof love is there between us. Yet I will wipe away this blot upon thyhonour, which also is a blot upon my own. Sleepless shall this Wandererlie to-night, and sorry shall he go to-morrow, but to-morrow night heshall sleep indeed. "

Thereupon he clapped his hands, summoning the guard, and bade them passto the dungeon where the Wanderer lay, and lead him thence to the placeof punishment. He bade them also call the tormentors to make ready theinstruments of their craft, and await him in the place of punishment. 

Then he sat for awhile, drinking sullenly, till one came to tell himthat all was prepared. Then Pharaoh rose. 

"Comest thou with me?" he asked. 

"Nay, " said Meriamun, "I would not look upon the man again; and this Icharge thee. Go not down to him this night. Let him be found upon thebed of torment, and let the tormentors give him food and wine, for so heshall die more hardly. Then let them light the fires at his head and athis feet and leave him till the dawn alone in the place of torment. Sohe shall die a hundred deaths ere ever his death begins. "

"As thou wilt, " answered Pharaoh. "Mete out thine own punishment. To-morrow when I have slept I will look upon his torment. " And he spoketo his servants as she desired. 

The Wanderer lay on the bed of torment in the place of torment. Theyhad taken the gag from his mouth, and given him food and wine as Pharaohcommanded. He ate and drank and his strength came back to him. Then theymade fast his fetters, lit the braziers at his head and foot, and lefthim with mocking words. 

He lay upon the bed of stone and groaned in the bitterness of his heart. Here then was the end of his wanderings, and this was the breast of theGolden Helen in whose arms Aphrodite had sworn that he should lie. Oh, that he were free again and stood face to face with his foes, hisharness on his back! Nay, it might not be, no mortal strength couldburst these fetters, not even the strength of Odysseus, Laertes' son. Where now were those Gods whom he had served? Should he never again hearthe clarion cry of Pallas? Why then had he turned him from Pallas andworshipped at the shrine of the false Idalian Queen? Thus it was thatshe kept her oaths; thus she repaid her votary. 

So he thought in the bitterness of his heart as he lay with closed eyesupon the bed of torment whence there was no escape, and groaned: "Would, Aphrodite, that I had never served thee, even for one little hour, thenhad my lot gone otherwise. "

Now he opened his eyes, and lo! a great glory rolled about the placeof torment, and as he wondered at the glory, a voice spoke from itsmidst--the voice of the Idalian Aphrodite:

"Blame me not, Odysseus, " said the heavenly voice; "blame me not becausethou art come to this pass. Thyself, son of Laertes, art to blame. Whatdid I tell thee? Was it not that thou shouldst know the Golden Helen bythe Red Star on her breast, the jewel whence fall the red drops fast, and by the Star alone? And did she not tell thee, also, that thoushouldst know her by the Star? Yet when one came to thee wearing no Starbut girdled with a Snake, my words were all forgotten, thy desiresled thee whither thou wouldst not go. Thou wast blinded by desire andcouldst not discern the False from the True. Beauty has many shapes, nowit is that of Helen, now that of Meriamun, each sees it as he desiresit. But the Star is yet the Star, and the Snake is yet the Snake, andhe who, bewildered of his lusts, swears by the Snake when he should havesworn by the Star, shall have the Snake for guerdon. "

She ceased, and the Wanderer spoke, groaning bitterly:

"I have sinned, O Queen!" he said. "Is there then no forgiveness for mysin?"

"Yea, there is forgiveness, Odysseus, but first there is punishment. This is thy fate. Never now, in this space of life, shalt thou be thelord of the Golden Helen. For thou hast sworn by the Snake, and his thouart, nor mayest thou reach the Star. Yet it still shines on. Throughthe mists of death it shall shine for thee, and when thou wakest again, behold, thine eyes shall see it fitfully. 

"And now, this for thy comfort. Here thou shalt not die, nor by torment, for thy death shall come to thee from the water as the dead seerforetold, but ere thou diest, once more thou shalt look upon the GoldenHelen, and hear her words of love and know her kiss, though thine sheshall not be. And learn that a great host marches upon the land of Khem, and with it sails a fleet of thine own people, the Achæans. Go down andmeet them and take what comes, where the swords shine that smote Troy. And this fate is laid upon thee, that thou shalt do battle against thyown people, even against the sons of them by whose side thou didstfight beneath the walls of Ilios, and in that battle thou shalt find thydeath, and in thy death, thou Wanderer, thou shalt find that which allmen seek, the breast of the immortal Helen. For though here on earthshe seems to live eternally, it is but the shadow of her beauty that mensee--each as he desires it. In the halls of Death she dwells, and inthe garden of Queen Persephone, and there she shall be won, for thereno more is beauty guarded of Those that stand between men and joy, andthere no more shall the Snake seem as the Star, and Sin have power tosever those that are one. Now make thy heart strong, Odysseus, and so doas thy wisdom tells thee. Farewell!"

Thus the Goddess spoke from the cloud of glory, and lo! she was gone. But the heart of the Wanderer was filled with joy because he knew thatthe Helen was not lost to him for ever, and he no more feared the deathof shame. 

*****

Now it was midnight, and Pharaoh slept. But Meriamun the Queen sleptnot. She rose from her bed, she wrapped herself in a dark cloak that hidher face, and taking a lamp in her hand, glided through the empty hallstill she came to a secret stair down which she passed. There was a gateat the foot of the stair, and a guard slept by it. She pushed him withher foot. 

He awoke and sprang towards her, but she held a signet before his eyes, an old ring of great Queen Taia, whereon a Hathor worshipped the sun. Then he bowed and opened the gate. She swept on through many passages, deep into the bowels of the earth, till she came to the door of a littlechamber where a light shone. Men talked in the chamber, and she listenedto their talk. They spoke much and laughed gleefully. Then she enteredthe doorway and looked upon them. They were six in number, evil-eyed menof Ethiopia, and seated in a circle. In the centre of the circle lay thewaxen image of a man, and they were cutting it with knives and searingit with needles of iron and pincers made red-hot, and many instrumentsstrange and dreadful to look upon. For these were the tormentors, andthey spoke of those pains that to-morrow they should wreak upon theWanderer, and practised them. 

But Meriamun, who loved him, shivered as she looked, and muttered thusbeneath her breath:

"This I promise you, black ministers of death, that in the same fashionye shall die ere another night be sped. "

Then she passed into the chamber, holding the signet on high, and thetormentors fell upon their faces before her majesty. She passed betweenthem, and as she went she stamped with her sandalled foot upon thewaxen image and brake it. On the further side of the chamber was anotherpassage, and this she followed till she reached a door of stone thatstood ajar. Here she paused awhile, for from within the chamber therecame a sound of singing, and the voice was the Wanderer's voice, andthus he sang:

 "Endure, my heart: not long shalt thou endure The shame, the smart; The good and ill are done; the end is sure; Endure, my heart! There stand two vessels by the golden throne Of Zeus on high, From these he scatters mirth and scatters moan, To men that die. And thou of many joys hast had thy share, Thy perfect part; Battle and love, and evil things and fair; Endure, my heart! Fight one last greatest battle under shield, Wage that war well: Then seek thy fellows in the shadowy field Of asphodel, There is the knightly Hector; there the men Who fought for Troy; Shall we not fight our battles o'er again? Were that not joy? Though no sun shines beyond the dusky west, Thy perfect part There shalt thou have of the unbroken rest; Endure, my heart!"

Meriamun heard and wondered at this man's hardihood, and the greatnessof his heart who could sing thus as he lay upon the bed of torment. Nowshe pushed the door open silently and passed in. The place where shestood was dreadful. It was shaped as a lofty vault, and all the wallswere painted with the torments of those who pass down to Set afterliving wickedly on earth. In the walls were great rings of bronze, andchains and fetters of bronze, wherein the bones of men yet hung. In thecentre of the vault there was a bed of stone on which the Wanderer wasfastened with fetters. He was naked, save only for a waistcloth, and athis head and feet burned polished braziers that gave light to the vault, and shone upon the instruments of torment. Beyond the further braziersgrinned the gate of Sekhet, that is shaped like a woman, and the chainswherein the victim is set for the last torment by fire, were hangingfrom the roof. 

Meriamun passed stealthily behind the head of the Wanderer, who mightnot see her because of the straitness of his bonds. Yet it seemed to herthat he heard somewhat, for he ceased from singing and turned his earto hearken. She stood awhile in silence looking on him she loved, whoof all living men was the goodliest by far. Then at length he spokecraftily:

"Who art thou?" he said. "If thou art of the number of the tormentors, begin thy work. I fear thee not, and no groan shall thy worst torturewring from these lips of mine. But I tell thee this, that ere I be threedays dead, the Gods shall avenge me terribly, both on thee and those whosent thee. With fire and with sword they shall avenge me, for a greathost gathers and draws nigh, a host of many nations gathered out of alllands, ay, and a fleet manned with the sons of my own people, of theAchæans terrible in war. They rush on like ravening wolves, and the landis black before them, but the land shall be stamped red behind theirfeet. Soon they shall give this city to the flames, the smoke of itshall go up to heaven, and the fires shall be quenched at last in theblood of its children--ay, in thy blood, thou who dost look on me. "

Hearing these words Meriamun bent forward to look on the face of thespeaker and to see what was written there; and as she moved, her cloakslipped apart, showing the Snake's head with the eyes of flame that wasset about her as a girdle. Fiercely they gleamed, and the semblance ofthem was shown faintly on the polished surface of the brazier whereinthe fire burned at the Wanderer's feet. He saw it, and now he knew whostood behind him. 

"Say, Meriamun the Queen--Pharaoh's dishonoured wife, " he said, "say, wherefore art thou come to look upon thy work? Nay, stand not behindme, stand where I may see thee. Fear not, I am strongly bound, nor may Ilift a hand against thee. "

Then Meriamun, still speaking no word, but wondering much because heknew her ere his eyes fell upon her, passed round the bed of torment, and throwing down her cloak stood before him in her dark and royalloveliness. 

He looked upon her beauty, then spoke again:

"Say, wherefore art thou come hither, Meriamun? Surely, with my ears Iheard thee swear that I had wronged thee. Wouldst thou then look on himwho wronged thee, or art thou come, perchance, to watch my torments, while thy slaves tear limb from limb, and quench yon fires with myblood? Oh, thou evil woman, thou hast worked woe on me indeed, andperchance canst work more woe now that I lie helpless here. But this Itell thee, that thy torments shall outnumber mine as the stars outnumberthe earth. For here, and hereafter, thou shalt be parched with such athirst of love as never may be quenched, and in many another land, andin many another time, thou shalt endure thine agony afresh. Again, andyet again, thou shalt clasp and conquer; again, and yet again, thoushalt let slip, and in the moment of triumph lose. By the Snake's head Iswore my troth to thee, I, who should have sworn by the Star; and thisI tell thee, Meriamun, that as the Star shall shine and be my beaconthrough the ages, so through the ages shall the Snake encircle thee andbe thy doom!"

