A great number of persons had collected during the night on the quay near
Nesptah's inn. The crowd was increasing every minute, and in spite of
the intense heat, not a Memphite could bear to stop within doors, Men,
women and children were flocking to the scene of the festival; they came
in thousands from the neighboring towns, hamlets and villages, to witness
the unprecedented sacrifice which was to put an end to the misery of the
land. Who had ever heard of such a marriage? What a privilege, what a
happiness, to be so fortunate as to see it!
The senate had not been idle and had done all in their power to surround
it with magnificence and to enable as many as possible to enjoy the
pageant, which had been planned with a lavish hand and liberal
munificence.
Round the cove by Nesptah's inn a semi-circular wooden stand had been
constructed, on which thousands found seats or standing-room. Stalls
furnished with hangings were erected in the middle of the tribune for the
authorities and their families as well as for the leading Arab officials,
and arm-chairs were placed in them for the Vekeel, for the Kadi, for
the head of the senate, for old Horapollo and also for the Christian
priesthood, though it was well known that they would not be present
at the ceremony.
The lower classes, who could not afford to pay for admission to these
seats, had established themselves on the banks of the river; wandering
dealers had followed them, and wherever the crowd was densest they had
displayed their wares—light refreshments or solid food—on two-wheeled
trucks, or on little carpets spread on the ground. In the tribune itself
the cries of the water-sellers were incessant as they offered filtered
Nile water and fruit syrups for sale.
The parched tops of the palms, where turtle doves, lapwings and sparrow-
hawks were wont to perch, were crowded with the vagabond boys of the
town, who whiled away the time by pulling the withered and diseased dates
from the great clumps and flinging them down on the bystanders below,
till the guard took aim at them with their arrows and stopped the game.
The centre of attraction to all eyes was a wooden platform or pontoon,
built far out into the stream; from thence the bride was to be flung into
the watery embrace of the expectant bridegroom. Here the masters of the
ceremonies had put forth their best efforts, and it was magnificently
decorated with hangings and handkerchiefs, palm-leaves and flags; with
heavy garlands of tamarisk and willow, mingled with bright blossoms of
the lotos and mallow, lilies and roses; with devices emblematic of the
province, and other gilt ornaments. Only the furthest end of it was
unadorned and without even a railing, that there might be nothing to
intercept the view of the "marriage."
Three hours before noon none were absent but those whose places were
secured, and ere long curiosity brought them also to the spot. The town-
watch found it required all their efforts to keep the front ranks of the
people from being pushed into the river by those behind; indeed, this
accident could not be everywhere guarded against; but, thanks to the
shallow state of the water, no one was the worse. But the cries of those
who were in danger nevertheless drowned the music of the bands performing
on raised platforms and the shouts of applause which rose on all sides to
hail Horapollo—who was here, there, everywhere on his white ass as brisk
as a lad—or to greet some leading official.
And now and again loud cries of anguish were heard, or the closely-packed
throng parted with exclamations of horror. A citizen had had a
sunstroke, or had been seized by the plague. Then the fugitives dragged
others away with them; screaming mothers trying to save their little ones
from the crush on one hand and the contagion on the other, oversetting
one dealer's truck, smashing the eggs and cakes of another. A whole
party were pushed into a deep but half-dried up water-course; the
guardians of the peace flourished their staves, yelling and making their
victims yell in their efforts to restore order—but all this hardly
affected the vast body of spectators, and suddenly peace reigned, the
confusion subsided, the shrieks were silenced. Those who were doomed
might fall or die, be crushed or plague-stricken. Trumpet calls and
singing were heard approaching from the town: the procession, the Bridal
procession was coming! Not a man but would have perished rather than be
deprived of seeing a single act of this stupendous drama.
Those Arabs—what fools they were! Besides the Vekeel only three of
their magnates were present, and those men whom no one knew. Even the
Kadi was nowhere to be seen; and he must have forbidden the Moslem women
to come, for not a single veiled beauty of the harem was visible. Not
one Egyptian woman would have failed to appear if the plague had not kept
so many imprisoned in their houses. Such a thing would never be seen
again; this day's doings would be a tale to tell to future great-
grandchildren!
The music and singing came nearer and nearer; and it did not indeed sound
as if it were escorting a hapless creature to a fearful end. Blast after
blast rang out from the trumpets, filling the air with festive defiance;
cheerful bridal songs came nearer and nearer to the listeners, the shrill
chorus of boys and maidens sounding above the deeper and stronger chant
of youths and men of all ages; flutes piped a gay invitation to gladness;
the dull roar of drums muttered like the distant waves in time to a
march, broken by the clang of cymbals and the tinkle of bells hung around
tambourines held high by girlish hands which struck, rattled and waved
them above their flowing curls; lute players discoursed sweet music on
the strings; and as this vast tide of mingled tones came closer, behind
it there was still more music and more song.
