CHAPTER VI.

FLOTSON OF THE MIDDLE SEA.

In the evening of that day upon which Arius encountered the strange old eremite upon the mountainside, draggled skirts of clouds swept across the northern horizon, and distant lightnings gleamed upon the waves. During the night the storm came nearer and nearer, and before sunrise the wind roared wildly over the Baucalis farm, and the troubled sea broke in foam and thunder for many a league along the coast. All day the tempest raged, but with nightfall the clouds broke away, although the turbulent waves continued to roll and tumble on the coast, and the angry waters gurgled through the narrow entrance into the little bay upon which Baucalis fronted. The dwellers at the farm watched the magnificent display from their open windows, but saw no sign of any ship belabored by the storm, and, after their usual religious exercises, retired to rest, thankful that there seemed to be no wreck along their coasts. During the night the sea ran down, and when Arius, early in the beautiful morning, went to the garden's edge beside the water, there was only a gentle swell perceivable upon the bosom of the deep, and a faint murmur of the waters crowding into and out of the narrow opening of the bay with a gurgling noise from which the farm derived its name. The lad pursued his usual occupation, until his attention was caught by a sound under the bank below him, as if some one gently and regularly struck upon the rock; and the boy then stepped forward, and, parting with his hands the fringe of shrub and weeds that grew upon the verge of the land, he gazed down into the waters of the bay, and at once discovered that the unusual sounds were made by the striking of the ends of some spars that composed a small raft against the rock, with the rise and fall of every wave. He also saw that two long spars or fragments of a ship's mast had been fastened across two others so as to form a small square between them, and that a large bull's hide was securely stretched over this square, leaving the four ends of the timbers extending beyond it. He also saw the outline of a human form lying supinely upon the hide, and of a smaller figure, with its head resting upon the other, both covered over with a bright-hued woolen quilt.

The lad called loudly to his father, who was at work in an adjacent field, but at a considerable distance from him, and, as soon as he had caught his attention, Arius sprang down the bank to ascertain whether the persons so quietly lying upon the raft were still alive. The ends of the timbers projected far beyond the hide upon which they lay, and the boy found himself in deep water almost at his first step from the shore; but he had been accustomed to daily baths in the bay from childhood, and without fear or hesitation he boldly dashed in between the projecting timbers toward the hide on which the bodies lay. The noise he made in calling Ammonius, and in dashing through the water, roused up one of the sleepers on the raft, and she slightly raised her head, and with her hand threw back the woolen covering, and Arius saw the swarthy face of a young Egyptian girl of twelve turned upon him with wide-open, wondering eyes. The other form was that of a woman, but she neither spoke nor moved, and Arius thought she must be dead. But the girl did speak, and the boy thought she used the Egyptian tongue, although he could not understand her words. Then he said, "Maiden, canst thou speak in Greek."

A swift gleam of intelligence broke over the child's wan face, and she joyfully answered: "Yea! for in Alexandria Greek is the common speech of all, whether they be Romans, Egyptians, or Jews!"

"Art thou wet?"

"Yea," she said, "soaked in salt water for I know not how long; but I have slept soundly, and mamma has not even yet waked up."

"If thou art so thoroughly wet already, a little more water will not hurt thee; so put thine arms about my neck, hold fast, and I will carry thee to land."

"But mother!" she cried; and then becoming frightened that she did not awake, she kissed her passionately, saying: "Mamma! mother! wake up! We have drifted to the shore!"

Then the poor lady murmured words that neither of them could comprehend, but she made no attempt to move, and seemed to be talking unconsciously. Then Arius took the girl's hand in his, saying gently: "My father will soon be here, and together we can take thy mother from the raft. Come thou with me."

Then the girl raised herself up into a sitting posture, and Arius, holding to the spar with one hand, with the other drew her down into the sea beside him, saying: "Now put up thine arms and hold on tightly; it is but a few feet to the shore."

And the girl said, "I can swim as well as thou, but I am weary and cold and hungry, and will put one hand on thy shoulder." And when she had done so the boy went hand over hand along the spar, and drew himself and her rapidly shoreward, until his feet rested firmly upon the bottom, and then he caught the child up in his arms and lifted her up to the dry ground.

By this time, Ammonius, coming with all speed, had reached the bank above them, and at one swift, intelligent glance comprehended the scene in all its pitiful details; then he sprang down the bank beside them, and said unto Arius, "Doth the woman yet live?"

"Yea, father, she was talking even now; but I scarcely think she knew what things she said."