"Hold!" said Meriamun, "pour no more bitter words upon me, who amdistraught of love, and was maddened by thy scorn. Wouldst thou knowthen why I am come hither? For this cause I am come, to save theefrom thy doom. Hearken, the time is short. It is true--though how thouknowest it I may not guess--it is true that the barbarians march onKhem, and with them sails a fleet laden with the warriors of thine ownpeople. This also is true, Pharaoh has returned alone: and all his hostis swallowed in the Sea of Weeds. And I, foolish that I am, I would savethee, Odysseus, thus: I will put it in the heart of Pharaoh to pardonthy great offence, and send thee forward against the foe; yes, I can doit. But this thou shalt swear to me, to be true to Pharaoh, and smitethe barbarian host. "

"That I will swear, " said the Wanderer, "ay, and keep the oath, thoughit is hard to do battle on my kin. Is that all thy message, Meriamun?"

"Not all, Odysseus. One more thing must thou swear, or if thou swearestit not, here thou shalt surely die. Know this, she who in Khem is namedthe Hathor, but who perchance has other names, hath put thee from herbecause last night thou wast wed to me. "

"It may well be so, " said the Wanderer. 

"She hath put thee from her, and thou--thou art bound to me by thatwhich cannot be undone, and by an oath that may not be broken; inwhatever shape I walk, or by whatever name I am known among men, stillthou art bound to me, as I am bound to thee. This then thou shalt swear, that thou wilt tell naught of last night's tale to Pharaoh. "

"That I swear, " said the Wanderer. 

"Also that if Pharaoh be gathered to Osiris, and it should chance thatshe who is named the Hathor pass with him to the Underworld, then thatthou, Odysseus, wilt wed me, Meriamun, and be faithful to me for thylife days. "

Now the crafty Odysseus took counsel with his heart, and bethought himof the words of the Goddess. He saw that it was in the mind of Meriamunto slay Pharaoh and the Helen. But he cared nothing for the fate ofPharaoh, and knew well that Helen might not be harmed, and that thoughshe change eternally, wearing now this shape, and now that, yet she diesonly when the race of men is dead--then to be gathered to the numberof the Gods. This he knew also, that now he must go forth on his lastwandering, for Death should come upon him from the water. Therefore heanswered readily:

"That oath I swear also, Meriamun, and if I break it may I perish inshame and for ever. "

Now Meriamun heard, and knelt beside him, looking upon him with eyes oflove. 

"It is well, Odysseus: perchance ere long I shall claim thy oath. Oh, think not so ill of me: if I have sinned, I have sinned from love ofthee. Long years ago, Odysseus, thy shadow fell upon my heart and Iclasped its emptiness. Now thou art come, and I, who pursued a shadowfrom sleep to sleep and dream to dream, saw thee a living man, and lovedthee to my ruin. Then I tamed my pride and came to win thee to my heart, and the Gods set another shape upon me--so thou sayest--and in thatshape, the shape of her thou seekest, thou didst make me wife to thee. Perchance she and I are _one_, Odysseus. At the least, not so readilyhad _I_ forsaken thee. Oh, when thou didst stand in thy might holdingthose dogs at bay till the Sidonian knave cut thy bowstring----"

"What of him? Tell me, what of Kurri? This would I ask thee, Queen, thathe be laid where I lie, and die the death to which I am doomed. "

"Gladly would I give thee the boon, " she answered, "but thou askest toolate. The False Hathor looked upon him, and he slew himself. Now I willaway--the night wanes and Pharaoh must dream dreams ere dawn. Fare theewell, Odysseus. Thy bed is hard to-night, but soft is the couch of kingsthat waits thee, " and she went forth from him. 

"Ay, Meriamun, " said the Wanderer, looking after her. "Hard is my bedto-night, and soft is the couch of the kings of Men that waits me in therealms of Queen Persephone. But it is not thou who shalt share it. Hardis my bed to-night, harder shall thine be through all the nightsof death that are to come when the Erinnyes work their will on folkforsworn. "

IV

PHARAOH'S DREAM

Pharaoh slept heavily in his place, for he was wearied with grief andtoil. But Meriamun passed into the chamber, and standing at the foot ofthe golden bed, lifted up her hands and by her art called visions downon Pharaoh, false dreams through the Ivory Gate. So Pharaoh dreamed, andthus his vision went:--

He dreamed that he slept in his bed, and that the statue of Ptah, theCreator, descended from the pedestal by the temple gate and came tohim, towering over him like a giant. Then he dreamed that he awoke, andprostrating himself before the God, asked the meaning of his coming. Thereon the God spoke to him:--

"Meneptah, my son, whom I love, hearken unto me. The Nine-bow barbariansoverrun the ancient land of Khem; nine nations march up against Khemand lay it waste. Hearken unto me, my son, and I will give thee victory. Awake, awake from sloth, and I will give thee victory. Thou shalt hewdown the Nine-bow barbarians as a countryman hews a rotting palm; theyshall fall, and thou shalt spoil them. But hearken unto me, my son, thoushalt not thyself go up against them. Low in thy dungeon there lies amighty chief, skilled in the warfare of the barbarians, a Wanderer whohath wandered far. Thou shalt release him from his bonds and set himover thy armies, and of the sin that he has sinned thou shalt take noheed. Awake, awake, Meneptah; with this bow which I give thee shalt thousmite the Nine-bow barbarians. "

Then Meriamun laid the bow of the Wanderer, even the black bow ofEurytus, on the bed beside Pharaoh, and passed thence to her ownchamber, and the deceitful dream too passed away. 

Early in the morning, a waiting-woman came to the Queen saying thatPharaoh would speak with her. She went into the ante-chamber and foundhim there, and in his hand was the black bow of Eurytus. 

"Dost thou know this weapon?" he asked. 

"Yea, I know it, " she answered; "and thou shouldst know it also, forsurely it saved us from the fury of the people on the night of the deathof the first-born. It is the bow of the Wanderer, who lies in theplace of torment, and waits his doom because of the wrong he would havewrought upon me. "

"If he hath wronged thee, yet it is he who shall save Khem fromthe barbarians, " said Pharaoh. "Listen now to the dream that I havedreamed, " and he told her all the vision. 

"It is indeed evil that he who would have wrought such wickedness uponme should go forth honoured, the first of the host of Pharaoh, " quothMeriamun. "Yet as the God hath spoken, so let it be. Send now and bidthem loose the man from the place of torment, and put his armour on himand bring him before thee. "

So Pharaoh went out, and the Wanderer was loosed from his bed of stoneand clothed again in his golden harness, and came forth glorious to see, and stood before Pharaoh. But no arms were given him. Then Pharaoh toldhim all his dream, and why he caused him to be released from the grip ofthe tormentors. The Wanderer hearkened in silence, saying no word. 

"Now choose, thou Wanderer, " said Pharaoh: "choose if thou wilt beborne back to the bed of torment, there to die beneath the hands of thetormentors, or if thou wilt go forth as the captain of my host to dobattle with the Nine-bow barbarians who waste the land of Khem. It seemsthere is little faith in thine oaths, therefore I ask no more oaths fromthee. But this I swear, that if thou art false to my trust, I will yetfind means to bring thee back to that chamber whence thou wast led butnow. "

Then the Wanderer spoke:--

"Of that charge, Pharaoh, which is laid against me I will say nothing, though perchance if I stood upon my trial for the sin that is laidagainst me, I might find words to say. Thou askest no oath from me, andno oath I swear, yet I tell thee that if thou givest me ten thousandsoldiers and a hundred chariots, I will smite these foes of thine sothat they shall come no more to Khem, ay, though they be of my ownpeople, yet will I smite them, and if I fail, then may those who go withme slay me and send me down to Hades. "

Thus he spoke, and as he spoke he searched the hall with his eyes. For he desired to see Rei the Priest, and charge him with a message toHelen. But he sought him in vain, for Rei had fled, and was in hidingfrom the anger of Meriamun. 

Then Pharaoh bade his officers take the Wanderer, and set him ina chariot and bear him to the city of On, where Pharaoh's host wasgathering. Their charge was to watch him night and day with upliftedswords, and if he so much as turned his face from the foe towards Tanis, then they should slay him. But when the host of Pharaoh marched fromOn to do battle on the foe, then they should give the Wanderer his ownsword and the great black bow, and obey him in everything. But if heturned his back upon the foe, then they should slay him; or if the hostof Pharaoh were driven back by the foe, then they should slay him. 

The Wanderer heard, and smiled as a wolf smiles, but spoke no word. Thereon the great officers of Pharaoh took him and led him forth. Theyset him in a chariot, and with the chariot went a thousand horsemen; andsoon Meriamun, watching from the walls of Tanis, saw the long line ofdesert dust that marked the passing of the Wanderer from the city whichhe should see no more. 

The Wanderer also looked back on Tanis with a heavy heart. There, faraway, he could see the shrine of Hathor gleaming like crystal above thetawny flood of waters. And he must go down to death, leaving no word forHer who sat in the shrine and deemed him faithless and forsworn. Evilwas the lot that the Gods had laid upon him, and bitter was his guerdon. 

His thoughts were sad enough while the chariot rolled towards the cityof On, where the host of Pharaoh was gathering, and the thunder of thefeet of horses echoed in his ears, when, as he pondered, it chanced thathe looked up. There, on a knoll of sand before him, a bow-shot from thechariot, stood a camel, and on the camel a man sat as though he waitedthe coming of the host. Idly the Wanderer wondered who this might be, and, as he wondered, the man urged the camel towards the chariot, and, halting before it cried "Hold!" in a loud voice. 

"Who art thou?" cried the captain of the chariot, "who darest cry 'hold'to the host of Pharaoh?"

"I am one who have tidings of the barbarians, " the man made answer fromthe camel. 

The Wanderer looked on him. He was wondrous little, withered and old;moreover, his skin was black as though with the heat of the sun, and hisclothing was as a beggar's rags, though the trappings of the camel wereof purple leather and bossed with silver. Again the Wanderer looked; heknew him not, and yet there was that in his face which seemed familiar. 

Now the captain of the chariot bade the driver halt the horses, andcried, "Draw near and tell thy tidings. "

"To none will I tell my tidings save to him who shall lead the host ofPharaoh. Let him come down from the chariot and speak with me. "

"That may not be, " said the captain, for he was charged that theWanderer should have speech with none. 

"As thou wilt, " answered the aged man upon the camel; "go then, go tothy doom! thou art not the first who hath turned aside a messenger fromthe Gods. "

"I am minded to bid the soldiers shoot thee with arrows, " cried thecaptain in anger. 

"So shall my wisdom sink in the sand with my blood, and be lost with mybreath. Shoot on, thou fool. "

Now the captain was perplexed, for from the aspect of the man he deemedthat he was sent by the Gods. He looked at the Wanderer, who took butlittle heed, or so it seemed. But in his crafty heart he knew that thiswas the best way to win speech with the man upon the camel. Then thecaptain took counsel with the captain of the horsemen, and in the endthey said to the Wanderer:

"Descend from the chariot, lord, and walk twelve paces forward, andthere hold speech with the man. But if thou go one pace further, then wewill shoot thee and the man with arrows. " And this he cried out also tohim who sat upon the camel. 

Then the man on the camel descended and walked twelve paces forward, and the Wanderer descended also from the chariot and walked twelve pacesforward, but as one who heeds little what he does. Now the two stoodface to face, but out of earshot of the host, who watched them witharrows set upon the strings. 

"Greetings, Odysseus of Ithaca, son of Laertes, " he said who was clothedin the beggar's weeds. 

The Wanderer looked upon him hard, and knew him through his disguise. 

