Hypatia, Charles Kingsley [ebook reader for manga txt] 📗

now, don’t be angry with me. The old Jewess is your friend, revile her as you will. She shall marry this Goth.’

‘An Arian heretic!’

‘She shall convert him and make a Catholic of him, if you like. At all events, if you wish to win her, you must win her my way. You have had your chance, and spoiled it. Let me have mine. Pelagia, darling! Up, and be a woman! We will find a philtre downstairs to give that ungrateful man, that shall make him more mad about you, before a day is over, than ever you were about him.’

‘No!’ said Pelagia, looking up. ‘No love-potions! No poisons!’

‘Poisons, little fool! Do you doubt the old woman’s skill? Do you think I shall make him lose his wits, as Callisphyra did to her lover last year, because she would trust to old Megaera’s drugs, instead of coming to me!’

‘No! No drugs; no magic! He must love me really, or not at all! He must love me for myself, because I am worth loving, because he honours, worships me, or let me die. I, whose boast was, even when I was basest, that I never needed such mean tricks, but conquered like Aphrodite, a queen in my own right! I have been my own love- charm: when I cease to be that, let me die!’

‘One as mad as the other!’ cried Miriam, in utter perplexity. ‘Hist! what is that tramp upon the stairs?’

At this moment heavy footsteps were heard ascending the stairs …. All three stopped aghast: Philammon, because he thought the visitors were monks in search of him; Miriam, because she thought they were Orestes’s guards in search of her; and Pelagia, from vague dread of anything and everything….

‘Have you an inner room?’ asked the Jewess.

‘None.’

The old woman set her lips firmly, and drew her dagger. Pelagia wrapped her face in her cloak, and stood trembling, bowed down, as if expecting another blow. The door opened, and in walked, neither monks nor guard, but Wulf and Smid.

‘Heyday, young monk!’ cried the latter worthy, with a loud laugh— ‘Veils here, too, eh? At your old trade, my worthy portress of hell-gate? Well, walk out now; we have a little business with this young gentleman.’

And slipping past the unsuspecting Goths, Pelagia and Miriam hurried downstairs.

‘The young one, at least, seems a little ashamed of her errand …. Now, Wulf, speak low; and I will see that no one is listening at the door.’

Philammon faced his unexpected visitors with a look of angry inquiry. What right had they, or any man, to intrude at such a moment on his misery and disgrace? .... But he was disarmed the next instant by old Wulf, who advanced to him, and looking him fully in the face with an expression which there was no mistaking, held out his broad, brown hand.

Philammon grasped it, and then covering his face with his hands, burst into tears.

‘You did right. You are a brave boy. If you had died, no man need have been ashamed to die your death.’

‘You were there, then?’ sobbed Philammon.

‘We were.’

‘And what is more,’ said Smid, as the poor boy writhed at the admission, ‘we were mightily minded, some of us, to have leapt down to you and cut you a passage out. One man, at least, whom I know of, felt his old blood as hot for the minute as a four-year-old’s. The foul curs! And to hoot her, after all! Oh that I may have one good hour’s hewing at them before I die!’

‘And you shall!’ said Wulf. ‘Boy, you wish to get this sister of yours into your power?’

‘It is hopeless—hopeless! She will never leave her—the Amal.’

‘Are you so sure of that?’

‘She told me so with her own lips not ten minutes ago. That was she who went out as you entered!’

A curse of astonishment and regret burst from Smid….

‘Had I but known her! By the soul of my fathers, she should have found that it was easier to come here than to go home again!’

‘Hush, Smid! Better as it is. Boy, if I put her into your power, dare you carry her off?’

Philammon hesitated one moment.

‘What I dare you know already. But it would be an unlawful thing, surely, to use violence.’

‘Settle your philosopher’s doubts for yourself. I have made my offer. I should have thought that a man in his senses could give but one answer, much more a mad monk.’

‘You forget the money matters, prince,’ said Smid, with a smile.

‘I do not. But I don’t think the boy so mean as to hesitate on that account.’

‘He may as well know, however, that we promise to send all her trumpery after her, even to the Amal’s presents. As for the house, we won’t trouble her to lend it us longer than we can help. We intend shortly to move into more extensive premises, and open business on a grander scale, as the shopkeepers say,—eh, prince?’

‘Her money?—That money? God forgive her!’ answered Philammon. ‘Do you fancy me base enough to touch it? But I am resolved. Tell me what to do, and I will do it.’

‘You know the lane which runs down to the canal, under the left wall of the house?’

‘Yes.’

‘And a door in the corner tower, close to the landing-place?’ ‘I do.’

