<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"></SPAN></p>
<h2> CHAPTER XVI. </h2>
<p>A short row took Hermon and Eumedes the admiral's galley. Ledscha had
already been carried ashore. There she was to be confronted with the men
who were suspected of having showed the mutineers the way to the city.</p>
<p>Absorbed in his own thoughts, Hermon waited for the admiral, who at first
was claimed by one official duty after another. The artist's thoughts
lingered with Daphne. To her father the loss of his house, nay, perhaps of
his wealth, would seem almost unendurable, yet even were he beggared,
provision was made for him and his daughter. He, Hermon, could again
create, as in former days, and what happiness it would be if he were
permitted to repay the man to whom he owed so much for the kindness
bestowed upon him!</p>
<p>He longed to give to the woman he loved again and again, and it would have
seemed to him a favour of fortune if the flames had consumed even the last
drachm of her wealthy father.</p>
<p>Completely engrossed by these reflections, he forgot the horrors before
him, but when he raised his eyes and saw the archers continuing their
terrible work he shuddered.</p>
<p>The admiral's galley lay so near the shore that he distinguished the
figures of the Gauls separately. Some, obeying the instinct of self
preservation, fled from the places which could be reached by the arrows of
the archers on the ships, but others pressed toward the shafts. A
frightful, heart-rending spectacle, yet how rich in food for the
long-darkened eyes of the artist! Two brothers of unusual height, who,
nude like all their comrades in death, offered their broad, beautifully
arched chests to the arrows, would not leave his memory. It was a terrible
sight, yet grand and worthy of being wrested from oblivion by art, and it
impressed itself firmly on his mind.</p>
<p>After noon Eumedes could at last devote himself to his young friend.
Although the wind drove showers of fine rain before it, the admiral
remained on deck with the sculptor. What cared they for the inclement
weather, while one was recalling to mind and telling his friend how the
hate of an offended woman had unchained the gloomy spirits of revenge upon
him, the other, who had defied death on land water, listened to his story,
sometimes in surprise, sometimes with silent horror?</p>
<p>After the examination to which she had been subjected, Eumedes had
believed Ledscha to be as Hermon described her. He found nothing petty in
this beautiful, passionate creature who avenged the injustice inflicted
upon her as Fate took vengeance, who, with unsparing energy, anticipated
the Nemesis to whom she appealed, compelled men's obedience, and instead
of enriching herself cast away the talents extorted to bring down fresh
ruin upon the man who had transformed her love to hate.</p>
<p>While the friends consulted together with lowered voices, their conjecture
became conviction that it was the Biamite's inextinguishable hate which
had led her to the Gauls and induced her to share the attack upon the
capital.</p>
<p>The assault upon the houses of Archias and Myrtilus was a proof of this,
for the latter was still believed to be Hermon's property. She had
probably supposed that the merchant's palace sheltered Daphne, in whom,
even at Tennis, she had seen and hated her successful rival.</p>
<p>Only the undeniable fact that Ledscha was the bridge-builder's companion
presented an enigma difficult to solve. The freedman Bias had remained on
Philippus's galley, and could not now be appealed to for a confirmation of
his assertions, but Hermon distinctly remembered his statement that
Ledscha had allowed the Gaul, after he had received the money intended for
him, to take her from Pitane to Africa.</p>
<p>When the short November day was drawing to a close, and the friends had
strengthened themselves with food and drink, the rain ceased and, as the
sun set, its after-glow broke through the rifts and fissures in the black
wall of clouds in the western horizon like blazing flames in the
conflagration of a solid stone building. Yet the glow vanished swiftly
enough. The darkness of night spread over the sea and the arid strip of
land in the south, but the greedy croaking of the ravens and vultures
echoed more and more loudly from the upper air. From time to time the
outbursts of rage and agony of despairing men, and horrible jeering
laughter, drowned the voices of the flocks of birds and the roaring of the
tempestuous sea. Sometimes, too, a sharp word of command, or a signal
heard for a long distance, pierced through the awful sounds.</p>
<p>Here and there, and at last everywhere on the squadron, which surrounded
the tongue of land in a shallow curve, dim lights began to appear on the
masts and prows of the ships; but darkness brooded over the coast. Only in
the three fortified guardhouses, which had been hastily erected here, the
feeble light of a lantern illumined the gloom.</p>
<p>Twinkling lights also appeared in the night heavens between the swiftly
flying clouds. One star after another began to adorn the blue islands in
the cloudy firmament, and at last the full moon burst through the heavy
banks of dark clouds, and shone in pure brilliancy above their heads, like
a huge silver vessel in the black catafalque of a giant.</p>
<p>At the end of the first hour after sunset Eumedes ordered the boat to be
manned.</p>
<p>Armed as if for battle, he prepared for the row to the scene of misery,
and requested Hermon to buckle a coat of mail under his chlamys and put on
the sword he gave him. True, a division of reliable Macedonian warriors
was to accompany them, and Ledscha was in a well-guarded place, yet it
might perhaps be necessary to defend themselves against an outburst of
despair among the condemned prisoners. On the short trip, the crests of
the tossing waves sometimes shone with a flickering light, while elsewhere
long shadows spread like dark sails over the sea. The flat coast on which
both men soon stepped was brightly illumined by the moonbeams, and the
forms of the doomed men stood forth, like the black figures on the red
background of a vase, upon the yellowish-brown sand on which they were
standing, running, walking, or lying.</p>
<p>At the western end of the tongue of land a sand hill had been surrounded
by a wall and moat, guarded by heavily armed soldiers and several archers.