"Greeting, Rei the Priest, Commander of the Legion of Amen, Chief of theTreasury of Amen. "

"Rei the Priest I am indeed, " he answered, "the rest I am no more, forMeriamun the Queen has stripped me of my wealth and offices, because ofthee, thou Wanderer, and the Immortal whose love thou hast won, and bywhom thou hast dealt so ill. Hearken! I learned by arts known to me ofthe dream of Pharaoh, and of thy sending forth to do battle with thebarbarians. Then I disguised myself as thou seest, and took the swiftestcamel in Tanis, and am come hither by another way to meet thee. Now Iwould ask thee one thing. How came it that thou didst play the Immortalfalse that night? Knowest thou that she waited for thee there by thepylon gate? Ay, there I found her and led her to the Palace, and forthat I am stripped of my rank and goods by Meriamun, and now the Ladyof Beauty is returned to her shrine, grieving bitterly for thyfaithlessness; though how she passed thither I know not. "

"Methought I heard her voice as those knaves bore me to my dungeon, "said the Wanderer. "And she deemed me faithless! Say, Rei, dost thouknow the magic of Meriamun? Dost thou know how she won me to herself inthe shape of Argive Helen?"

And then, in as few words as might be, he told Rei how he had been ledaway by the magic of Meriamun, how he who should have sworn by the Starhad sworn by the Snake. 

When Rei heard that the Wanderer had sworn by the Snake, he shuddered. "Now I know all, " he said. "Fear not, thou Wanderer, not on thee shallall the evil fall, nor on that Immortal whom thou dost love; the Snakethat beguiled thee shall avenge thee also. "

"Rei, " the Wanderer said, "one thing I charge thee. I know that I godown to my death. Therefore I pray thee seek out her whom thou namestthe Hathor and tell her all the tale of how I was betrayed. So shall Idie happily. Tell her also that I crave her forgiveness and that I loveher and her only. "

"This I will do if I may, " Rei answered. "And now the soldiers murmurand I must be gone. Listen, the might of the Nine-bow barbariansrolls up the eastern branch of Sihor. But one day's march from On themountains run down to the edge of the river, and those mountains arepierced by a rocky pass through which the foe will surely come. Set thouthy ambush there, Wanderer, there at Prosopis--so shalt thou smite them. Farewell. I will seek out the Hathor if in any way I can come at her, and tell her all. But of this I warn thee, the hour is big with Fate, and soon will spawn a monstrous birth. Strange visions of doom and deathpassed before mine eyes as I slept last night. Farewell!"

Then he went back to the camel and climbed it, and passing round thearmy vanished swiftly in a cloud of dust. 

The Wanderer also went back to the host, where the captains murmuredbecause of the halt, and mounted his chariot. But he would tell nothingof what the man had said to him, save that he was surely a messengerfrom the Under-world to instruct him in the waging of the war. 

Then the chariot and the horsemen passed on again, till they came to thecity of On, and found the host of Pharaoh gathering in the great walledspace that is before the Temple of Ra. And there they pitched their camphard by the great obelisks that stand at the inner gate, which Rei thearchitect fashioned by Thebes, and the divine Rameses Miamun set up tothe glory of Ra for ever. 

V

THE VOICE OF THE DEAD

When Meriamun the Queen had watched the chariot of the Wanderer till itwas lost in the dust of the desert, she passed down from the Palace roofto the solitude of her chamber. 

Here she sat in her chamber till the darkness gathered, as the evilthoughts gathered in her heart, that was rent with love of him whom shehad won but to lose. Things had gone ill with her, to little purpose shehad sinned after such a fashion as may not be forgiven. Yet there washope. He had sworn that he would wed her when Pharaoh was dead, and whenArgive Helen had followed Pharaoh to the Shades. Should she shrink thenfrom the deed of blood? Nay, from evil to evil she would go. She laidher hand upon the double-headed snake that wound her about, and spakeinto the gloom:

"Osiris waits thee, Meneptah--Osiris waits thee! The Shades of those whohave died for thy love, Helen, are gathering at the gates. It shall bedone. Pharaoh, thou diest to-night. To-morrow night, thou Goddess Helen, shall all thy tale be told. _Man_ may not harm thee indeed, but shallfire refuse to kiss thy loveliness? Are there no _women's_ hands tolight thy funeral pile?"

Then she rose, and calling her ladies, was attired in her most splendidrobes, and caused the uraeus crown to be set upon her head, the snakecirclet of power on her brow, the snake girdle of wisdom at her heart. And now she hid somewhat in her breast, and passed to the ante-chamber, where the Princes gathered for the feast. 

Pharaoh looked up and saw her loveliness. So glorious she seemed in herroyal beauty that his heart forgot its woes, and once again he loved heras he had done in years gone by, when she conquered him at the Game ofPieces, and he had cast his arms about her and she stabbed him. 

She saw the look of love grow on his heavy face, and all her gatheredhate rose in her breast, though she smiled gently with her lips andspake him fair. 

They sat at the feast and Pharaoh drank. And ever as he drank she smiledupon him with her dark eyes and spake him words of gentlest meaning, till at length there was nothing he desired more than that they shouldbe at one again. 

Now the feast was done. They sat in the ante-chamber, for all weregone save Meneptah and Meriamun. Then he came to her and took her hand, looking into her eyes, nor did she say him nay. 

There was a lute lying on a golden table, and there too, as it chanced, was a board for the Game of Pieces, with the dice, and the piecesthemselves wrought in gold. 

Pharaoh took up the gold king from the board and toyed with it in hishand. "Meriamun, " he said, "for these five years we have been apart, thou and I. Thy love I have lost, as a game is lost for one false move, or one throw of the dice; and our child is dead and our armies arescattered, and the barbarians come like flies when Sihor stirs withinhis banks. Love only is left to us, Meriamun. "

She looked at him not unkindly, as if sorrow and wrong had softened herheart also, but she did not speak. 

"Can dead Love waken, Meriamun, and can angry Love forgive?"

She had lifted the lute and her fingers touched listlessly on the cords. 

"Nay, I know not, " she said; "who knows? How did Pentaur sing of Love'srenewal, Pentaur the glorious minstrel of our father, Rameses Miamun?"

He laid the gold king on the board, and began listlessly to cast thedice. He threw the "Hathor" as it chanced, the lucky cast, two sixes, and a thought of better fortune came to him. 

"How did the song run, Meriamun? It is many a year since I heard theesing. "

She touched the lute lowly and sweetly, and then she sang. Her thoughtswere of the Wanderer, but the King deemed that she thought of himself. 

 O joy of Love's renewing, Could Love be born again; Relenting for thy rueing, And pitying my pain: O joy of Love's awaking, Could Love arise from sleep, Forgiving our forsaking The fields we would not reap!

 Fleet, fleet we fly, pursuing The Love that fled amain, But will he list our wooing, Or call we but in vain? Ah! vain is all our wooing, And all our prayers are vain, Love listeth not our suing, Love will not wake again. 

"Will he not waken again?" said Pharaoh. "If two pray together, willLove refuse their prayer?"

"It might be so, " she said, "if two prayed together; for if they prayed, he would have heard already!"

"Meriamun, " said the Pharaoh eagerly, for he thought her heart was movedby pity and sorrow, "once thou didst win my crown at the Pieces, wiltthou play me for thy love?"

She thought for one moment, and then she said:

"Yes, I will play thee, my Lord, but my hand has lost its cunning, andit may well be that Meriamun shall lose again, as she has lost all. Letme set the Pieces, and bring wine for my lord. "

She set the Pieces, and crossing the room, she lifted a great cup ofwine, and put it by Pharaoh's hand. But he was so intent on the gamethat he did not drink. 

He took the field, he moved, she replied, and so the game went betweenthem, in the dark fragrant chamber where the lamp burned, and theQueen's eyes shone in the night. This way and that went the game, tillshe lost, and he swept the board. 

Then in triumph he drained the poisoned cup of wine, and cried, "Pharaohis dead!"

"Pharaoh is dead!" answered Meriamun, gazing into his eyes. 

"What is that look in thine eyes, Meriamun, what is that look in thineeyes?"

And the King grew pale as the dead, for he had seen that lookbefore--when Meriamun slew Hataska. 

"Pharaoh is dead!" she shrilled in the tone of women who wail thedirges. "Pharaoh, great Pharaoh is dead! Ere a man may count a hundredthy days are numbered. Strange! but to-morrow, Meneptah, shalt thou sitwhere Hataska sat, dead on the knees of Death, an Osirian in the lap ofthe Osiris. Die, Pharaoh, die! But while thy diest, hearken. There isone I love, the Wanderer who leads thy hosts. His love I stole by artsknown to me, and because I stole it he would have shamed me, and Iaccused him falsely in the ears of men. But he comes again, and, so sureas thou shalt sit on the knees of Osiris, so surely shall he sit uponthy throne, Pharaoh. For Pharaoh is dead!"

He heard. He gathered his last strength. He rose and staggered towardsher, striking at the air. Slowly she drew away, while he followed her, awful to see. At length he stood still, he threw up his hands, and felldead. 

Then Meriamun drew near and looked at him strangely. 

"Behold the end of Pharaoh, " she said. "That then was a king, upon whosebreath the lives of peoples hung like a poised feather. Well, let himgo! Earth can spare him, and Death is but the richer by a wearyfool. 'Tis done, and well done! Would that to-morrow's task were alsodone--and that Helen lay as Pharaoh lies. So--rinse the cup--and now tosleep--if sleep will come. Ah, where hath sleep flown of late? To-morrowthey'll find him dead. Well, what of it? So do kings ofttimes die. There, I will be going; never were his eyes so large and so unlovely!"

Now the light of morning gathered again on all the temple tops, and menrose from sleep to go about their labours. Meriamun watched it grow asshe lay sleepless in her golden bed, waiting for the cry that presentlyshould ring along the Palace walls. Hark! What was that? The sound ofswinging doors, the rush of running feet. And now it came--long andshrill it rose. 

"Pharaoh is dead! Awake! Awake, ye sleepers! Awake! awake! and look uponthat which has come about. Pharaoh is dead! Pharaoh is dead!"

Then Meriamun arose, and followed by the ladies, rushed from herchamber. 

"Who dreams so evilly?" she said. "Who dreams and cries aloud in hishaunted sleep?"

"O Queen, it is no dream, " said one. "Pass into the ante-chamber andsee. There lies Pharaoh dead, and with no wound upon him to tell themanner of his end. "

Then Meriamun cried aloud with a great cry, and threw her hair about herface, while tears fell from her dark eyes. She passed into the chamber, and there, fallen on his back and cold, lay Pharaoh in his royal robes. Awhile the Queen looked upon him as one who is dumb with grief. Then shelifted up her voice and cried:

"Still is the curse heavy upon Khem and the people of Khem. Pharaoh liesdead; yea, he is dead who has no wound, and this I say, that he isslain of the witchcraft of her whom men name the Hathor. Oh, my Lord, my Lord!" and kneeling, she laid her hand upon his breast; "by this deadheart of thine I swear that I will wreak thy murder on her who wroughtit. Lift him up! Lift up this poor clay, that was the first of kings. Clothe him in the robes of death, and set him on the knees of Osiris inthe Temple of Osiris. Then go forth through the city and call out this, the Queen's command; call it from street to street. This is the Queen'scommand, that 'every woman in Tanis who has lost son, or husband, orbrother, or kin or lover, through the witchcraft of the False Hathor, or by the plagues that she hath wrought on Khem, or in the war with theApura, whom she caused to fly from Khem, do meet me at sundown inthe Temple of Osiris before the face of the God and of dead Pharaoh'sMajesty. '"

So they took Meneptah the Osirian, and wrapping him in the robes ofdeath, bore him to the knees of Osiris, where he should sit a day and anight. And the messengers of Meriamun went forth summoning the womenof the city to meet her at sunset in the Temple of Osiris. Moreover, Meriamun sent out slaves by tens and by twenties to the number of twothousand, bidding them gather up all the wood that was in Tanis, and allthe oil and the bitumen, and bundles of reeds by hundreds such as areused for the thatching of houses, and lay them in piles and stacks in acertain courtyard near the Temple of Hathor. This they did, and so theday wore on, while the women wailed about the streets because of thedeath of Pharaoh. 