To the ear the procession seemed endless, and the eye soon confirmed the
impression.
All were listening, gazing, watching to see the Bride and her escort.
Every eye seemed compelled to turn in the same direction; and presently
there came: first the trumpeters on spirited horses, and these ranged
themselves on each side of the road by the shore leading to the scene of
the "marriage." In front of them the choir of women took their stand to
the left and, on the right, the men who had marched after them. All
alike were arrayed in light sea-green garments, and loaded with lotos-
flowers. The women's hair, twined with white blossoms, flowed over their
shoulders; the men carried bunches of papyrus and reeds;—they
represented river gods that had risen from the stream.
Then came boys and bearded men, in white robes, with panther-skins on
their shoulders, as the heathen priests had been wont to wear them. They
were headed by two old men with long white beards, one holding a silver
cup and the other a golden one, ready to fling them into the waves as a
first offering, according to the practise of their forefathers, as
Horapollo had described and ordered it. These went on to the pontoon, to
its farthest end, and took their place on one side of the platform whence
the Bride was to be cast into the river. Behind them came a large troop
of flute-players and drummers, followed by fifty maidens holding
tambourines, and fifty men all dressed and carrying emblems as followers
of Dionysus, or Osiris-Bacchus, who had been worshipped here in the time
of the Romans; with these came the drunken Silenus, goathoofed Satyrs and
Pan, with his reed-pipes, all riding grey asses strangely bedaubed with
yellow.
Then followed giraffes, elephants, ostriches, antelopes, gazelles; even
some tamed lions and panthers were led past the wondering crowd; for this
had been done in the famous procession in honor of the second Ptolemy,
described by Callixenus of Rhodes.
Next came a large car drawn by twelve black horses, and on it a
symbolical group of Famine and Pestilence overthrown; they were
surrounded by shrieking black children, with pointed wings on their
shoulders and horns on their foreheads, bound to stakes to represent the
hosts of hell—a performance which they tried to make at once ghastly and
droll.
On another car the Goddess of the Inundation was to be seen. She sat
amid sheaves, fruits, and garlands of vine; while round her were groups
of children with apples and corn, pomegranates and bunches of dates,
wine-jars and cups in their hands.
Presently there appeared in a large shell, as though lounging in a bath,
the goddess of health; she was drawn by eight snow-white horses, and held
in one hand a golden goblet and in the other a caduceus. After her came
the river-god Nile, the bridegroom of the marriage, studied from the
famous statue carried away from Alexandria by the Romans: a splendid and
mighty bearded man, resting against an urn. Sixteen naked children—the
sixteen ells that the river must rise for its overflow to bless the land
—played round his herculean form, and a bridal wreath of lotos-flowers
crowned his flowing locks. This car, which was decorated with
crocodiles, sheaves, dates, grapes, and shells, was hailed with shouts of
enthusiasm; it was escorted by old men in the costume of the heathen
priesthood.
Behind this came more music and singers, with a troop of young men and
maidens led by lute-players singing. These too were dressed as the
genie, and nymphs of the river and were the groomsmen and bridesmaids in
attendance on the betrothed.
The longer the procession lasted and the nearer the looked-for victim
approached, the more eagerly attent were the gazing multitude.
When this group of youths and maidens had gone by, there was hardly a
sound to be heard in the tribune and among the crowd. No one felt the
fierce heat of the sun, no one heeded the thirst that parched every
tongue; all eyes were bent in one direction; only the black Vekeel, whose
colossal form towered up where he stood, occasionally sent a sinister and
anxious glance towards the town. He expected to see smoke rising from
the quarter near the prison, and suddenly his lips parted and he
displayed his dazzlingly white teeth in a scornful laugh. That which he
looked for had come to pass; the little grey cloud which he discerned
grew blacker, and then, in the heart of it, rose a crimson glow which did
not take its color from the sun. But of all those thousands he was the
only one who looked behind him and observed it.
The bride's attendants had by this time taken their station on the
pontoon; here came another band of youths with panther skins on their
shoulders; and now—at last, at last—a car came swaying along, drawn by
eight coal-black oxen dressed with green ostrich-feathers and water-
plants.
The car was shaded by a tall canopy, supported by four poles, against
which leaned four men in the robes of the heathen priesthood; this awning
was lavishly decorated with wreaths of lotos and reeds, and fenced about
with papyrus, bulrushes, tall grasses and blossoming river-weeds.