"Run thou unto the house swiftly, tell thy mother, and bring hither a saw."

And the boy sprang up the bank instantly and ran homeward. Then Ammonius spoke kindly to the girl, saying, "How farest thou, little maiden?"

And the child said: "I am well enough, but wet and hungry. But mamma is ill. Please bring her to the land."

"Yea, maiden; soon will my son return with a saw, wherewith I can saw off two of the timbers where they cross the other two, and so draw the raft up close to the land, and then lift thy mother gently and safely to the shore. Dost thou understand me, child?"

"Yea," she answered, "and I see that it is best to wait. But I want my mother; she is sick indeed."

Very soon the agile youth returned, bringing the saw with him, and Ammonius immediately swam out to the bull's hide, and sawed away two of the timbers at the intersection thereof, and quickly drew the raft close up against the shore, and took up the quilt and cast it to Arius, telling him to spread it out upon the ground, and in his strong arms lifted up the unconscious woman and bore her up the bank and gently laid her upon the quilt. Soon Arete and old Thopt joined them; and Arius and his mother took each an end of the quilt upon which the woman lay, and Ammonius gathered up the other two ends, and they bore her gently but swiftly to the cottage; and old Thopt took the girl's hand in hers and followed them as quickly as her growing infirmities permitted.

Arete and old Thopt stripped the poor lady of her elegant apparel that was soaked through with sea-water, and rubbed her vigorously with woolen cloths, clothed her with warm woolen gowns out of Arete's wardrobe, and gave her hot tea made of such shrubs as were known to their simple domestic pharmacy. The sufferer manifestly got much relief from this treatment, but it was only too apparent that the terrible exposure to which she had been subjected had taken hold upon the very roots of life in her beautiful but delicate frame. Her unconscious murmurs were uttered in the Egyptian tongue, and, no sooner had old Thopt heard it, than a strange excitement seized her, and she answered the lady in the same strange speech, crooning over her like a mother over a sick child, or more like some affectionate animal licking its wounded young; for the Egyptian speech evidently shows the syllabication into articulate sounds of thoughts that were primarily expressed in signs and grimaces--the translation of brute means of communication into words; and its original rudimentary form is as direct and unveiled in the expression of passion and emotion as the actions of an animal could be.

The maiden, Theckla, having been well rubbed, well clad in dry garments, and well fed with hot soup and viands, seemed almost free from any ill effects of her long exposure upon the raft; and, being assured that her mother was tenderly cared for, rapidly recovered her strength and spirits.

The famous medical school at Cyrene educated many men in all the learning of a profession which was then in its infancy, and so thoroughly infested with charlatanism that even the most eminent professors of the art of healing commanded but small respect among intelligent people; and the Christians especially had no faith in their pretended ability to cure disease. In ordinary cases they trusted to careful nursing, and the curative power of nature in people whose freedom from vice and whose simple, healthful manner of life gave the patient every chance of recovery, without the use of incantations, charms, and poisons, which then constituted the chief resources of professional pharmacy; and in desperate cases they anointed the stricken one with oil, obtained the prayers of the Church in his behalf, and calmly awaited the issue; having neither any inordinate love of life nor any distressful fear of death, and looking upon even a fatal issue of the illness as a change that was often better than recovery--a happy release from the cares and uncertainties of earthly life, that was neither to be too rashly sought for nor too anxiously avoided. Hence the women at the farm themselves assumed the care of their interesting patient, and gave her constant and affectionate attention, but no drugs except such simple remedies as were in common family use, of all of which old Thopt had a very thorough knowledge. The old woman believed that sound and refreshing sleep is the secret of health and longevity, and that no one would die so long as this blessing was obtainable; and hence, in her opinion, the poppy was a panacea. The bark of certain species of the willow she knew to be good against malarial fevers, and this was her favorite remedy in every disease which manifested a remittent or intermittent form. She had no hesitation in declaring that the lady would be ill a long time, and that whether she would live or die must depend upon the vital forces she had to draw upon; for old Thopt had always remained at least a semi-pagan, and, if there was any Christianity in her, it was inextricably tangled up with the remnants of the old religion which she had learned in her home upon the Nile. She loved her mistress passionately and devotedly, just as a faithful dog might have loved, and she refused to accept the freedom offered to her by Arete when, under the influence and instructions of Ammonius, that lady had become a Christian; because one of the fixed and immovable articles of her ancient creed was that many Egyptians were created to be slaves, and that she was one of them; so that it would have been a measureless impiety for her to set up herself to be free. If she had any hatred of the new religion, it grew out of the fact that that faith undertook to abolish the relation of mistress and slave between Arete and herself. She had not undressed and washed her patient without immediately perceiving that she was one of that aristocratic class who had come into the world to enjoy all of its advantages, and to be waited upon by slaves, as was demonstrated to old Thopt's satisfaction by the fineness of her kilt, girdle, and gown, and by the delicate pink-color of her flesh beneath it; and the old woman would as soon have thought of organizing a rebellion against Anubis, the jackal-headed god himself, as to have thought of withholding proper reverence and care from the superior being who had been cast upon her guardianship. So that the Christian charity of Arete and the inborn sense of duty and obligation which generations of inherited servitude had made second nature in old Thopt combined to secure faithful and untiring care in behalf of the sick woman, and one or the other of them was in attendance upon her day and night.