Now it chanced that the camel of Rei the Priest fell down from wearinessas it journeyed swiftly back to Tanis. But Rei sped forward on foot, andcame to the gates of Tanis, sorely wearied, towards the evening of thatday. When he heard the wailing of the women, he asked of a passer-bywhat new evil had fallen upon Khem, and learned the death of Pharaoh. Then Rei knew by whose hand Pharaoh was dead, and grieved at heart, because she whom he had served and loved--Meriamun the moon-child--was amurderess. At first he was minded to go up before the Queen and puther to an open shame, and then take his death at her hands; but when heheard that Meriamun had summoned all the women of Tanis to meet her inthe Temple of Osiris, he had another thought. Hurrying to that placewhere he hid in the city, he ate and drank. Then he put off his beggar'srags, and robed himself afresh, and over all drew the garment of an agedcrone, for this was told him, that no man should be suffered to enterthe Temple. Now the day was dying, and already the western sky was red, and he hurried forth and mingled with the stream of women who passedtowards the Temple gates. 

"Who then slew Pharaoh?" asked one; "and why does the Queen summon us tomeet her?"

"Pharaoh is slain by the witchcraft of the False Hathor, " answeredanother; "and the Queen summons us that we may take counsel how to berid of the Hathor. "

"Tell not of the accursed Hathor, " said a third; "my husband and mybrother are dead at her hands, and my son died in the death of thefirst-born that she called down on Khem. Ah, if I could but see her rentlimb from limb I should seek Osiris happily. "

"Some there be, " quoth a fourth, "who say that not the Hathor, but theGods of those Apura brought the woes on Khem, and some that Pharaoh wasslain by the Queen's own hand, because of the love she bears to thatgreat Wanderer who came here a while ago. "

"Thou fool, " answered the first; "how can the Queen love one who wouldhave wrought outrage on her?"

"Such things have been, " said the fourth woman; "perchance he wrought nooutrage, perchance she beguiled him as women may. Yes, yes, such thingshave been. I am old, and I have seen such things. "

"Yea, thou art old, " said the first. "Thou hast no child, no husband, no father, no lover, and no brother. Thou hast lost none who are dear tothee through the magic of the Hathor. Speak one more such slander onthe Queen, and we will fall upon thee and tear thy lying tongue from itsroots. "

"Hush, " said the second woman, "here are the Temple gates. By Isis didany ever see such a multitude of women, and never a man to cheer them, adreary sight, indeed! Come, push on, push on or we shall find no place. Yea, thou soldier--we are women, all women, have no fear. No need tobare our breasts, look at our eyes blind with weeping over the dead. Push on! push on!"

So they passed by the guards and into the gates of the Temple, and withthem went Rei unheeded. Already it was well-nigh filled with women. Although the sun was not yet dead, torches were set about to lightenthe gloom, and by them Rei saw that the curtains before the Shrine weredrawn. Presently the Temple was full to overflowing, the doors were shutand barred, and a voice from behind the veil cried:

"_Silence!_"

Then all the multitude of women were silent, and the light of thetorches flared strangely upon their shifting upturned faces, as firesflare over the white sea-foam. Now the curtains of the Shrine of Osiriswere drawn aside slowly, and the light that burned upon the altarstreamed out between them. It fell upon the foremost ranks of women, itfell upon the polished statue of the Osiris. On the knees of Osiris satthe body of Pharaoh Meneptah, his head resting against the breast ofthe God. Pharaoh was wrapped about with winding clothes like the marblestatue of the God, and in his cold hands were bound the crook, thesceptre, and the scourge, as the crook, the sceptre, and the scourgewere placed in the hands of the effigy of the God. As was the statue ofthe God, so was the body of Pharaoh that sat upon his knees, and coldand awful was the face of Osiris, and cold and awful was the face ofMeneptah the Osirian. 

At the side, and somewhat in front of the statue of the God, a thronewas placed of blackest marble, and on the throne sat Meriamun the Queen. She was glorious to look on. She wore the royal robes of Khem, thedouble-crown of Khem fashioned of gold, and wreathed with the uraeussnakes, was set upon her head; in her hand was the crystal cross ofLife, and between her mantle's purple folds gleamed the eyes of hersnake girdle. She sat awhile in silence speaking no word, and all thewomen wondered at her glory and at dead Pharaoh's awfulness. Then atlength she spoke, low indeed, but so clearly that every word reached thelimits of the Temple hall. 

"Women of Tanis, hear me, the Queen. Let each search the face of each, and if there be any man among your multitude, let him be draggedforth and torn limb from limb, for in this matter no man may hear ourcounsels, lest following his madness he betray them. "

Now every woman looked upon her neighbour, and she who was next to Reilooked hard upon him so that he trembled for his life. But he crouchedinto the shadow and stared back on her boldly as though he doubted ifshe were indeed a woman, and said no word. When all had looked, and noman had been found, Meriamun spoke again. 

"Hearken, women of Tanis, hearken to your sister and your Queen. Woeupon woe is fallen on the head of Khem. Plague upon plague hath smittenthe ancient land. Our first-born are dead, our slaves have spoiled usand fled away, our hosts have been swallowed in the Sea of Weeds, andbarbarians swarm along our shores like locusts. Is it not so, women ofTanis?"

"It is so, O Queen, " they answered, as with one voice. 

"A strange evil hath fallen on the head of Khem. A false Goddess is cometo dwell within the land; her sorceries are great in the land. Month bymonth men go up to look upon her deadly beauty, and month by month theyare slain of her sorceries. She takes the husband from his marriage bed;she draws the lover from her who waits to be a bride; the slave fliesto her from the household of his lord; the priests flock to her from thealtars of the Gods--ay, the very priests of Isis flock forsworn from thealtars of Isis. All look upon her witch-beauty, and to each she shows analtered loveliness, and to all she gives one guerdon--Death! Is it notso, women of Tanis?"

"Alas! alas! it is so, O Queen, " answered the women as with one voice. 

"Woes are fallen on you and Khem, my sisters, but on me most of all arewoes fallen. My people have been slain, my land--the land I love--hasbeen laid waste with plagues; my child, the only one, is dead in thegreat death; hands have been laid on me, the Queen of Khem. Think on it, ye who are women! My slaves are fled, my armies have been swallowed inthe sea; and last, O my sisters, my consort, my beloved lord, mightyPharaoh, son of great Rameses Miamun, hath been taken from me! Look!look! ye who are wives, look on him who was your King and my mostbeloved lord. There he sits, and all my tears and all my prayers may notsummon one single answering sigh from that stilled heart. The curse hathfallen on him also. He too hath been smitten silently with everlastingsilence. Look! look! ye who are wives, and weep with me, ye who are leftwidowed. "

Now the women looked, and a great groan went up from all that multitude, while Meriamun hid her face with the hollow of her hand. Then again shespoke. 

"I have besought the Gods, my sisters; I have dared to call down themajesty of the Gods, who speak through the lips of the dead, and I havelearnt whence these woes come. And this I have won by my prayers, thatye who suffer as I suffer shall learn whence they come, not from mymortal lips, indeed, but from the lips of the dead that speak with thevoice of the Gods. "

Then, while the women trembled, she turned to the body of Pharaoh, whichwas set upon the knees of Osiris, and spoke to it. 

"Dead Pharaoh! great Osirian, ruling in the Underworld, hearken to menow! Hearken to me now, thou Osiris, Lord of the West, first of thehosts of Death. Hearken to me, Osiris, and be manifest through the lipsof him who was great on earth. Speak through his cold lips, speak withmortal accents, that these people may hear and understand. By the spiritthat is in me, who am yet a dweller on the earth, I charge thee speak. Who is the source of the woes of Khem? Say, Lord of the dead, who arethe living evermore?"

Now the flame on the altar died away, and dreadful silence fell uponthe Temple, gloom fell upon the Shrine, and through the gloom the goldencrown of Meriamun, and the cold statue of the Osiris, and the white faceof dead Meneptah gleamed faint and ghost-like. 

Then suddenly the flame of the altar flared as flares the summerlightning. It flared full on the face of the dead, and lo! the lipsof the dead moved, and from them came the sound of mortal speech. Theyspake in awful accents, and thus they spoke:

"_She who was the curse of Achæans, she who was the doom of Ilios; shewho sits in the Temple of Hathor, the Fate of man, who may not be harmedof Man, she calls down the wrath of the Gods on Khem. It is spoken!_"

The echo of the awful words died away in the silence. Then fear tookhold of the multitude of women because of the words of the Dead, andsome fell upon their faces, and some covered their eyes with theirhands. 

"Arise, my sisters!" cried the voice of Meriamun. "Ye have heard notfrom my lips, but from the lips of the dead. Arise, and let us forth tothe Temple of the Hathor. Ye have heard who is the fountain of our woes;let us forth and seal it at its source for ever. Of men she may not beharmed who is the fate of men, from men we ask no help, for all men areher slaves, and for her beauty's sake all men forsake us. But we willplay the part of men. Our women's milk shall freeze within our breasts, we will dip our tender hands in blood, ay, scourged by a thousand wrongswe will forget our gentleness, and tear this foul fairness from itshome. We will burn the Hathor's Shrine with fire, her priests shallperish at the altar, and the beauty of the false Goddess shall melt likewax in the furnace of our hate. Say, will ye follow me, my sisters, andwreak our shames upon the Shameful One, our woes upon the Spring of Woe, our dead upon their murderess?"

She ceased, and then from every woman's throat within the great Templethere went up a cry of rage, fierce and shrill. 

"We will, Meriamun, we will!" they screamed. "To the Hathor! Lead usto the Hathor's Shrine! Bring fire! Bring fire! Lead us to the Hathor'sShrine!"

VI

THE BURNING OF THE SHRINE

Rei the Priest saw and heard. Then turning, he stole away through themaddened throng of women and fled with what speed he might from theTemple. His heart was filled with fear and shame, for he knew full wellthat Pharaoh was dead, not at the hand of Hathor, but at the hand ofMeriamun the Queen, whom he had loved. He knew well that dead Meneptahspake not with the voice of the dread Gods, but with the voice of themagic of Meriamun, who, of all women that have been since the days ofTaia, was the most skilled in evil magic, the lore of the Snake. He knewalso that Meriamun would slay Helen for the same cause wherefore she hadslain Pharaoh, that she might win the Wanderer to her arms. While Helenlived he was not to be won away. 

Now Rei was a righteous man, loving the Gods and good, and hating evil, and his heart burned because of the wickedness of the woman that once hecherished. This he swore that he would do, if time were left to him. Hewould warn the Helen so that she might fly the fire if so she willed, ay, and would tell her all the wickedness of Meriamun her foe. 

