CHAPTER VII.

THECKLA FINDS ONE GOD AND HEARETH OF ANOTHER.

So passed the days away, and Arius and Theckla became as firmly bound to each other as if they had been raised together all their little lives. On the second day after her coming, Arius had resumed his usual tasks in the garden and in the fields; and when he came home at noontide she seemed rejoiced to see him, and demanded with playful imperiousness, "Where hast thou been all the morning, Arius?"

"I have been at work in the garden," replied the boy.

"At work!" she exclaimed; "digging with thy hands? Why, thou art not a slave!"

And the boy answered, laughing merrily: "Nay, I call no man master; I am as free as any Caesar!"

"Why, then, dost thou work? Verily, I thought that none but slaves and mechanics ever labor."

"But thou dost greatly err. It is true that some Greeks, Romans, and Jews, suppose that none ought to labor except those whom they call 'vile'; or rather they call all who labor 'vile,' but I do not accept their monstrous definitions, having been thoroughly taught that the only man who is free is he who lives by his labor without dependence upon relatives, or upon the offices which are distributed by the favoritism of the dissolute and wicked creatures whom they call emperors, Caesars, proconsuls, and such titles; and I am free-born, and will maintain my liberty."

"Why, then, dost thou toil?"

"Because we need to toil in order to live comfortably and independently, as we are not rich, and do not desire to be so; but I never will be any man's servant. And, also, because it is noble and right to toil in some way, and every one who is not idiotic, deformed, or afflicted, is unfit to live unless he follows some honorable and useful vocation."

"Thou art the very nicest boy I know," she said, "but it seemeth so strange to me that thou shouldst labor with thy hands, and shouldst talk as if thou didst believe that it is good and not degrading to do so. I never heard such things. But I will go with thee this afternoon and see what thou doest."

"Thou mayst do so," said Arius, "and thou mayst help me with my work if thou wilt."

But the little maiden held up her hands that looked like delicate wax-work, and laughingly cried out, "Even with these hands?"

"Yea," said the boy, merrily, "even with those, tender and pretty as they are."

So after the midday meal, when Arius went back to the patch of onions at which he was at work, Theckla accompanied him, and stood awhile watching him as he dug up the tubers.

"What is to be done with these?" she asked.

"They are to be gathered up into little heaps, and carried hence to the house, and stored away until wanted."

"Why, I can pile them up for you," she cried, and straightway she began to gather the onions up as fast as the boy dug them, saying: "I wonder what mamma would think if she knew I was learning to work? But it is good, and I will help thee every day."

"Thou shalt not weary thyself," said the boy, "and thou shalt quit as soon as thou dost desire to do so."

But she would not stop, and continued at the task for several hours, until it was completed, seeming to be delighted with her newly discovered ability to be of use.

"What other work hast thou to do?"

"Nothing else, Theckla, except to take some salt to the cattle in the pasture, beyond the field, and thou mayst go into the house. I will not be long absent."

"But I will not go to the house, Arius; I will go with thee, and see the large-eyed beasts."

"Come on, then," said the boy, and, taking up the bag of salt which he had brought from the barn, he led the way along the shore of the little bay until they had passed beyond the field, where they came upon the edge of the pasture-land, and there Arius scattered the salt along a great trough of wood, to which some of the cattle had hurried up as soon as they saw the boy, and others came one after another, until more than a score were contentedly licking up the salt; and among them a fine bull-calf that was peculiarly marked. The kindly-treated herd were tame and fearless, and, as soon as young Theckla saw the bull, she gazed at him with the most intense interest, and ran up to the animal, crying out, excitedly: "Lo, the god! the god! the beautiful young Apis!"

"What dost thou mean now?" said Arius.

"Why, boy," she answered, joyously, "thou art the most fortunate boy that ever lived. Seest thou not the god--the sacred bull--the beautiful young Apis? Seest thou not the black-colored hide; the triangular white spot upon his forehead; the hairs on his back roughened out into the form of an eagle; the crescent white spot upon his right side? Oh, if he hath a knot under his tongue in the shape of a scarabaeus, the sacred beetle of Ptah, he hath then all the marks that reveal the bull to be a god! Wilt thou not look under his tongue and see?"

The boy gazed upon her with mingled pity, amusement, and contempt. He had read and heard of the worship of idols and of beasts, but had never before witnessed an actual exhibition of such idolatry. "Why, Theckla," he answered, "the bull is no more a god than thou art a cow. I am amazed that so sensible a girl should be capable of such folly as to think this beast a god."