Beneath it sat the queen of the festival—the Bride of the Nile.
Robed in white and closely veiled, she was quite motionless. Her long,
thick brown hair fell over her shoulders; at her feet lay a wreath, and
rare rose-colored lotos-flowers were strewn on the car.
The bishop had been sitting at her side, the first Christian priest,
certainly, of all the swarms of monks and ecclesiastics in Memphis, who
had ever appeared at such a scene of heathen abomination. He was now
standing, looking down at the crowd with a deeply knit brow and menacing
gaze. What good had come of the penitential sermons in all the churches,
of his and his vicar's warnings and threats? In spite of all
remonstrance he had mounted the car with the condemned victim,
after administering the last consolations to her soul. It might
cost him his life, but he would keep his promise.
In her hand Paula held two roses: one was Orion's last greeting delivered
by Martina; the other Pulcheria had brought her early in the morning.
Yesterday, in a lucid moment, her dying father had given her his fondest
blessing, little knowing what hung over her; to-day he had not come to
himself, and had neither noticed nor returned her parting kiss. Quite
unconscious, he had been moved from the prison out of doors and to the
house of Rufinus. Dame Joanna would not forego the privilege of giving
him a resting-place and taking care of him till the end.
Orion's last note was placed in Paula's hands just before she set out;
it informed her that his task was now successfully ended. He had been
told that it was to-morrow, and not to-day, that the hideous act would be
accomplished; and it was a consolation to her to know that he was spared
the agony of following her in fancy in her fearful progress.
She had allowed the women who came to clothe her in bridal array to
perform their task; among them was Emau, the chief warder's wife, and her
overflowing compassion had done Paula good. But even in the prison-yard
she had felt it unendurable to exhibit herself decked in her bridal
wreaths to the gaping multitude; she had torn them from her and thrown
them on the ground.
How long—how interminably long—had the road to the river appeared; but
she had never raised her eyes to look at the curious crowd, never ceased
lifting up her heart in prayer; and when her proud blood boiled, or
despair had almost taken possession of her, she had grasped the bishop's
hand and he had never wearied of encouraging her and exhorting her to
cling to love and faith, and not even yet abandon all hope.
Thus they at last reached the pontoon at whose further end life would
begin for her in another world. The shouts of the crowd were as loud,
as triumphant, as expectant as ever; music and singing mingled with the
roar of thousands of spectators; she allowed herself to be lifted from
the car as though she were stunned, and followed the young men and
maidens who formed the bridal train, and in alternate choruses sang the
finest nuptial song of Sappho the fair Lesbian.
The bishop now made an attempt to address the people, but he was soon
reduced to silence. So he once more joined Paula, and hand in hand they
went on to the pier.
All she had in her of strength, pride, and heroic courage she summoned to
her aid to enable her to walk these last few paces with her head erect,
and without tottering; she had gone half way along the wooden structure,
with a mien as lofty and majestic as though she were marching to command
the obedience of the mob, when hoofs came thundering after her on the
boards.
Old Horapollo, on his white ass, had overtaken her and stopped her on her
road. Breathless, bathed in perspiration, scornful and triumphant, he
desired her to remove her veil, and ordered the bishop to leave her and
give up his place to the man who represented Father Nile—a gigantic
farrier who followed him, somewhat embarrassed in his costume, but very
ready to perform his part to the end.
The priest and Paula, however, refused to obey. At this the old man tore
the veil from her face and signed to the Nile-God; he stepped forward and
assumed his rights, after bowing respectfully to the prelate—who was
forced to make way—and then led the Bride to the end of the platform.
Here the two elders who had headed the procession in honor of Bacchus,
cast the gold cups as offerings into the river, and then a lawyer, in the
costume of a heathen priest, proceeded to expound, in a well-set speech,
the meaning of this betrothal and sacrifice. He took Paula's hand to
place in that of the farrier, who made ready to cast her into the river
for which he stood proxy.
But an obstacle intervened before he could do so. A large and splendid
barge had drawn up close to the platform, and shouts were heard from the
tribune and from the mob which had till now looked on in breathless
suspense and profound silence:
"Susannah's barge!"
"Look at the Nile, look at the river!"
"It is the water-wagtail—Philammon's rich heiress!"
"A pretty sight!"
"Another Bride—a second Bride!"
And the gaze of the multitude was now, as one eye, fixed on Katharina.