His old feet stumbled over each other as he fled till he came to thegates of the Temple of the Hathor, and knocked upon the gates. 

"What wouldst thou, old crone?" asked the priest who sat in the gates. 

"I would be led to the presence of the Hathor, " he answered. 

"No woman hath passed up to look upon the Hathor, " said the priest. "That women do not seek. "

Then Rei made a secret sign, and wondering greatly that a woman shouldhave the inner wisdom, the priest let him pass. 

He came to the second gates. 

"What wouldst thou?" said the priest who sat in the gates. 

"I would go up into the presence of the Hathor. "

"No woman hath willed to look upon the Hathor, " said the priest. 

Then again Rei made the secret sign, but still the priest wavered. 

"Let me pass, thou foolish warden, " said Rei. "I am a messenger from theGods. "

"If thou art a mortal messenger, woman, thou goest to thy doom, " saidthe priest. 

"On my head be it, " answered Rei, and the priest let him pass wondering. 

Now he stood before the doors of the Alabaster Shrine that glowed withthe light within. Still Rei paused not, only uttering a prayer that hemight be saved from the unseen swords; he lifted the latch of bronze, and entered fearfully. But none fell upon him, nor was he smitten ofinvisible spears. Before him swung the curtains of Tyrian web, but nosound of singing came from behind the curtains. All was silence in theShrine. He passed between the curtains and looked up the Sanctuary. Itwas lit with many hanging lamps, and by their light he saw the GoddessHelen, seated between the pillars of her loom. But she wove no more atthe loom. The web of fate was rent by the Wanderer's hands, and lay oneither side, a shining cloth of gold. The Goddess Helen sat songless inher lonely Shrine, and on her breast gleamed the Red Star of light thatwept the blood of men. Her head rested on her hand, and her heavenlyeyes of blue gazed emptily down the empty Shrine. 

Rei drew near trembling, though she seemed to see him not at all, and atlast flung himself upon the earth before her. Now at length she saw him, and spoke in her voice of music. 

"Who art thou that dares to break in upon my sorrow?" she saidwonderingly. "Art thou indeed a woman come to look on one who by thewill of the Gods is each woman's deadliest foe?"

Then Rei raised himself saying:

"No woman am I, immortal Lady. I am Rei, that aged priest who metthee two nights gone by the pylon gates, and led thee to the Palace ofPharaoh. And I have dared to seek thy Shrine to tell thee that thou artin danger at the hands of Meriamun the Queen, and also to give theea certain message with which I am charged by him who is named theWanderer. "

Now Helen looked upon him wonderingly and spoke:

"Didst thou not but now name me immortal, Rei? How then can I be indanger, who am immortal, and not to be harmed of men? Death hath nopart in me. Speak not to me of dangers, who, alas! can never die tilleverything is done; but tell me of that faithless Wanderer, whom I mustlove with all the womanhood that shuts my spirit in, and all my spiritthat is clothed in womanhood. For, Rei, the Gods, withholding Death, have in wrath cursed me with love to torment my deathlessness. Oh, whenI saw him standing where now thou standest, my soul knew its other part, and I learned that the curse I give to others had fallen on myself andhim. "

"Yet was this Wanderer not altogether faithless to thee, Lady, " saidRei. "Listen, and I will tell thee all. "

"Speak on, " she said. "Oh, speak, and speak swiftly. "

Then Rei told Helen all that tale which the Wanderer had charged him todeliver in her ear, and keep no word back. He told her how Meriamun hadbeguiled Eperitus in her shape; how he had fallen in the snare and swornby the Snake, he who should have sworn by the Star. He told her how theWanderer had learned the truth, and learning it, had cursed the witchwho wronged him; how he had been overcome by the guards and borne to thebed of torment; how he had been freed by the craft of Meriamun; andhow he had gone forth to lead the host of Khem. All this he told herswiftly, hiding naught, while she listened with eager ears. 

"Truly, " she said, when all was told, "truly thou art a happy messenger. Now I forgive him all. Yet has he sworn by the Snake who should havesworn by the Star, and because of his fault never in this space of lifeshall Helen call him Lord. Yet will we follow him, Rei. Hark! what isthat? Again it comes, that long shrill cry as of ghosts broke loose fromHades. "

"It is the Queen, " quoth Rei; "the Queen who with all women of Taniscomes hither to burn thee in thy Shrine. She hath slain Pharaoh, andnow she would slay thee also, and so win the Wanderer to her arms. Fly, Lady! Fly!"

"Nay, I fly not, " said Helen. "Let her come. But do thou, Rei, passthrough the Temple gates and mingle with the crowd. There thou shaltawait my coming, and when I come, draw near, fearing nothing; andtogether we will pass down the path of the Wanderer in such fashion asI shall show thee. Go! go swiftly, and bid those who minister to me passout with thee. "

Then Rei turned and fled. Without the doors of the Shrine many priestswere gathered. 

"Fly! the women of Tanis are upon you!" he cried. "I charge ye to fly!"

"This old crone is mad, " quoth one. "We watch the Hathor, and, come allthe women of the world, we fly not. "

"Ye are mad indeed, " said Rei, and sped on. 

He passed the gates, the gates clashed behind him. He won the outerspace, and hiding in the shadows of the Temple walls, looked forth. The night was dark, but from every side a thousand lights poured downtowards the Shrine. On they came like lanterns on the waters of Sihor atthe night of the feast of lanterns. Now he could see their host. It wasthe host of the women of Tanis, and every woman bore a lighted torch. They came by tens, by hundreds, and by thousands, and before them wasMeriamun, seated in a golden chariot, and with them were asses, oxen, and camels, laden with bitumen, wood, and reeds. Now they gained thegates, and now they crashed them in with battering trees of palm. Thegates fell, the women poured through them. At their head went Meriamunthe Queen. Bidding certain of them stay by her chariot she passedthrough, and standing at the inner gates called aloud to the priests tothrow them wide. 

"Who art thou who darest come up with fire against the holy Temple ofthe Hathor?" asked the guardian of the gates. 

"I am Meriamun, the Queen of Khem, " she answered, "come with the womenof Tanis to slay the Witch thou guardest. Throw the gates wide, or diewith the Witch. "

"If indeed thou art the Queen, " answered the priest, "here there sits agreater Queen than thou. Go back! Go back, Meriamun, who art not afraidto offer violence to the immortal Gods. Go back! lest the curse smitethee. "

"Draw on! draw on! ye women, " cried Meriamun; "draw on, smite down thegates, and tear these wicked ones limb from limb. "

Then the women screamed aloud and battered on the gates with trees, sothat they fell. They fell and the women rushed in madly. They seized thepriests of Hathor and tore them limb from limb as dogs tear a wolf. Nowthe Shrine stood before them. 

"Touch not the doors, " cried Meriamun. "Bring fire and burn the Shrinewith her who dwells therein. Touch not the doors, look not in theWitch's face, but burn her where she is with fire. "

Then the women brought the reeds and the wood, and piled them aroundthe Shrine to twice the height of a man. They brought ladders also, andpiled the fuel upon the roof of the Shrine till all was covered. Andthey poured pitch over the fuel, and then at the word of Meriamun theycast torches on the pitch and drew back screaming. For a moment thetorches smouldered, then suddenly on every side great tongues of flameleapt up to heaven. Now the Shrine was wrapped in fire, and yet theycast fuel on it till none might draw near because of the heat. Now itburned as a furnace burns, and now the fire reached the fuel on theroof. It caught, and the Shrine was but a sheet of raging flame thatlit the white-walled city, and the broad face of the waters, as the sunlights the lands. The alabaster walls of the Shrine turned whiter yetwith heat: they cracked and split till the fabric tottered to its fall. 

"Now there is surely an end of the Witch, " cried Meriamun, and the womenscreamed an answer to her. 

But even as they screamed a great tongue of flame shot out through themolten doors, ten fathoms length and more, it shot like a spear of fire. Full in its path stood a group of the burners. It struck them, it lickedthem up, and lo! they fell in blackened heaps upon the ground. 

Rei looked down the path of the flame. There, in the doorway whence ithad issued, stood the Golden Hathor, wrapped round with fire, and themolten metal of the doors crept about her feet. There she stood in theheart of the fire, but there was no stain of fire on her, nor on herwhite robes, nor on her streaming hair; and even through the glow of thefurnace he saw the light of the Red Star at her breast. The flame lickedher form and face, it wrapped itself around her, and curled throughthe masses of her hair. But still she stood unharmed, while the burnersshrank back amazed, all save Meriamun the Queen. And as she stood shesang wild and sweet, and the sound of her singing came through the roarof the flames and reached the ears of the women, who, forgetting theirrage, clung to one another in fear. Thus she sang--of that Beauty whichmen seek in all women, and never find, and of the eternal war for hersake between the women and the men, which is the great war of the world. And thus her song ended:

 "Will ye bring flame to burn my Shrine Who am myself a flame, Bring death to tame this charm of mine That death can never tame? Will ye bring fire to harm my head Who am myself a fire, Bring vengeance for your Lovers dead Upon the World's Desire?

 Nay, women while the earth endures, Your loves are not your own. They love you not, these loves of yours, _Helen_ they love alone! My face they seek in every face, Mine eyes in yours they see, They do but kneel to you a space, And rise and follow _me!_"

Then, still singing, she stepped forward from the Shrine, and as shewent the walls fell in, and the roof crashed down upon the ruin and theflames shot up into the very sky. Helen heeded it not. She lookednot back, but out to the gates beyond. She glanced not at the fierceblackened faces of the women, nor on the face of Meriamun, who stoodbefore her, but slowly passed towards the gates. Nor did she go alone, for with her came a canopy of fire, hedging her round with flame thatburned from nothing. The women saw the wonder and fell down in theirfear, covering their eyes. Meriamun alone fell not, but she too mustcover her eyes because of the glory of Helen and the fierceness of theflame that wrapped her round. 

Now Helen ceased singing, but moved slowly through the courts till shecame to the outer gates. Here by the gates was the chariot of Meriamun. Then Helen called aloud, and the Queen, who followed, heard her words:

"Rei, " she cried, "draw nigh and have no fear. Draw nigh that I maypass with thee down that path the Wanderer treads. Draw nigh, and let usswiftly hence, for the hero's last battle is at hand, and I would greethim ere he die. "

Rei heard her and drew near trembling, tearing from him the woman'sweeds he wore, and showing the priest's garb beneath. And as he camethe fire that wrapped her glory round left her, and passed upward like acloak of flame. She stretched out her hand to him, saying:

"Lead me to yonder chariot, Rei, and let us hence. "

Then he led her to the chariot, while those who stood by fled in fear. She mounted the chariot, and he set himself beside her. Then he graspedthe reins and called to the horses, and they bounded forward and werelost in the night. 

But Meriamun cried in her wrath:

"The Witch is gone, gone with my own servant whom she hath led astray. Bring chariots, and let horsemen come with the chariots, for where shepasses there I will follow, ay, to the end of the world and the coast ofDeath. "

VII

THE LAST FIGHT OF ODYSSEUS, LAERTES' SON

Now the host of Pharaoh marched forth from On, to do battle with theNine-bow barbarians. And before the host marched, the Captains came tothe Wanderer, according to the command of Pharaoh, and placing theirhands in his, swore to do his bidding on the march and in the battle. They brought him the great black bow of Eurytus, and his keen swordof bronze, Euryalus' gift, and many a sheaf of arrows, and his heartrejoiced when he saw the goodly weapon. He took the bow and tried it, and as he drew the string, once again and for the last time it sangshrilly of death to be. The Captains heard the Song of the Bow, thoughwhat it said the Wanderer knew alone, for to their ears it came but asa faint, keen cry, like the cry of one who drowns in the water far fromthe kindly earth. But they marvelled much at the wonder, and said oneto another that this man was no mortal, but a God come from theUnder-world. 