"But he is an Apis, Arius, and the priests of the temple at Memphis would give thee his weight in gold for him. They would come hither in a royal procession to carry him hence; they would keep him for forty days at Nilopolis, and for forty days at Memphis, and the noblest of the women in the city would go in naked and worship him; and he would be fed like a great king as long as he lives, and when he dies he would become an Osor-hapi, a great god, and would secure thy soul. Surely the priests must know that he is a great god, or they would not build such grand temples in honor of Apis, and worship him with such magnificent and costly ceremonies and processions. I verily fear that thou art an atheist, Arius, but I have been raised up to be religious, and I know."

"Theckla," answered the boy, "I can take a goad in my hand and drive this sort of a god whithersoever I will; I can catch his tail in my hands and twist it until he shall bellow with pain. If thou wilt hold out to him an ear of corn in thine hand, he will follow thee about like a dog; and thou callest the beast a god! Theckla, I am verily ashamed of thy foolishness."

But the young girl looked gravely at her companion, and said in tones of solemn warning and reproof: "Arius, thou dost not believe in Ea, Ptah, Shu, Seb, Set, Mentu, Atmu, nor in Hesiri-Hes; and thou dost laugh at the sacred Hathors, and thou dost mock the bull-god Apis!--Boy, dost thou believe in anything? Or art thou an atheist?"

"Yea," cried Arius, laughing, "I believe thou art the brightest and the prettiest little pagan in the world; and some time I shall explain to thee what I believe, and convince thee of the folly of thy polytheistic and idolatrous notions. But not now, for thy god and the other beasts with him have salt enough, and we must return home."

They went back along the bay-shore, and the sun was nigh the tops of the distant mountains; and Arius, walking a little in advance of Theckla, heard a sudden plunge into the water, and looking back he saw the little maiden swimming boldly out into the bay, and immediately he plunged in after her. They swam, dived, raced, scuffled, and sported in the pure and healthful element until twilight began to gather over the lowlands, and then, hand in hand, they wandered back to the cottage, Theckla going immediately to her mother's apartment, whose side she would not leave so long as the night lasted--a horror of darkness being incident to the Egyptian religion, derived, perhaps, from the grand midnight ceremonies of the Memphian priests in which annually with torches and processions, and weird and impressive wailings, they celebrated the world-wide search of Isis for the dismembered body of the consort whose mangled limbs the hatred of the evil Seth had scattered about the earth.

Theckla wanted to tell her mother about the wonderful young Apis, but old Thopt peremptorily enjoined silence upon her, and forbade the sick lady to talk in her present excessively debilitated condition. For it was manifest that her recovery was exceedingly doubtful, and that even the slightest excitement or effort might be fatal to her. She lay quietly enough, and while she recognized Theckla, and seemed to understand the few Egyptian words spoken to her by Arete and old Thopt, which were carefully limited to repeating to her that she had been very ill, and must remain entirely quiet, and neither talk nor even think, she seemed almost to have forgotten the shipwreck and the loss of her husband; and the two women who watched her devotedly even doubted whether she knew that she was away from home. They looked forward with great anxiety to the time when she might grow strong enough to shake off this healthful lassitude of extreme exhaustion, and realize her unhappy circumstances. But the recent past seemed to have been blotted out of her memory, and she lay quiet and uncomplaining, apparently content with her surroundings; and the anxious nurses carefully avoided everything that could even by chance arouse her drowsy intelligence, and renew the consciousness of grief that seemed to slumber in her brain.

The Sabbath-day came round again, and, with the rising of the sun, young Theckla bounded out of her mother's room, calling aloud for Arius. It was usual on the Sabbath for the family at Baucalis to go to some house of a Christian in the vicinity, where would be gathered together a small assemblage of the faithful for religious services, or to have the neighbors assemble at the farm for the same purpose. On this day, however, Arete and old Thopt would be necessarily detained at home by the illness of the Egyptian Hatasa; and Ammonius, who still thought it prudent, both upon her account and upon his own, not to inform her that she was enjoying the hospitality of a family belonging to the hated sect that was everywhere spoken against, and that was persecuted throughout Libya even more bitterly than elsewhere in the Roman Empire, ordered that Arius should take charge of Theckla for the day, and determined himself to go to the assembly, in order to consult certain of the brethren about his future course in reference to his involuntary guests. Arius then informed his father about the singular recluse he had met with upon the mountain on the preceding Sabbath, of his promise to visit him upon that day, and asked his permission to go, saying that he would take Theckla with him if his father had no objection to suggest, and would invite the singular and learned old man to visit them. To this Ammonius readily gave his consent, and Arius thereupon told Theckla of the facts, and invited her to accompany him, to which she enthusiastically assented. The farm vineyard produced a wine almost identical with the famous Mareotic, which was praised from the mouth of the Nile to Athens and to Rome. It also produced figs, pomegranates, apricots, peaches, oranges, citrons, lemons, limes, and bananas, which the Christians commonly called the "fruits of paradise," because in that latitude they were in season the whole year through. It also produced various melons, among them a delicious watermelon, yellow on the inside, lotus, and olives. In their garden, also, grew the rose, the jasmine, the lily, the oleander, chrysanthemums, geraniums, dahlias, helianthus, and violets, and they could raise almost every vegetable known to both tropical and temperate zones.