Susannah's handsome barge had been passing up and down near the platform
for the last hour, and the guards on duty had several times desired that
it was to be kept at a distance from the scene of the "marriage;" but in
vain; and they in their little boats were not strong enough to take
active measures against the larger vessel manned by fifty rowers. It had
now steered quite close to the pontoon, and the splendid gilding and
carving, the tall deck-house supported on silver pillars, and the crimson
embroidered sails would have been a gorgeous feast for the eye, but that
the black flag floating from the mast gave it a melancholy and gloomy
aspect.
Within the cabin Katharina had made her waiting-women dress her in white
and deck her with white flowers-myrtle, roses and lotos; but she
vouchsafed no reply to their anxious enquiries.
The maid who fastened the flowers on her bosom could feel her mistress's
heart beating under her hand, and the lotos-blossoms which drooped from
her shoulder rose and fell as though they were already rocking on the
waves of the Nile. Her lips, too, never ceased moving, and her cheeks
were as pale as death.
"What is she going to do?" her attendants asked each other.
Her mother dead only yesterday, and now she chose to be present at this
ceremonial, desiring the steersman to run close to the platform and keep
near to it, where all the world could see her. But she evidently wished
to display herself to the people in all her finery and be admired, for
she presently went up on the roof of the deck-house. And she looked
lovely, as lovely as a guileless angel, as she mounted the steps with
childlike diffidence-timidly, but with wide open eyes, as though
something grand was awaiting her there—something she had long yearned
for with her whole heart.
Anubis had to help her up the last steps, for her knees gave way; but
once at the top she sent him down again to remain below with the others,
as she wished to be alone. The lad was accustomed to obey; and Katharina
now stepped on a seat close to the side of the boat, turned to Paula,
whom she was now rapidly approaching, and held out to her and the bishop
two tall lily-stems covered with splendid blossoms. At the very moment
when the farrier was measuring by eye the distance between the platform
and the barge, and had judged it impossible to cast the Bride into the
stream till the vessel had moved on, Katharina cried out:
"Reverend Father John—and all of you! Take me, me and not the daughter
of Thomas! It is I, not she—I am the true Bride of the Nile. Of my own
free will—hear me, John!—of my own free will I am ready to give my life
for my hapless land and the misery of the people, and the patriarch said
that such a sacrifice as mine would be acceptable to Heaven. Farewell!
Pray for me!—Lord have mercy upon me! Mother, dear Mother, I am coming
to you!"
Then she called to the steersman: "Put out from the platform!" and as
soon as a few strokes of the oars had carried the barge into the deeper
channel she stepped nimbly on to the edge of the bulwark, dropped the
lilies into the river, and then with a smile, her head gracefully bent on
one side and her skirt modestly held round her, she slipped into the
water.
The waves closed over her; but she was a good swimmer and could not help
coming once to the surface. Her expression was that of a bather enjoying
the cool fresh water that laved and gurgled round her. Perhaps the
wild storm of applause, the mingled cries of horror, compassion and
thanksgiving that went up from the assembled thousands once more reached
her ear—but she dived head foremost to rise no more.
The "River-God," a good-hearted man, who in his daily life could never
have let a fellow-creature drown under his very eyes, forgot his part,
released Paula, and sprang after Katharina, as did Anubis and a few
boatmen; but they could not reach her, and the boy, who found swimming
difficult with his crippled leg followed the girl to whom his young heart
was wholly devoted to a watery death.
Her speech had reached no ears but those to whom it was addressed; but
before she was lost in the waters Bishop John turned to the people, took
Paula's hand—and she felt free once more when her terrible bridegroom
had deserted her—and holding up the Crucifix which hung at his girdle he
shouted loudly:
"Behold the desires of our holy Father Benjamin, by whom God himself
speaks to you, have met with fulfilment. A pure and noble Jacobite
maiden, of her own free and beautiful impulse, has sacrificed herself
after the example of the Saviour, for the sufferings of her nation,
before your eyes. This one," and he drew Paula to him, "this one is
free; the Nile has had his victim!"
But almost before he had done speaking—before the people could proclaim
their vote—Horapollo had rushed at him and interrupted him. He had
dismounted from his ass during the earlier part of the proceedings, and,
not to let his prey escape, he now came between Paula and the bishop,
grasped her dress and cried to the chorus of youths:
"Come on—at once! One of you take the part of the Nile-God—into the
river with the Bride!" The bishop however forced himself between the
speaker and the girl to protect her. But Horapollo flew into a fury and
rushed at the prelate to snatch away the image of the Saviour, while John
exclaimed in a voice of ominous thunder: "Anathema!"