Then the Wanderer mounted the chariot of bronze that had been made readyfor him, and gave the word to march. 

All night the host marched swiftly, and at day-break they camped beneaththe shelter of a long, low hill. But at the sunrise the Wanderer leftthe host, climbed the hill with certain of the Captains, and lookedforth. Before him was a great pass in the mountains, ten furlongs ormore in length, and through it ran the road. The sides of the mountainsloped down to the road, and were strewn with rocks split by the sun, polished by the sand, and covered over with bush that grew sparsely, like the hair on the limbs of a man. To the left of the mountains laythe river Sihor, but none might pass between the mountain and the river. The Wanderer descended from the hill, and while the soldiers ate, droveswiftly in his chariot to the further end of the pass and looked forthagain. Here the river curved to the left, leaving a wide plain, and onthe plain he saw the host of the Nine-bow barbarians, the mightiest hostthat ever his eyes had looked upon. They were encamped by nations, andof each nation there was twenty thousand men, and beyond the glitteringcamp of the barbarians he saw the curved ships of the Achæans. They weredrawn up on the beach of the great river, as many a year ago he had seenthem drawn up on the shore that is by Ilios. He looked upon plain andpass, on mountain and river, and measured the number of the foe. Thenhis heart was filled with the lust of battle, and his warlike cunningawoke. For of all leaders he was the most skilled in the craft ofbattle, and he desired that this, his last war, should be the greatestwar of all. 

Turning his horses' heads, he galloped back to the host of Pharaoh andmustered them in battle array. It was but a little number as againstthe number of the barbarians--twelve thousand spearmen, nine thousandarchers, two thousand horsemen, and three hundred chariots. The Wandererpassed up and down their ranks, bidding them be of good courage, forthis day they should sweep the barbarians from the land. 

As he spoke a hawk flew down from the right, and fell on a heron, andslew it in mid-air. The host shouted, for the hawk is the Holy Bird ofRa, and the Wanderer, too, rejoiced in the omen. "Look, men, " he cried;"the Bird of Ra has slain the wandering thief from the waters. And soshall ye smite the spoilers from the sea. "

Then he held counsel with Captains, and certain trusty men were sentout to the camp of the barbarians. And they were charged to give an illreport of the host of Pharaoh, and to say that such of it as remainedawaited the barbarian onset behind the shelter of the hill on thefurther side of the pass. 

Then the Wanderer summoned the Captains of the archers, and bade themhide all their force among the rocks and thorns on either side of themountain pass, and there to wait till he drew the hosts of the foe intothe pass. And with the archers he sent a part of the spearmen, but thechariots he hid beneath the shelter of the hill on the hither side ofthe pass. 

Now, when the ambush was set, and all were gone save the horsemen only, his spies came in and told him that the host of the barbarians marchedfrom their camp, but that the Achæans marched not, but stopped by theriver to guard the camp and ships. Then the Wanderer bade the horsemenride through the pass and stand in the plain beyond, and there await thefoe. But when the hosts of the barbarians charged them, they must reelbefore the charge, and at length fly headlong down the pass as though infear. And he himself would lead the flight in his chariot, and where heled there they should follow. 

So the horsemen rode through the pass and formed their squadrons on theplain beyond. Now the foe drew nigh, and a glorious sight it was to seethe midday sun sparkling on their countless spears. Of horsemen theyhad no great number, but there were many chariots and swordsmen, andspearmen, and slingers beyond count. They came on by nations, and inthe centre of the host of each nation sat the king of the nation in aglorious chariot, with girls and eunuchs, holding fans to fan him withand awnings of silk to hide him from the sun. 

Now the Wanderer hung back behind the squadrons of horsemen as thoughin fear. But presently he sent messengers bidding the Captains of thesquadrons to charge the first nation, and fight for a while but feebly, and then when they saw him turn his horses and gallop through the pass, to follow after him as though in doubt, but in such fashion as to drawthe foe upon their heels. 

This the Captains of the mercenaries did. Once they charged and werebeaten back, then they charged again, but the men made as though theyfeared the onset. Now the foe came hard after them, and the Wandererturned his chariot and fled through the pass, followed slowly by thehorsemen. And when the hosts of the barbarians saw them turn, they setup a mighty shout of laughter that rent the skies, and charged afterthem. 

But the Wanderer looked back and laughed also. Now he was through thepass followed by the horsemen, and after them swept the hosts of thebarbarians, like a river that has burst its banks. Still the Wandererheld his hand till the whole pass was choked with the thousands of thefoe, ay, until the half of the first of the nations had passed into thenarrow plain that lay between the hill and the mouth of the pass. Then, driving apace up the hill, he stood in his chariot and gave the signal. Lifting his golden shield on high he flashed it thrice, and all thehorsemen shouted aloud. At the first flash, behold, from behind everyrock and bush of the mountain sides arose the helms of armed men. At thesecond flash there came a rattling sound of shaken quivers, and at thethird flash of the golden shield, the air was darkened with the flightof arrows. As the sea-birds on a lonely isle awake at the cry of thesailor, and wheel by thousands from their lofty cliffs, so at the thirdflash of the Wanderer's shield the arrows of his hidden host rusheddownward on the foe, rattling like hail upon the harness. For awhilethey kept their ranks, and pressed on over the bodies of those thatfell. But soon the horses in the chariots, maddened with wounds, plungedthis way and that, breaking their companies and trampling the soldiersdown. Now some strove to fly forward, and some were fain to fly back, and many an empty chariot was dragged this way and that, but ever thepitiless rain of shafts poured down, and men fell by thousands beneaththe gale of death. Now the mighty host of the Nine-bows rolled back, thinned and shattered, towards the plain, and now the Wanderer cried theword of onset to the horsemen and to the chariots that drew from behindthe shelter of the hill, and following after him they charged down uponthose barbarians who had passed the ambush, singing the song of Pentauras they charged. Among those nigh the mouth of the pass was the kingof the nation of the Libu, a great man, black and terrible to see. TheWanderer drew his bow, the arrow rushed forth and pierced the king, and he fell dead in his chariot. Then those of his host who passed theambush turned to fly, but the chariot of the Wanderer dashed into them, and after the chariot came the horsemen, and after the horsemen thechariots of Pharaoh. 

Now all who were left of the broken host rolled back, mad with fear, while the spearmen of Pharaoh galled them as hunters gall a flyingbull, and the horsemen of Pharaoh trampled them beneath their feet. Redslaughter raged all down the pass, helms, banners, arrow-points shoneand fell in the stream of the tide of war, but at length the stony waywas clear save for the dead alone. Beyond the pass the plain was blackwith flying men, and the fragments of the broken nations were mixedtogether as clay and sand are mixed of the potter. Where now were thehosts of the Nine-bow barbarians? Where now were their glory and theirpride?

The Wanderer gathered his footmen and his chariots and set them in arrayagain but the horsemen he sent out to smite the flying nations and waithis coming by the camp; for there were mustering those who were left ofthe nations, perchance twenty thousand men, and before their ships wereranged the dense ranks of the Achæans, shield to shield, every man inhis place. 

The Wanderer led his host slowly across the sandy plain, till at lengthhe halted it two bow-shots from the camp of the barbarians. The camp wasshaped like a bow, and the river Sihor formed its string, and round itwas a deep ditch and beyond the ditch a wall of clay. Moreover, withinthe camp and nearer to the shore there was a second ditch and wall, andbehind it were the beaks of the ships and the host of Aquaiusha, evenof his own dear people the Achæans. There were the old blazons, andthe spears that had fought below Troy town. There were the two lions ofMycenæ, the Centaur of the son of Polypaetas, son of Pirithous; therewere the Swan of Lacedæmon, and the Bull of the Kings of Crete, the Roseof Rhodes, the Serpent of Athens, and many another knightly bearing ofold friends and kindred dear. And now they were the blazons of foemen, and the Wanderer warred for a strange king, and for his own hand, beneath the wings of the Hawk of the Legion of Ra. 

The Wanderer sent heralds forward, calling to those barbarians whoswarmed behind the wall to surrender to the host of Pharaoh, but this, being entrenched by the river Sihor, they would in nowise do. For theywere mad because of their slaughtered thousands, and moreover they knewthat it is better to die than to live as slaves. This they saw also, that their host was still as strong as the host of Pharaoh, which waswithout the wall, and weary with the heat and stress of battle and thetoil of marching through the desert sands. Now the Captains of the hostof Pharaoh came to the Wanderer, praying him that he would do no morebattle on that day, because the men were weary, and the horses neighedfor food and water. 

But he answered them: "I swore to Pharaoh that I would utterly smite thepeople of the Nine-bows and drive them down to death, so that the coastsof Khem may be free of them. Here I may not camp the host, without foodor pasture for the horses, and if I go back, the foe will gather heartand come on, and with them the fleet of the Achæans, and no more shallwe lure them into ambush, for therein they have learned a lesson. Nay, get you to your companies. I will go up against the camp. "

Then they bowed and went, for having seen his deeds and his skill andcraft in war, they held him the first of Captains, and dared not say himnay. 

So the Wanderer divided his host into three parts, set it in order ofbattle, and moved up against the camp. But he himself went with thecentre part against the gate of the camp, for here there was an earthenway for chariots, if but the great gates might be passed. And at a wordthe threefold host rushed on to the charge. But those within the wallsshot them with spears and arrows, so that many were slain, and they wererolled back from the wall as a wave is rolled from the cliff. Again theWanderer bade them charge on the right and left, bearing the dead beforethem as shields, and hurling corpses into the ditch to fill it. But hehimself hung back awhile with the middle army, watching how the battlewent, and waiting till the foe at the gate should be drawn away. 

Now the mercenaries of Pharaoh forced a passage on the right and thitherwent many of the barbarians who watched the gate, that they might drivethem back. 

Then the Wanderer bade men take out the poles of chariots and followhim and beat down the gates with the poles. This with much toil and lossthey did, for the archers poured their arrows on the assailants of thegate. Now at length the gates were down, and the Wanderer rushed throughthem with his chariot. But even as he passed the mercenaries of Pharaohwere driven out from the camp on the right, and those who led the leftattack fled also. The soldiers who should have followed the Wanderer sawand wavered a little moment, and while they wavered the companies of thebarbarians poured into the gateway and held it so that none might pass. Now the Wanderer was left alone within the camp, and back he might notgo. But fear came not nigh him, nay, the joy of battle filled his mightyheart. He cast his shield upon the brazen floor of the chariot, andcried aloud to the charioteer, as he loosened the long grey shafts inhis quiver. 

"Drive on, thou charioteer! Drive on! The jackals leave the lion in thetoils. Drive on! Drive on! and win a glorious death, for thus shouldOdysseus die. "

So the charioteer, praying to his Gods, lashed the horses with hisscourge, and they sprang forward madly among the foe. And as theyrushed, the great bow rang and sang the swallow string--rung the bow andsung the string, and the lean shaft drank the blood of a leader of men. Again the string sang, again the shaft sped forth, and a barbarian kingfell from his chariot as a diver plunges into the sea, and his teeth bitthe sand. 