Arius procured a basket, and enlisted the services of old Thopt by telling her that he was about to visit an ancient Egyptian hermit who dwelt alone upon the mountain, and desired to take him a lot of good things to comfort his loneliness; and that kind-hearted creature soon had a few bottles of excellent wine, some bread-loaves of finest flour, and quite an assortment of choice fruits, both preserved and fresh, packed into the basket, the whole crowned with a beautiful bouquet plucked by Theckla's dainty fingers. Arius, bearing his basket, and followed by the agile girl, pursued his way along the little bay until he had passed by it westwardly, and then began the long but gradual ascent of the mountain, upon a small plateau of which dwelt the aged eremite. In less than two hours they had reached the plateau in front of the hermitage, and soon beheld the ancient seated near his own door, his weary eyes gazing far away over the brilliant expanse of the Mediterranean. The approach of the two young people caught his attention, and with a genial smile the old man welcomed them. Taking the girl's hand in his own, he murmured: "She is a bright and lovely child, and a true daughter of Kem" (the Black-land). He spoke in the Egyptian language, which he knew Arius did not understand, but the girl answered in the same tongue: "Yea, father, I am from To-mehit" (the North-land), "and was born in Alexandria."

Then the ancient said with surprise: "How is it that thou speakest Egyptian, when thy brother knoweth no word of the strange old language? Or _is_ he thy brother?"

This he said in Greek, and Arius answered, "Nay, she is not my sister, but is a guest in my father's house."

Then he succinctly narrated the story of the rescue of Theckla and her mother from the raft. The old man listened with much interest to the boy's graphic recital; and then, turning to Theckla, he said: "Child, art thou, too, a Christian like thy friend Arius; or art thou still in bondage to the false and fearful gods of Kem?"

Then the girl showed in her speaking face her loathing and abhorrence for the very name of Christ, and turning hastily to Arius she cried: "Art thou, then, a Christian? Belongest thou to that accursed and criminal association? Oh, say it is not so, or I will never, never love thee any more!"

But the boy drew himself up proudly and answered: "Yea, Theckla, I am a Christian, thank the boundless mercy of God! And, when thou shalt have learned what it is to be a Christian, I trust that thou wilt follow Jesus thyself, and love me and all other Christians more and more. For verily we are not such a people as thou hast been taught to believe us to be, any more than our bull is a god, as thou didst suppose."

"I do not very much believe in Apis," she said, "but the common people do. Ah! Arius, I am so sorry to hear this thing of thee! Why, if my mother had known that ye were Christians, she would sooner have died upon the raft than have gone into thy father's house, or to have suffered any one of you to touch her with your hands. Oh, I am so vexed to find that thou art connected with such a people!"

Then said Arius: "Thy mother is well cared for; and thou must let her know nothing until she hath become stronger; thou wouldst only distress her by informing her of the fact of our being Christians, and it could do no good to tell her."

Then the girl drew nigh to him with tearful eyes, and crossed her little hands upon his shoulder, and leaned her head against them, and, looking up into his eyes with sorrow and tenderness, said: "Ye have been so good and kind to both of us, that I can not help loving all the people at thy home, and I do love thee, although thou art a Christian; but it is a terrible thing; for papa says that to be a Christian is worse than to be an atheist."

These things all occurred in a moment, and the ancient, seeing that it had not been the purpose of Arius to inform the maiden concerning his religion, and that he himself had unwittingly brought about the disclosure of the fact, said unto them: "Come within and be seated, my children; I desire to talk to both of you."

And, when they had gone within, Arius set his basket upon the old man's table, saying: "I have brought unto thee wine, bread, and fruits, as a token of my reverence for thine age and learning. I desire to be friendly with thee."

The old man seemed to be much touched by the boy's speech and manner, and gently answered: "I thank thee, truly, and far more for thy kind words than for any gifts. Not often do the ancient enjoy the friendship of the young, although nothing else on earth can be more pleasant unto them."

"But the heart of a Christian needeth renewal," said Arius, "if it be not always both young enough to sympathize with the youngest, and old enough to sympathize with even the very oldest. The very core of our religion is the _Agape_, a love which is not measured by age nor accident, but goeth out freely to every one that needeth it."

The old man looked upon the boy with wonder, saying: "That is beautiful, indeed; there is no such truth in any other religion."

And the girl said, "That is good and strong, Arius, although it be a Christian dogma."