This word of fear roused the Christian blood in the Egyptians; the
sacrilegious attempt stirred the zeal which they had proved in many a
struggle, and which had only been kept under by an effort during these
times of trouble: the leader of the choir dragged the old man away and
took part with the bishop. Others followed his example, while several,
on the contrary, sided with old Horapollo who clung tightly to Paula,
preferring to die himself rather than allow her to escape his hatred and
vengeance.
At this moment the clang of bells was heard from the town with a terrific
and unaccountable uproar, and a young man was seen forcing his way
through the throng, a naked sword in his hand, and in spite of his torn
garments, his wild hair, and his blackened face, he was at once
recognized as Orion. Every one made way for him, for he rushed on like a
madman; as he reached the pontoon and took in at a glance what was going
forward there, he sprang past the mummers with mighty leaps to the
platform, pushing aside sundry groups of fighting champions; and before
the principal actors were aware of his presence, he had snatched Paula
from the old man's clutch, and called her by her name. She sank on his
breast half-fainting with terror, surprise and unspeakable rapture, and
he clasped her to him with his left arm, while the flashing sword in his
right hand and his flaming looks warned all bystanders that it would be
as wise to attack a lioness defending her young as to defy this desperate
man, who was prepared to face death with the woman he loved.
His push had sent Horapollo tottering to some distance; and when the old
man had pulled himself together, to throw himself once more on his
victim, he found himself the centre of a fight. A wild troop had
followed Orion and beset the struggling mob, whom they presently drove
over the edge of the pontoon into the river, and with them Horapollo.
Most of these saved themselves by swimming, but the old man sank, and
nothing more was seen of him but his clenched fist, which rose in menace
for some minutes above the waters.
Meanwhile the Vekeel had become aware of what was going forward on the
platform; he leaped in fury from his seat to restore order, intending to
seize Orion whom he fancied he had seen, or, if necessary to cut him down
with his own hand.
But a vast multitude stopped his progress, for a fearful horde of
released prisoners with Orion at their head had come rushing down to the
scene of the festival yelling: "Fire! the prison is burning, the town is
in flames!"
Every one who could run fled at once to Memphis to save his house, his
possessions and those dear to him. Like a flock of doves scared by the
scream of a hawk, like autumn leaves driven before the wind, the
multitude dispersed. They hurried back to the town in wild tumult and
inextricable confusion, jumping into the festal cars, cutting loose the
horses from that of the goddess of health, to mount them and ride home,
overthrowing everything that stood in their way and dragging back the
Vekeel who was striving, sword in hand, to get to the pontoon.
The smoke and flames of the city were rising every moment, and acted like
magic in spurring the flying crowd to reach their homes in time. But,
before Obada had succeeded in his efforts, the pushing throng were once
more brought to a standstill; horses were heard approaching. Dense
masses of dust hid them and their riders; but it was certainly an armed
troop that was coming clattering onwards, for flashing gleams were seen
here and there through the dull clouds that shrouded them, the reflection
of the sun's bright rays from polished and glittering helmets, breast-
plates, and sabres.
Now they were visible even where the Vekeel was. Foremost rode the Kadi,
and just as he came up with Obada he sprang from the saddle on to the
wooden structure, and with a loud cry of: "Free-saved!" in which all
the joy of his heart found utterance, he stretched out both his hands to
Paula, who was advancing towards the shore clinging closely to Orion.
Othman did not observe the Vekeel, who was but a few paces distant. The
words "Free!" "Saved!" from the supreme judge, gave the negro to
understand that a pardon must have arrived for his youthful foe, and this
of course implied the condemnation of his own proceedings. All his hopes
were wrecked, for this meant that Omar still ruled and that the attempt
on the Khaliff's life had failed. Dismissal, punishment or death must be
his doom, when Amru should return. Still, he would not succumb till the
instrument of his ruin had preceded him to the grave. Taking the Kadi by
surprise he thrust him aside, and prepared to deal a fearful blow that
should fell Orion before he himself should fall. But the captain of the
body-guard, who had followed Othman, had watched his movements: Swift as
lightning he rose in his saddle and swung his cimeter, which cut deep
into the Vekeel's neck. With a hideous curse Obada let his arm drop, and
fell struggling for his last breath at the feet of the newly united
couple.
The populace afterwards declared that his blood was not red like that of
other men, but black like his skin and his soul. They had good cause to
curse his memory, for his villainy had reduced more than half Memphis to
ashes that day, and brought the city to beggary.
He had hired two venial wretches to set fire to the prison while the
festival was proceeding, with a view to suffocating Orion in his cell;
but the gang were detected and all the prisoners were released in time.