But as Ammonius had carried her from the raft to the land, and on the way up to the house, he had heard her utter unconsciously, in the Egyptian language, disjointed sentences which caused him much anxiety; and, as soon as her immediate wants had been attended to, he charged the family that they were not in any way to apprise the lady that she had fallen into the hands of Christians until such time as he might deem it proper to instruct them otherwise; but that they should be as diligent in their care of her as if she had been the sister of them all. Before the close of the first day's watching beside her patient, Arete found ample reason, in the lady's feverish revelations, for the injunctions which her husband had given concerning her. She talked almost incessantly: now of her home in Alexandria; now of the rulers of Egypt; now of her husband Amosis, and of her daughter; now of some special mission which Amosis had undertaken at Rome; now of the fearful tempest; now of a desperate struggle upon the raft between her husband and some one else, in which both had fallen into the sea together. The substance of this disjointed and feverish babbling left no doubt upon Arete's mind that the lady's husband was in the service of the rulers of Egypt, and high in the confidence of both the priests and of the government; nor that he was a bitter adversary of the Christians; nor that, when overtaken by the tempest, he was on his journey to Rome, to obtain from the Emperor larger authority to persecute the Christians, even to extermination, in Egypt and throughout Northern Libya. She gathered also that when the officer and his wife and child had betaken themselves to the raft as their last hope of safety, some one, seeing that all order and discipline were lost, inflamed by a guilty passion for the beautiful woman, had leaped upon the raft with them as it was leaving the vessel's side, and that a desperate struggle had occurred between the husband and the intruder, in which both had fallen into the sea; and that the lady herself regarded the very name of Christians with detestation and horror, and fully sympathized with her husband's purpose to persecute them; and she had expected him to reap great and rapid advancement from his zeal against the churches. And, although not unconscious of the element of danger lurking in their intercourse with such a conscientious hater of Christianity, Arete felt even larger compassion for her beautiful patient's pagan darkness than for her physical illness; but she fully realized the propriety of her husband's caution upon the subject.

And so the weary days went by, and on the sixth morning the fever broke, and left the poor lady with restored consciousness, but physically as weak and helpless as an infant.

During these days, Arius and Theckla had become fast friends. She was a beautiful child, but an Egyptian of the aristocratic class. Her hair, which was as black as jet, curled profusely all around and over her shapely head in luxuriant masses. Her forehead was low and broad, the face a perfect oval from the full temples to the point of the plump, delicate, projecting chin, while the small, full-lipped mouth was red as a cherry, the upper lip notably short and voluptuous. The black, arched, delicate eyebrows nearly met at the root of the high, straight, delicately chiseled nose, and the large, dark eyes, soft, black, and fathomless, free alike from fire and languishment, were of a kind found nowhere on earth except along the Nile--full, wide-open eyes that seemed calm and untroubled as the sightless orbs of any sphinx, yet full of mystery as is the old, old land of Kem. Arius soon discovered that the girl was remarkably bright and quick, but that she could neither read nor write, all the instruction she had ever received (and she had been very carefully taught) having been communicated by oral teaching. Her native tongue was, of course, that of Egypt, but she spoke Greek with fluency, and Latin also, but with difficulty and hesitation.

On the evening of the day on which she had been rescued from the waves, the boy and girl were playing and chatting together in the shade before the cottage. The sun was just sinking beyond the distant mountain-range, when the girl said, "Do you go at sunrise or at sunset?"

"Go whither?" said Arius.

"Why, to worship Mentu, or Atmu, of course! Do you not worship?"

"Worship whom?" asked Arius.