"Dive deep, thou sea-thief!" cried the Wanderer, "thou mayest findtreasures there! Drive on, thou charioteer, so should lions die whilejackals watch. "

Now the barbarians looked on the Wanderer and were amazed. For ever hischariot rushed to and fro, across the mustering ground of the camp, andever his grey shafts carried death before them, and ever the foemen'sarrows fell blunted from his golden harness. They looked on him amazed, they cried aloud that this was the God of War come down to do battle forKhem, that it was Sutek the Splendid, that it was Baal in his strength;they fled amain before his glory and his might. For the Wanderer ragedamong them like great Rameses Miamun among the tribes of the Khita; likeMonthu, the Lord of Battles, and lo! they fled before him, their kneesgave way, their hearts were turned to water, he drove them as a herdsmandrives the yearling calves. 

But now at length a stone from a sling smote the charioteer who directedthe chariot, and sunk in between his eyes, so that he fell down deadfrom the chariot. Then the reins flew wide, and the horses rushed thisway and that, having no master. And now a spear pierced the heart of thehorse on the right, so that he fell, and the pole of the chariot snappedin two. Then the barbarians took heart and turned, and some of themset on to seize the body of the charioteer, and spoil his arms. But theWanderer leaped down and bestrode the corpse with shield up and spearaloft. 

Now among the press of the barbarians there was a stir, as of onethrusting his way through them to the front. And above the plumes oftheir helmets and the tossing of their shields the Wanderer saw thegolden head, unhelmeted, of a man, taller than the tallest there fromthe shoulders upwards. Unhelmeted he came and unshielded, with nobody armour. His flesh was very fair and white, and on it were figurespricked in blue, figures of men and horses, snakes and sea-beasts. Theskin of a white bear was buckled above his shoulder with a golden clasp, fashioned in the semblance of a boar. His eyes were blue, fierce andshining, and in his hand he held for a weapon the trunk of a youngpine-tree, in which was hafted a weighty axe-head of rough unpolishedstone. 

"Give way!" he cried. "Give place, ye dusky dwarfs, and let a man seethis champion!"

So the barbarians made a circle about the Wanderer and the giant, andstood silently to watch a great fight. 

"Who art thou?" said the mighty man disdainfully, "and whence? Where isthy city, and thy parents who begat thee?"

"Now I will avow that men call me Odysseus, Sacker of Cities, Laertes'son, a Prince of the Achæans, " said the Wanderer. "And who art thou, I pray thee, and where is thy native place, for city, I wot, thou hastnone?"

Then the mighty man, swinging his great stone axe in a rhythmic motion, began to chant a rude lay, and this was the manner of the singing--

 "Laestrygons men And Cimmerians call us Born of the land Of the sunless winter, Born of the land Of the nightless summer: Cityless, we, Beneath dark pine boughs, By the sea abiding Sail o'er the swan's bath. _Wolf_ am I hight, The son of Signy, Son of the were-wolf. Southwards I sailed, Sailed with the amber, Sailed with the foam-wealth. Among strange peoples, Winning me wave-flame, [*] Winning me war-fame, Winning me women. Soon shall I slay thee, Sacker of Cities!"

 [*] Gold. 

With that, and with a cry, he rushed on the Wanderer, his great axeswung aloft, to fell him at a blow. 

But while the giant had been singing, the Wanderer had shifted his placea little, so that the red blaze of the setting sun was in his face. Andas the mighty man came on, the Wanderer lifted up his golden shield andcaught the sunlight on it, and flashed it full in the giant's eyes, so that he was dazzled, and could not see to strike. Then the Wanderersmote at his naked right arm, and struck it on the joint of the elbow;with all his force he smote, and the short sword of Euryalus bit deep, and the arm fell, with the axe in the hand-grip. But so terrible was thestroke that bronze might not abide it, and the blade was shattered fromthe ivory handle. 

"Didst thou feel aught, thou Man-eater?" cried Odysseus, jeering, for heknew from the song of the giant that he was face to face with a wandererfrom an evil race, that of old had smitten his ships and devoured hismen--the Laestrygons of the land of the Midnight Sun, the Man-eaters. 

But the giant caught up his club of pine-tree in his left hand, thesevered right arm still clinging to it. And he gnawed on the handleof the stone axe with his teeth, and bit the very stone, and his lipsfoamed, for a fury came upon him. Roaring aloud, suddenly he smote atthe Wanderer's head, and beat down his shield, and crushed his goldenhelm so that he fell on one knee, and all was darkness around him. Buthis hands lit on a great stone, for the place where they fought was theholy place of an ancient temple, old and ruined before King Mena's day. He grasped the stone with both hands; it was the basalt head of a fallenstatue of a God or a man, of a king long nameless, or of a forgottenGod. With a mighty strain the Wanderer lifted it as he rose, it was aweight of a chariot's burden, and poising it, he hurled it straightat the breast of the Laestrygon, who had drawn back, whirling his axe, before he smote another blow. But ere ever the stroke fell, the hugestone struck him full and broke in his breast bone, and he staggeredlong, and fell like a tree, and the black blood came up through hisbearded lips, and his life left him. 

Then the multitude of the barbarians that stood gazing at the fray drewyet further back in fear, and the Wanderer laughed like a God atthat old score paid, and at the last great stroke of the hands of theCity-sacker, Odysseus. 

VIII

"TILL ODYSSEUS COMES!"

The Wanderer laughed like a God, though he deemed that the end was near, and the foes within the camp and the friends without looked on him andwondered. 

"Slay him!" cried the foes within, speaking in many tongues. "Slay him!"they cried, and yet they feared the task, but circled round like houndsabout a mighty boar at bay. 

"Spare him!" shouted the host of the Achæans, watching the fray fromfar, as they stood behind their inner wall, for as yet they had notmingled in the battle but stayed by their ships to guard them. 

"Rescue!" cried the Captains of Pharaoh without, but none came on toforce the way. 

Then of a sudden, as Fate hung upon the turn, a great cry of fear andwonder rose from the ranks of Pharaoh's host beyond the wall. It swelledand swelled till at length the cry took the sound of a name--the soundof the name of _Hathor_. 

"The Hathor! the Hathor! See, the Hathor comes!"

The Wanderer turned his head and looked swiftly. A golden chariot speddown the slope of sand towards the gate of the camp. The milk-whitehorses were stained with sweat and splashed with blood. They thunderedon towards the gate down the way that was red with blood, as the horsesof the dawn rush through the blood-red sky. A little man, withered andold, drove the chariot, leaning forward as he drove, and by his sidestood the Golden Helen. The Red Star blazed upon her breast, her hairand filmy robes floated on the wind. 

She looked up and forth. Now she saw him, Odysseus of Ithaca, her love, alone, beset with foes, and a cry broke from her. She tore away the veilthat hid her face, and her beauty flashed out upon the sight of men asthe moon flashes from the evening mists. She pointed to the gate, shestretched out her arms towards the host of Pharaoh, bidding them lookupon her and follow her. Then a shout went up from the host, and theyrushed onwards in the path of the chariot, for where the Helen leadsthere men must follow through Life to Death through War to Peace. 

On the chariot rushed to the camp, and after it the host of Pharaohfollowed. The holders of the gate saw the beauty of her who rode in thechariot; they cried aloud in many tongues that the Goddess of Lovehad come to save the God of War. They fled this way and that, or stooddrunken with the sight of beauty, and were dashed down by the horses andcrushed of the chariot wheels. Now she had passed the gates, and afterher poured the host of Pharaoh. Now Rei reined up the horses by thebroken chariot of the Wanderer, and now the Wanderer, with a shout ofjoy, had sprung into the chariot of Helen. 

"And art thou come to be with me in my last battle?" he whispered in herear. "Art thou indeed that Argive Helen whom I love, or am I drunk withthe blood of men and blind with the sheen of spears, and is this thevision of a man doomed to die?"

"It is no vision, Odysseus, for I am Helen's self, " she answered gently. "I have learned all the truth, and knowing thy fault, count it but alittle thing. Yet because thou didst forget the words of the immortalGoddess, who, being my foe now and for ever, set this cunning snare forthee, the doom is on thee, that Helen shall not be thine in this spaceof life. For thou fightest in thy last battle, Odysseus. On! see thyhosts clamour to be led, and there the foe hangs black as storm andshoots out the lightning of his spears. On, Odysseus, on! that the doommay be accomplished, and the word of the Ghost fulfilled!"

Then the Wanderer turned and called to the Captains, and the Captainscalled to the soldiers and set them in array, and following theblood-red Star they rolled down upon the gathered foe as the tide rollsupon the rocks when the breath of the gale is strong; and as the watersleap and gather till the rocks are lost in the surge, so the hostof Pharaoh leapt upon the foe and swallowed them up. And ever in theforefront of the war blazed the Red Star on Helen's breast, and ever thesound of her singing pierced the din of death. 

Now the host of the Nine-bow barbarians was utterly destroyed, and thehost of Pharaoh came up against the wall that was set about the campof the Achæans to guard their ships, and at its head came the goldenchariot wherein were the Wanderer and Helen. The Captains of the Achæanslooked wondering from their wall, watching the slaughter of theirallies. 

"Now, who is this?" cried a Captain, "who is this clad in golden armourfashioned like our own, who leads the host of Pharaoh to victory?"

Then a certain aged leader of men looked forth and answered:

"Such armour I have known indeed, and such a man once wore it. Thearmour is fashioned like the armour of Paris, Priam's son--Paris ofIlios; but Paris hath long been dead. "

"And who is she, " cried the Captain, "she on whose breast a Red Starburns, who rides in the chariot of him with the golden armour, whoseshape is the shape of Beauty, and who sings aloud while men go down todeath?"

Then the aged leader of men looked forth again and answered:

"Such a one have I known, indeed; so she was wont to sing, and hers wassuch a shape of beauty, and such a Star shone ever on her breast. Helenof Ilios--Argive Helen it was who wore it--Helen, because of whoseloveliness the world grew dark with death; but long is Helen dead. "

Now the Wanderer glanced from his chariot and saw the crests of theAchæans and the devices on the shields of men with whose fathers hehad fought beneath the walls of Ilios. He saw and his heart was stirredwithin him, so that he wept there in the chariot. 

"Alas! for the fate that is on me, " he cried, "that I must make mylast battle in the service of a stranger against my own people and thechildren of my own dear friends. "

"Weep not, Odysseus, " said Helen, "for Fate drives thee on--Fate that iscruel and changeless, and heeds not the loves or hates of men. Weepnot, Odysseys, but go on up against the Achæans, for from among them thydeath comes. "

So the Wanderer went on, sick at heart, shooting no shafts and strikingno blow, and after him came the remnant of the host of Pharaoh. Thenhe halted the host, and at his bidding Rei drove slowly down the wallseeking a place to storm it, and as he drove they shot at the chariotfrom the wall with spears and slings and arrows. But not yet was theWanderer doomed. He took no hurt, nor did any hurt come to Rei nor tothe horses that drew the chariot, and as for Helen, the shafts ofDeath knew her and turned aside. Now while they drove thus Rei toldthe Wanderer of the death of Pharaoh, of the burning of the Temple ofHathor, and of the flight of Helen. The Wanderer hearkened and said butone thing, for in all this he saw the hand of Fate. 