Thus the young man had been able to reach the scene of the ceremonial at
the head of his fellow-captives. The fire, however, had gained the upper
hand in the deserted town. It had spread from house to house along the
sun-scorched streets, and next day nothing remained of the city of the
Pyramids but the road along the shore, and a few wretched alleys. The
ancient Capital of the Pharaohs was reduced to a village, and the
houseless residents moved across to the eastern bank, to people as
Moslems the newly-founded town of Fostat, or sought a home on Christian
territory.
Among the houses that had escaped was that of Rufinus, and thither the
Kadi escorted Orion and Paula. It was to serve as their prison till the
return of Amru, and there they spent delightful days in the society of
their friends, and there Thomas was so happy as to clasp his children to
his heart once more, and bless them before he died.
A few minutes before the Kadi had reached the scene of the festival two
carrier pigeons had arrived, each bearing the Arab governor's commands
that the sacrifice of Paula was at any rate to be stopped, and her life
spared till his return. He also reserved the right of deciding Orion's
fate.
Mary and Rustem had met Amru at Berenice, on the Egyptian coast of the
Red Sea. This decaying sea-port was connected with Medina by a pigeon-
post, and in reply to his viceroy's enquiry with reference to the victim
about to be offered by the despairing Egyptians to the Nile, Omar had
sent a reply which had been immediately forwarded to the Kadi.
The burning of their town had brought new and fearful suffering on the
stricken Memphites, and notwithstanding Katharina's death the Nile still
did not rise. The Kadi therefore once more summoned a meeting of all
the inhabitants from both sides of the river, three days after the
interrupted marriage-festival. It was held under the palms by Nesptah's
inn, and there he proclaimed to the multitude, Moslem and Christian, by
means of the Arab herald and Egyptian interpreter, what the Khaliff
commanded him to declare, namely: that God, the One, the All-merciful,
scorned human sacrifice. In this firm conviction he, Omar, would beseech
Allah the Compassionate, and he sent a letter which was to be cast into
the river in his name.
And this letter was addressed:
"To the River of Egypt." And its contents were as follows:
"If thou, O River, flowest of thyself, then swell not; but if it be God,
the One, the Compassionate, that maketh thee to flow, then we entreat the
All-merciful that he will bid thee rise!"
"That which is not of God," wrote Amru in the letter which enclosed
Omar's, "what shall it profit men? But all things created are by Him,
and so is your noble river. The Most High will hearken to Omar's prayers
and ours, and I therefore command that all of you—Moslems, Christians,
and Jews, shall gather together in the Mosque on the other side of the
Nile which I have built to the glory of the All-merciful, and that you
there lift up your souls in one great common prayer, to the end that God
may hear you and take pity on your sufferings!"
And the Kadi bid all the people to go across the Nile and they obeyed his
bidding. Bishop John called on his clergy and marched at their head,
leading the Christians; the priests and elders of the Jews led their
people next to the Jacobites; and side by side with these the Moslems
gathered in the magnificent pillared sanctuary of Amru, where the three
congregations of different creeds lifted up, their hearts and eyes and
voices to the pitying Father in Heaven.
And this very Mosque of Amru has more than once been the scene of the
same sublime spectacle; even within the lifetime and before the eyes of
the narrator of this tale have Moslems, Christians, and Jews united there
in one pious prayer, which must have been acceptable indeed in the ears
of the Lord.
Not long after the letter from the Khaliff Omar had been cast into the
Nile, and the prayer of the united assembly had gone up to Heaven from
the Mosque of Armu, a pigeon came in announcing a sudden rise in the
waters at the cataracts; and after some still anxious but hopeful days of
patience, the Nile swelled higher and yet higher, overflowed its banks,
and gave the laborer a right to look forward to a rich harvest; and then,
when a heavy storm of rain had laid the choking dust, the plague, too,
disappeared.
Just when the river was beginning to rise perceptibly Amru returned;
bringing in his train little Mary and Rustem, Philippus the leech and
Haschim, who had joined the governor's caravan at Djidda.
In the course of their journey they received news of all that had been
happening at Memphis, and when the travellers were approaching their last
night-quarters, and the Pyramids were already in sight, the governor said
to little Mary:
"What do you say little one? Do we not owe the Memphites the treat of a
splendid marriage festival?"
"No, my lord, two," replied the child.
"How is that?" laughed Amru, "You are too young and do not count yet,
and I know no other maiden in Memphis whose wedding I should care to
provide for."
"But there is a man towards whom you feel most kindly, and who lives as
lonely as a recluse. I should like to see him married, and at the same
time as Orion and Paula. I mean our good friend Philippus."
"The physician? And is he still unwed?" asked Amru in surprise; for no
Moslem of the leech's age and position could remain unmarried without
exposing himself to the contempt of his fellow-believers. "He is a
widower then!"