"Oh," she answered, "old Ea, or Ptah, or Hesiri-Hes, or the other gods, any of them you prefer?"

"I do not worship any of them," said Arius.

"Perhaps, then," said Theckla, "thou art an atheist, and hatest all of the gods; and that is very wrong. For papa says that the atheists are little better than the Christians themselves, and that it is owing to their evil influence that so many young people in Alexandria are growing up to believe in nothing. But, blessed be the gods, I have been brought up in religion!"

"And which of the gods dost thou love and worship most?"

"I love none of them surely, but I fear and worship Ptah, Ra, and Hesiri-Hes, the cross old things; because mamma says that they are the most respectable; and I fear them much, especially the terrible, implacable, pitiless Ma-t."

"But do you not think," said Arius, "that you would rather worship some loving, compassionate, and holy deity, whom you could love, and obey because you loved him?"

"Oh, that would be funny, would it not?--for a girl to fall in love with a god! I never thought of such a thing before, but I believe," she added, with an arch glance at Arius, "that I would like a really nice handsome boy better than any of the plebeian gods!"

"What dost thou mean, Theckla, by saying 'the plebeian gods'?"

"Oh, I mean the new-fangled deities that have come into fashion during the last two or three thousand years--the cheap, low-priced divinities worshiped by the slaves and by the mechanics, like Sebek, the crocodile-headed, and all that contemptible crowd. Mamma says that we--that is, the nobility, you know--ought not to pay any attention to any of them except the dreadful old gods, like Ra, Ptah, Hesiri-Hes, and the other ancient divinities; because our own family is older and more honorable than any of them except the high, dreadful old fellows that have lived forever. Still, boy, thou hadst better worship even the wretched Sebek than to be an atheist or a Christian; for papa says so."

Then the boy's heart yearned to tell the beautiful pagan of the God in whom he believed, but, remembering his father's caution on that subject, he chose rather to avoid further conversation of the kind, and started off toward the bay to take his evening bath.

"Whither goest thou?" asked the little maiden.

"I am going to the bay to take a bath, as I do daily."

"That will be fine sport," she cried, "and I am going with you!"

And Theckla sprang to her feet, and ran along beside him. The boy reached the water's edge, and, casting aside the loose gown habitually worn about the farm, he plunged into the bay and struck out from the shore, the play of his limbs being almost unimpeded by the close-fitting under-garment reaching from the neck to midway of the thigh; and instantly the young girl, whom old Thopt had arrayed in the short, sleeveless kilt and long gown which the women usually wore, threw off her outside gown and plunged in after him, exclaiming: "Oh, it is nicer than Lake Mareotis! But I have swum with papa from the great Pharos to the Kibotos in the little harbor of Eunostos!" and she swam after the boy as gracefully as a mermaid. Soon she caught up with him, and, having placed her little hands upon his head, she suddenly straightened out her arms with all her strength, and raising herself up with a lithe and joyous spring above him, with all her weight she plunged his head down far beneath the surface, and swam laughingly away. The boy came up instantly and pursued the fleeing maiden, and as soon as he could catch up with her, which was no easy task, he said, "Thou shalt go under too, Theckla!" but she was so excellent a swimmer, and so quick and active, that for a long time she baffled all his efforts to get her head beneath the waves. She laughed and struggled, and defied him, and exulted greatly that he was not able to give her such a ducking as she had given him, until, at last, he wound his long arms around her, pinioning both of hers, and, clasping her to his bosom, stood straight up, and they sank together until his feet touched the bottom, from which he sprang upward to the surface. Then the lad kissed her and released her, saying, "Wilt thou dip me again, Theckla, or hast thou had enough of it?"

But the girl clasped her hands above her head, threw herself suddenly downward, and for a moment her little feet flashed above the water as she dived, and instantly afterward she clasped the boy's legs in her arms and pulled him again beneath the surface, and rose above the waves before he had recovered himself. And so they sported in the calm waters of the bay until the twilight began to thicken over the valley, when they started for the shore, and the girl swam beside him as lightly as a gull, and, having thrown their long gowns around them, hand in hand they walked back to the cottage.

Theckla's first inquiry was of her mother, and, finding that she continued ill, she obstinately refused to leave her after it grew dark, even for a moment, but stretched herself out upon the couch beside her and slept until morning.

So it was every evening. During the day-time Arius was her favorite companion, but she seemed to have an unconquerable aversion to darkness, and would not leave her mother's side while it continued. Ammonius told them to let her have her own way, as terror of the dark hours was part of the old religion in which she had been raised.