‘Be there, with a dozen stout monks, to-morrow, an hour after sundown, and take what we give you. After that, the concern is yours, not ours.’

‘Monks?’ said Philammon. ‘I am at open feud with the whole order.’

‘Make friends with them, then,’ shortly suggested Smid.

Philammon writhed inwardly. ‘It makes no difference to you, I presume, whom I bring?’

‘No more than it does whether or not you pitch her into the canal, and put a hurdle over her when you have got her,’ answered Smid; ‘which is what a Goth would do, if he were in your place.’

‘Do not vex the poor lad, friend. If he thinks he can mend her instead of punishing her, in Freya’s name, let him try. You will be there, then? And mind, I like you. I liked you when you faced that great river-hog. I like you better now than ever; for you have spoken to-day like a Sagaman, and dared like a hero. Therefore mind; if you do not bring a good guard to-morrow night, your life will not be safe. The whole city is out in the streets; and Odin alone knows what will be done, and who will be alive, eight-and- forty hours hence. Mind you!—The mob may do strange things, and they may see still stranger things done. If you once find yourself safe back here, stay where you are, if you value her life or your own. And—if you are wise, let the men whom you bring with you be monks, though it cost your proud stomach—’

‘That’s not fair, prince! You are telling too much!’ interrupted Smid, while Philammon gulped down the said proud stomach, and answered, ‘Be it so!’

‘I have won my bet, Smid,’ said the old man, chuckling, as the two tramped out into the street, to the surprise and fear of all the neighbours, while the children clapped their hands, and the street dogs felt it their duty to bark lustily at the strange figures of their unwonted visitors.

‘No play, no pay, Wulf. We shall see to-morrow.’

‘I knew that he would stand the trial! I knew he was right at heart!’

‘At all events, there is no fear of his ill-using the poor thing, if he loves her well enough to go down on his knees to his sworn foes for her.’

‘I don’t know that,’ answered Wulf, with a shake of the head. ‘These monks, I hear, fancy that their God likes them the better the more miserable they are: so, perhaps they may fancy that he will like them all the more, the more miserable they make other people. However, it’s no concern of ours.’

‘We have quite enough of our own to see to just now. But mind, no play, no pay.’

‘Of course not. How the streets are filling! We shall not be able to see the guards to-night, if this mob thickens much more.’

‘We shall have enough to do to hold our own, perhaps. Do you hear what they are crying there? “Down with all heathens! Down with barbarians!” That means us, you know.’

‘Do you fancy no one understands Greek but yourself? Let them come …. It may give us an excuse …. And we can hold the house a week.’

‘But how can we get speech of the guards?’

‘We will slip round by water. And, after all, deeds will win them better than talk. They will be forced to fight on the same side as we, and most probably be glad of our help; for if the mob attacks any one, it will begin with the Prefect.’

‘And then—Curse their shouting! Let the soldiers once find our Amal at their head, and they will be ready to go with him a mile, where they meant to go a yard.’

‘The Goths will, and the Markmen, and those Dacians, and Thracians, or whatever the Romans call them. But I hardly trust the Huns.’

‘The curse of heaven on their pudding faces and pigs’ eyes! There will be no love lost between us. But there are not twenty of them scattered in different troops; one of us can thrash three of them; and they will be sure to side with the winning party. Besides, plunder, plunder, comrade! When did you know a Hun turn back from that, even if he were only on the scent of a lump of tallow?’

‘As for the Gauls and Latins,’ .... went on Wulf meditatively, ‘they belong to any man who can pay them.’....

‘Which we can do, like all wise generals, one penny out of our own pocket, and nine out of the enemy’s. And the Amal is staunch?’

‘Staunch as his own hounds, now there is something to be done on the spot. His heart was in the right place after all. I knew it all along. But he could never in his life see four-and-twenty hours before him. Even now if that Pelagia gets him under her spell again, he may throw down his sword, and fall as fast asleep as ever.’

‘Never fear; we have settled her destiny for her, as far as that is concerned. Look at the mob before the door! We must get in by the postern-gate.’

‘Get in by the sewer, like a rat! I go my own way. Draw, old hammer and tongs! or run away!’

‘Not this time.’ And sword in hand, the two marched into the heart of the crowd, who gave way before them like a flock of sheep.

‘They know their intended shepherds already,’ said Smid. But at that moment the crowd, seeing them about to enter the house, raised a yell of ‘Goths! Heathens! Barbarians!’ and a rush from behind took place.

‘If you will have it, then!’ said Wulf. And the two long bright blades flashed round and round their heads, redder and redder every time they swung aloft …. The old men never even