"No," replied Mary. "He has never yet found a wife to suit him; but I
know one created on purpose for him by God himself!"
"You little Khatbe!"—[ A professional go-between]—cried the governor.
"Well, settle the matter, and it shall be no fault of mine if the second
wedding lacks magnificence."
"And we will have a third!" interrupted the child, clapping her hands
and laughing. "My worthy escort Rustem….
"The colossus! Why, child, to you all things are possible! Have you
found a wife for him too?"
"No, he found Mandane for himself without my help."
"It is the same thing!" cried the governor jovially. "I will provide
for her. But that must satisfy you, or else all those unbelievers whom
we are settling here will drive us Moslem Arabs out of the land."
The great man had often held such discourse as this with the child since
she had entered his tent at Berenice, there to lay before him the case of
the couple she loved, and for whom she had taken on herself great risk
and hardship; she had pleaded so eloquently, so kindly, and with such
fervent and pathetic words, that Amru had at once made up his mind to
grant her everything that lay in his power. Mary had done him a service,
too, by bringing him the information she could give him, for it enabled
him to avert perils which threatened the interests of the Crescent, and
also to save the children of two men he honored—the son of the Mukaukas,
and the daughter of Thomas—from imminent danger.
He found, on his return home, that the Vekeel's crimes far exceeded his
worst fears. Obada's proceedings had begun to undermine that respect for
Arab rule and Moslem justice which Amru had done his utmost to secure.
It was only by a miracle that Orion had escaped his plots, for he had
three times sent assassins to the prison, and it was entirely owing to
the watchful care of pretty Emau's husband that the youth had been able
to save himself in the fire. Obada had done all this to clear out of his
path the hated man whose statements and impeachments might ruin him.
The wretch had met a less ignominious death than his judges would have
granted him. The wealth found hoarded in his dwelling was sent to
Medina; and even Orion was forced to see the vast sums of which the Negro
had plundered his treasury, appropriated by the Arabs. The Arab governor
thought it only right to inflict this penalty for the share he had taken
in the rescue of the nuns; and the young man submitted willingly to a
punishment which restored him and his bride to freedom, and enabled Amru
to apply a larger proportion of the revenues of his native land for its
own benefit.
The Khaliff Omar, however, never received these moneys, which constituted
far more than half of Orion's patrimony. The Prophet's truest friend,
the wise and powerful ruler, fell by the assassin's hand, and the world
now learnt that the Vekeel had been one of the chief conspirators and had
been spurred on to the rashest extremes by his confidence of success.
Amru received the son of the Mukaukas as a father might; after examining
the result of his labors he found it far superior to his own efforts in
the same direction, and he charged Orion to carry out the new division of
the country, which he confirmed excepting in a few details.
Perform your duty and do your utmost in the future to go on as you have
begun!" cried Amru; and the young man replied:
"In this bitter and yet happy interval I have become clear on many
points."
"And may I ask on what?" asked the governor. "I would gladly hear."
"I have discovered, my lord," replied Orion, "that there is no such thing
as happiness or unhappiness in the sense men give to the words. Life
appears to each of us as we ourselves paint it. Hard times which come
into our lives from outside are often no more than a brief night from
which a brighter day presently dawns—or the stab of a surgeon's knife,
which makes us sounder than before. What men call grief is, times
without number, a path to greater ease; whereas the ordinary happiness of
mankind flows, swiftly as running waters, down from that delightful sense
of ease. Like a ship, which, when her rudder is lost, is more likely to
ride out the storm on the high seas than near the sheltering coast, so a
man who has lost himself may easily recover himself and his true
happiness in the wildest turmoil of life, but rarely and with difficulty
if his existence runs calmly on. All other blessings are comparatively
worthless if we are not upheld by the consciousness of fulfilling the
task of life in faithful earnest, and of cheerfully dealing with the
problems it sets before us. The lost one was found as soon as he placed
his whole being and faculties at the service of a higher duty, with God
in his heart and before his eyes. I have learnt from my own experience,
and from Paula's good friends, to strive untiringly after what is right,
and to find my own weal in that of others.
"The sense of lost liberty is hard to bear; but leave me love, and give
me room and opportunity to prove my best powers in the service of the
community, even in a prison—and though I cannot be perfectly happy, for
that is impossible without freedom—I will be far happier than such an
idle and useless spendthrift of time and abilities as I used to be among
the dissipations of the capital."
"Then enjoy the consciousness of duty well performed, with liberty and
love," replied the governor. "And believe me, my friend, your father in
Paradise will no more grudge you all that is loveliest and best than I
do. You are on the road where every curse is turned to blessing."