"It is time to make an end, Rei, for soon will Meriamun be seekingus, and methinks that I have left a trail that she can follow, " and henodded at the piled-up dead that stretched further than the eye couldreach. 

Now they were come over against that spot in the wall where stood theaged Captain of the Achæans, who had likened the armour of the Wandererto the armour of Paris, and the beauty of her at his side to the beautyof Argive Helen. 

The Captain loosed his bow at the chariot, and leaning forward watchedthe flight of the shaft. It rushed straight at Helen's breast, then of asudden turned aside, harming her not. And as he marvelled she liftedher face and looked towards him. Then he saw and knew her for that Helenwhom he had seen while he served with Cretan Idomeneus in the Argiveships, when the leaguer was done and the smoke went up from burningIlios. 

Again he looked, and lo! on the Wanderer's golden shield he saw theWhite Bull, the device of Paris, son of Priam, as ofttimes he had seenit glitter on the walls of Troy. Then great fear took him, and he liftedup his hands and cried aloud:

"Fly, ye Achæans! Fly! Back to your curved ships and away from thisaccursed land. For yonder in the chariot stands Argive Helen, who islong dead, and with her Paris, son of Priam, come to wreak the woesof Ilios on the sons of those who wasted her. Fly, ere the curse smiteyou. "

Then a great cry of fear rose from the host of the Achæans, as companycalled to company that the ghosts of Paris of Ilios and Argive Helen ledthe armies of Pharaoh on to victory. A moment they gazed as frightenedsheep gaze upon the creeping wolves, then turning from the wall, theyrushed headlong to their ships. 

Behind them came the soldiers of Pharaoh, storming the walls and tearingat their flanks as wolves tear the flying sheep. Then the Achæans turnedat bay, and a mighty fray raged round the ships, and the knees of manywere loosened. And of the ships, some were burned and some were leftupon the bank. But a remnant of them were pushed off into the deepwater, and hung there on their oars waiting for the end of the fray. 

Now the sun was gone down, so that men could scarce see to slay eachother. The Wanderer stood his chariot on the bank, watching the battle, for he was weary, and had little mind to swell the slaughter of thepeople of his own land. 

Now the last ship was pushed off, and at length the great battlewas done. But among those on the ship was a man still young, and thegoodliest and mightiest among all the host of the Achæans. By his ownstrength and valour he had held the Egyptians back while his comradesran the curved ship down the beach, and the Wanderer, looking on him, deemed him their hardiest warrior and most worthy of the Achæans. 

He stood upon the poop of the ship, and saw the light from the burningvessels gleam on the Wanderer's golden helm. Then of a sudden he drew amighty bow and loosed an arrow charged with death. 

"This gift to the Ghost of Paris from Telegonus, son of Circe and ofOdysseus, who was Paris' foe, " he cried with a loud voice. 

And as he cried it, and as the fateful words struck on the ears ofOdysseus and the ears of Helen, the shaft, pointed by the Gods, rushedon. It rushed on, it smote the Wanderer with a deadly wound where thegolden body-plate of his harness joined the taslets, and pierced himthrough. Then he knew that his fate was accomplished, and that deathcame upon him from the water, as the ghost of Tiresias in Hades hadforetold. In his pain, for the last time of all, he let fall his shieldand the black bow of Eurytus. With one hand he clasped the rail of thechariot and the other he threw about the neck of the Golden Helen, whobent beneath his weight like a lily before the storm. Then he also criedaloud in answer:

"Oh, Telegonus, son of Circe, what wickedness hast thou wrought beforethe awful Gods that this curse should have been laid upon thee to slayhim who begat thee? Hearken, thou son of Circe, I am not Paris, I amOdysseus of Ithaca, who begat thee, and thou hast brought my death uponme from the water, as the Ghost foretold. "

When Telegonus heard these words, and knew that he had slain his father, the famed Odysseus, whom he had sought the whole world through, he wouldhave cast himself into the river, there to drown, but those with himheld him by strength, and the stream took the curved ship and floatedit away. And thus for the first and last time did the Gods give itto Telegonus to look upon the face and hear the voice of his father, Odysseus. 

But when the Achæans knew that it was the lost Odysseus who had led thehost of Pharaoh against the armies of the Nine Nations, they wonderedno more at the skill of the ambush and the greatness of the victory ofPharaoh. 

Now the chariots of Meriamun were pursuing, and they splashed throughthe blood of men in the pass, and rolled over the bodies of men in theplain beyond the pass. They came to the camps and found them peopledwith dead, and lit with the lamps of the blazing ships of the Aquaiusha. Then Meriamun cried aloud:

"Surely Pharaoh grew wise before he died, for there is but one man onthe earth who with so small a force could have won so great a fray. Hehath saved the crown of Khem, and by Osiris he shall wear it. "

Now the chariots of Meriamun had passed the camp of the barbarians, andwere come to the inner camp of the Achæans, and the soldiers shouted asshe came driving furiously. 

The Wanderer lay dying on the ground, there by the river-bank, and thelight of the burning ships flamed on his golden armour, and on the Starat Helen's breast. 

"Why do the soldiers shout?" he asked, lifting his head from Helen'sbreast. 

"They shout because Meriamun the Queen is come, " Rei answered. 

"Let her come, " said the Wanderer. 

Now Meriamun sprang from her chariot and walked, through the soldierswho made way, bowing before her royalty, to where the Wanderer lay, andstood speechless looking on him. 

But the Wanderer lifting his head spake faintly:

"Hail! O Queen!" he said, "I have accomplished the charge that Pharaohlaid upon me. The host of the Nine-bow barbarians is utterly destroyed, the fleet of the Aquaiusha is burned, or fled, the land of Khem is freefrom foes. Where is Pharaoh, that I may make report to him ere I die?"

"Pharaoh is dead, Odysseus, " she answered. "Oh, live on! live on! andthyself thou shalt be Pharaoh. "

"Ay, Meriamun the Queen, " answered the Wanderer, "I know all. ThePharaoh is dead! Thou didst slay Pharaoh, thinking thus to win me forthy Lord, me, who am won of Death. Heavily shall the blood of Pharaohlie upon thee in that land whither I go, Meriamun, and whither thoumust follow swiftly. Thou didst slay Pharaoh, and Helen, who through thyguile is lost to me, thou wouldst have slain also, but thou couldst notharm her immortality. And now I die, and this is the end of all theseLoves and Wars and Wanderings. My death has come upon me from thewater. "

Meriamun stood speechless, for her heart was torn in two, so that in hergrief she forgot even her rage against Helen and Rei the Priest. 

Then Helen spoke. "Thou diest indeed, Odysseus, yet it is but for alittle time, for thou shalt come again and find me waiting. "

"Ay, Odysseus, " said the Queen, "and I also will come again, and thoushalt love me then. Oh, now the future opens, and I know the things thatare to be. Beneath the Wings of Truth shall we meet again, Odysseus. "

"There shall we meet again, Odysseus, and there thou shalt draw the Veilof Truth, " said the Helen. 

"Yea, " quoth the dying Wanderer; "there or otherwhere shall we meetagain, and there and otherwhere love and hate shall lose and win, anddie to arise again. But not yet is the struggle ended that began inother worlds than this, and shall endure till evil is lost in good, anddarkness swallowed up in light. Bethink thee, Meriamun, of that visionof thy bridal night, and read its riddle. Lo! I will answer it with mylast breath as the Gods have given me wisdom. When we three are oncemore twain, then shall our sin be purged and peace be won, and theveil be drawn from the face of Truth. Oh, Helen, fare thee well! I havesinned against thee, I have sworn by the Snake who should have sworn bythe Star, and therefore I have lost thee. "

"Thou hast but lost to find again beyond the Gateways of the West, " sheanswered low. 

Then she bent down, and taking him in her arms, kissed him, whisperingin his ear, and the blood of men that fell ever from the Star upon herbreast, dropped like dew upon his brow, and vanished as it dropped. 

And as she whispered of joy to be, and things too holy to be written, the face of the Wanderer grew bright, like the face of a God. 

Then suddenly his head fell back, and he was dead, dead upon the heartof the World's Desire. For thus was fulfilled the oath of IdalianAphrodite, and thus at the last did Odysseus lie in the arms of theGolden Helen. 

Now Meriamun clasped her breast, and her lips turned white with pain. But Helen rose, and standing at the Wanderer's head looked on Meriamun, who stood at his feet. 

"My sister, " said Helen to the Queen; "see now the end of all. He whomwe loved is lost to us, and what hast thou gained? Nay, look not sofiercely on me. I may not be harmed of thee, as thou hast seen, and thoumayest not be harmed of me, who would harm none, though ever thou wilthate me who hate thee not, and till thou learnest to love me, Sin shallbe thy portion and Bitterness thy comfort. "

But Meriamun spoke no word. 

Then Helen beckoned to Rei and spake to him, and Rei went weeping to doher bidding. 

Presently he returned again, and with him were soldiers bearing torches. The soldiers lifted up the body of the Wanderer, and bore it to a mightypyre that was built up of the wealth of the barbarians, of chariots, spears, and the oars of ships, of wondrous fabrics, and costlyfurniture. And they laid the Wanderer on the pyre, and on his breastthey laid the black bow of Eurytus. 

Then Helen spoke to Rei once more, and Rei took a torch and fired thepyre so that smoke and flame burst from it. And all the while Meriamunstood by as one who dreams. 

Now the great pyre was a mass of flame, and the golden armour of theWanderer shone through the flame, and the black bow twisted and crumbledin the heat. Then of a sudden Meriamun gave a great cry, and tearing thesnake girdle from her middle hurled it on the flames. 

"From fire thou camest, thou Ancient Evil, " she said in a dead tongue;"to fire get thee back again, false counsellor. "

But Rei the Priest called aloud in the same tongue:

"An ill deed thou hast done, O Queen, for thou hast taken the Snake tothy bosom, and where the Snake passes there thou must follow. "

Even as he spoke the face of Meriamun grew fixed, and she was drawnslowly towards the fire, as though by invisible hands. Now she stood onits very brink, and now with one loud wail she plunged into it and castherself at length on the body of the Wanderer. 

And as she lay there on the body, behold the Snake awoke in the fire. Itawoke, it grew, it twined itself about the body of Meriamun and the bodyof the Wanderer, and lifting its head, it laughed. 

Then the fire fell in, and the Wanderer and Meriamun the Queen, and theSnake that wrapped them round, vanished in the heart of the flames. 

For awhile the Golden Helen stood still, looking on the dying fire. Thenshe let her veil fall, and turning, wandered forth into the desert andthe night, singing as she passed. 

And so she goes, wandering, wandering, till Odysseus comes again. 

Now this is the tale that I, Rei the Priest, have been bidden to setforth before I lay me down to sleep in my splendid tomb that I have madeready by Thebes. Let every man read it as he will, and every woman asthe Gods have given her wit. 

PALINODE

Thou that of old didst blind Stesichorus, If e'er, sweet Helen, such athing befell, We pray thee of thy grace, be good to us, Though littlein our tale accordeth well With that thine ancient minstrel had to tell, Who saw, with sightless eyes grown luminous, These Ilian sorrows, andwho heard the swell Of ocean round the world ring thunderous, And thyvoice break when knightly Hector fell!

And thou who all these many years hast borne To see the great webs ofthe weaving torn By puny hands of dull, o'er-learned men, Homer, forgiveus that thy hero's star Once more above sea waves and waves of war, Mustrise, must triumph, and must set again!