Then the ancient said: "I desire that ye will listen to me carefully for a moment, and thou especially, Theckla. Children, I am nigh upon fourscore years of age. My name is Am-nem-hat. In mine infancy I was placed in the great temple at Thebes, and dedicated to the service of Amen-Ba, Mut, and Kuhns, the Theban triad. My family was ancient and honorable in Egypt, and their influence and wealth opened the way for me to all priestly honors and learning. I remained in that temple fifty years, during twenty-five of which I was a priest, and I gradually mastered all the wisdom, learning, and mysteries of the priesthood, until my fellows determined that I should be elevated to the highest rank in the sacerdotal service, and I was ordained and inaugurated to be high-priest at Ombos, where I continued for five-and-twenty years longer. The triad which throughout all Egypt is worshiped as Hesiri-Hes, and Horus, we at Thebes worshiped as Amen-Ra, Mut, and Kuhns, and at Ombos as Ptah-Pukht and Imhotep. But, while during all these years I exercised the functions and exhausted the learning of the priesthood, I forever sought after Ma-t, the Goddess of Truth, she that in her own hall, in the lower world, is called Two Truths, by whom the dead are judged.--Dost thou know something of the fearful Ma-t, young Theckla?"

"Yea," answered the girl, with a perceptible shudder, "I know her well, and tremble at the dreadful thought of her! So wise! so hard and pitiless! so tearless, and yet so just! The terrible Ma-t, without mercy, incapable of love, unmoved by hate, implacable, emotionless, the fearful judge, the Truth!"

"Then listen to me, child! I worshiped through all these lonely years as a faithful, conscientious priest, and memorized the book of the dead, and studied the mysteries of medicine, of astronomy, and of mathematics, and sought unceasingly to know the awful Ma-t! Dost thou think that I am one who ought to know whether any of the gods of Kem are true or false?"

Then Theckla fell upon her knees before the ancient priest, and lifting her little hands to him she cried: "Yea, father, thou knowest! Ancient, honorable, learned priest, thou knowest! Teach thou Arius to believe in the three great gods, to seek the awful Ma-t, and to abandon the pernicious Christian faith, for thou art wise! thou knowest all the truth!"

"Listen then, Theckla. Five years ago, driven by the quenchless curiosity of an unsatisfied but earnest soul, I caused to be brought before me one who preached to men of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, because I had heard that these Christians were irreclaimable from the errors of their superstition, and I desired to test the question whether they could be persuaded to return unto the old religion. I kept him with me many days, while we discussed these things, and then sent him from me unconvinced. And afterward I fled from the temple secretly, in an open boat, in which I had placed my most valuable possessions, and floated down the Nile. Thence I wandered along the coast to Alexandria, where, for a great sum, secretly I purchased all the sacred writings of the Jews and Christians, and, after many days more of wandering along the coast, I found this spot and have since then dwelt here alone, still seeking for the truth. For--art thou listening to me, Theckla?--a horror of great darkness had fallen upon my soul. I know that Amen-Ra, Mut, and Kuhns, are not true gods! Apis is nothing but a bull; Anubis is only a jackal; Sebek is a crocodile and nothing more; and even the most ancient gods, if there be any truth in them at all, are only the visible emblems of some higher truth which the very priests have forgotten, if, indeed, they ever knew it. I have hoped and half expected to find that this unknown truth, this 'hidden' thing which is not Hapi, might be that which the Christians promulgate; but this I do not know. Nevertheless, my child, I tell thee that the gods of Kem are no true gods; and I counsel thee to learn of Arius that which he believeth! For falsehood is not profitable; and I realize that all my days have been consumed in learning and in teaching only errors; and it is sad and terrible."

Both of them heard the old man's confession with awe and sympathy, and when, overcome by strong emotion, he had ceased to speak, Theckla gave way to a passionate burst of tears; but, as soon as she could regain her self-control, she turned to the ancient and with strange earnestness exclaimed, "O Father Am-nem-hat, high and honorable priest, hast thou, too, become a Christian?"

"Nay," replied the old man solemnly, "I have only learned the bitter lesson that the gods of Egypt are all false: I have not found a true God yet, if any such there be."

"Thou shalt yet find him," cried Arius, "to the joy and consolation of thy spirit, and thine old age shall be filled with the peace of God that passeth all understanding; for he that seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh shall it be opened."

Then they were all silent for a time. Then some of the kids came up to the door, and Theckla, oppressed with the sadness and solemnity of the last few minutes, sprang up, crying out: "O the pretty, happy kids! May I go out and play with them?"

And the old man, with a pleasant smile, answered, "Yea, my child, if thou wilt not leave the plateau."

And Theckla bounded out of the house, and was soon engaged in a lively romp with the sportive young goats.