The three marriages which Amru had promised to provide for, were
celebrated with due splendor.
That of Orion and Paula was a day never to be forgotten by the gay world
of Memphis. Bishop John performed the ceremony, and the young couple at
once took possession of the beautiful house left them by Katharina, the
real Bride of the Nile. If it could have been granted to her to read
Paula's and Orion's hearts, and see how they held her in remembrance,
she would have found that to them she was no longer the childish water-
wagtail, and that they knew how to value the sacrifice of her young life.
Their first beloved guest, who went with them to their new home, was
little Mary, and she remained their dearest companion till she married
happily. The governess, Eudoxia, to whom also Orion offered an asylum,
accompanied Mary to her own delightful home; and there at last Mary
closed her old friend's eyes, after the good woman had brought up her
little ones, not like a hireling but as a true mother.
The Patriarch Benjamin, too, who was led by many considerations—and not
least by Katharina's will to remain on good terms with the son of the
Mukaukas, was a visitor to the youthful pair. Neither he nor the Church
ever had reason to repent his alliance with Orion; and when Paula
presented her husband with a son, the prelate offered to be his sponsor,
and named him George after his grandfather.
Orion's son, too, inherited the office of Mukaukas, when he came to man's
estate, from his father who was appointed to it, but under a new Arab
title, shortly after his marriage.
Ere long, however, Orion, as the highest Christian authority in his
native land, had to change his place of residence and leave Memphis,
which was doomed to ruin, for Alexandria. From thence his power extended
over the whole Nile-valley, and he devoted himself to his charge with so
much zeal, fidelity, justice, and prudence, that his name was remembered
with veneration and affection by generations long after.
Paula was the pride and joy of his life, and they lived together in
devoted union to an advanced age. He regarded it as one of the duties of
his life, to care for the woman who had made him what he was from a lost
and reprobate creature, and to fill every day of her life with joy. When
he built his palace at Alexandria, he graced it with the inscription that
had been engraved on Thomas' ring: "God hath set the sweat of man's brow
before virtue."
Philippus and his Pulcheria also found a new home in Alexandria. He had
no long wooing to do; for when, on his return, the girl of whom he had
thought constantly during his long journeying, met him for the first time
in her mother's house and held out both her hands with trustful warmth of
welcome, he clasped her to him and would not release her till Joanna had
given them her maternal blessing. The widow lived in the leech's house
with her children and grandchildren, and often visited her husband's
grave. At length she was laid to rest by him and his soft-hearted
mother, in the cemetery of Alexandria.
Rustem, made a rich man by Orion, became a famous breeder of horses and
camels in his own country, while Mandane ruled mildly but prudently over
his possessions—which he never shared with others, though he remained a
Masdakite till he died. The first daughter his wife bore him was named
Mary, and the first boy Haschim; but she would not agree to Rustem's
proposal that the second should be called Orion; she preferred to give
him the name of Rufinus, and his successors were Rustem and Philippus.
The senator and his wife were only too glad to quit Egypt. Martina,
however, had the satisfaction of assisting at the marriage of her dear
Heliodora on the shores of the Nile; not, indeed, to her "Great
Sesostris," but to her nephew Narses, who by the young widow's devoted
care was restored, if not to perfect vigor, at any rate to very endurable
good health.
Paula's wedding gift to her was the great emerald, which had meanwhile
been brought back again to Memphis. Justinus and Martina always remained
on terms of cordial friendship with the young Mukaukas and his wife:
Nilus lived long after to perform his duties with industry and judgment;
and whenever Haschim came to Alexandria there was a contest between Orion
and Philippus, for neither would yield him to the other. But Philip
could no longer envy his former rival the wife he had won. He had not,
indeed, ceased to admire her; but at the same time he would say: "My
comfortable little Pulcheria has not her match; our rooms would be too
small for Paula, but they suit my golden-haired girl best."
He remained unselfishly devoted to his work till the end, and, when he
saw Orion wearing himself out in energetic toil, he would often say:
"He knows now what life demands, and acts accordingly; and that is why he
grows no older, and his laugh is as winning and gay as ever. It is an
honor to be called friend by a woman who like the Bride of the Nile.
saved herself from certain death, and a man who, like the young Mukaukas,
has freed himself from the heaviest of all curses."
To this day the Bride of the Nile is not forgotten. Before the river
begins to rise on the Night of Dropping the inhabitants of the town of
Cairo, which grew up after the ruin of Memphis, on the eastern shore by
the side of Fostat, erect a figure of clay, representing a maiden form,
which they call Aroosa or the Bride.