The level ground below had been made secure against any attack, and on the
right side was a roof supported by pillars.</p>
<p>The officials intrusted with the examination of the ringleaders had
remained during the day in this hastily erected open hut. The latter,
bound to posts, awaited their sentence.</p>
<p>The only woman among them was Ledscha, who crouched, unfettered, on the
ground behind the enclosure, which consisted of short stakes fastened by a
rope.</p>
<p>Without presenting any serious obstacle, it merely indicated how far the
prisoners might venture to go. Whoever crossed it must expect to be struck
down by an arrow from the wall. This earthwork, it is true, menaced those
held captive here, but they also owed it a debt of gratitude, for it shut
from their eyes the horrible incidents on the sandy plain between the sea
and the inland lake.</p>
<p>This spot was now made as light as day by the rays of the full moon which
floated in the pure azure sky far above the black cloud mountains, like a
white lotus flower on clear waters, and poured floods of silvery radiance
upon the earth.</p>
<p>Eumedes commanded the Macedonians who formed his escort to remain at the
fortress on the dune, and, pointing out Ledscha by a wave of the hand, he
whispered to Hermon: "By the girdle of Aphrodite! she is terribly
beautiful! For whom is the Medea probably brewing in imagination the
poisoned draught?"</p>
<p>Then he gave the sculptor permission to promise her immunity from
punishment if she would consent at least to explain the Gauls' connection
with the royal palaces; but Hermon strenuously refused to undertake this
or a similar commission to Ledscha.</p>
<p>Eumedes had expected the denial, and merely expressed to his friend his
desire to speak to the Biamite after his interview was over. However
refractory she might be, his mother's intercession should benefit her.
Hermon might assure her that he, the commander, meant to deal leniently.
He pressed the artist's hand as he spoke, and walked rapidly away to
ascertain the condition of affairs in the other guardhouses.</p>
<p>Never had the brave artist's heart throbbed faster in any danger than on
the eve of this meeting; but it was no longer love that thrilled it so
passionately, far less hate or the desire to let his foe feel that her
revenge was baffled.</p>
<p>It was easy for the victor to exercise magnanimity, and easiest of all for
the sculptor in the presence of so beautiful an enemy, and Hermon thought
he had never seen the Biamite look fairer. How exquisitely rounded was the
oval, how delicately cut the profile of her face, how large were the
widely separated, sparkling eyes, above which, even in the pale moonlight,
the thick black brows were visible, united under the forehead as if for a
dark deed to be performed in common!</p>
<p>Time had rather enhanced than lessened the spell of this wonderful young
creature. Now she rose from the ground where she had been crouching and
paced several times up and down the short path at her disposal; but she
started suddenly, for one of the Gauls bound to the posts, in whom Hermon
recognised the bridge-builder, Lutarius, called her name, and when she
turned her face toward him, panted in broken Greek like one overwhelmed by
despair: "Once more—it shall be the last time—I beseech you!
Lay your hand upon my brow, and if that is too much, speak but one kind
word to me before all is over! I only want to hear that you do not hate me
like a foe and despise me like a dog. What can it cost you? You need only
tell me in two words that you are sorry for your harshness."</p>
<p>"The same fate awaits us both," cried Ledscha curtly and firmly. "Let each
take care of himself. When my turn comes and my eyes grow dim in death, I
will thank them that they will not show you to me again, base wretch,
throughout eternity."</p>
<p>Lutarius shrieked aloud in savage fury, and tore so frantically at the
strong ropes which bound him that the firm posts shook, but Ledscha turned
away and approached the hut.</p>
<p>She leaned thoughtfully against one of the pillars that supported the
roof, and the artist's eyes watched her intently; every movement seemed to
him noble and worth remembering.</p>
<p>With her hand shading her brow, she gazed upward to the full moon.</p>
<p>Hermon had already delayed speaking to her too long, but he would have
deemed it criminal to startle her from this attitude. So must Arachne have
stood when the goddess, in unjust anger, raised the weaver's shuttle
against the more skilful mortal; for while Ledscha's brow frowned angrily,
a triumphant smile hovered around her mouth. At the same time she slightly
opened her exquisitely formed lips, and the little white teeth which
Hermon had once thought so bewitchingly beautiful glittered between them.</p>
<p>Like the astronomer who fixes his gaze and tries to imprint upon his
memory some rare star in the firmament which a cloud is threatening to
obscure, he now strove to obtain Ledscha's image. He would and could model
her in this attitude, exactly as she stood there, without her veil, which
had been torn from her during the hand-to-hand conflict when she was
captured, with her thick, half-loosened tresses falling over her left
shoulder; nav, even with the slightly hooked nose, which was opposed to
the old rule of art that permitted only the straight bridge of the nose to
be given to beautiful women. Her nature harmonized with the ideal even in
the smallest detail; here any deviation from reality must tend to injure
the work.</p>
<p>She remained motionless for minutes in the same attitude, as if she knew
that she was posing to an artist; but Hermon gazed at her as if spell
bound till the fettered Gaul again called her name.</p>
<p>Then she left the supporting pillar, approached the barrier, stopped at
the rope which extended from one short stake to another, and gazed at the
man who was following her outside of the rope.</p>
<p>It was a Greek who stood directly opposite to her. A black beard adorned
his grave, handsome countenance. He, too, had a chlamys, such as she had
formerly seen on another. Only the short sword, which he wore suspended at
his right side in the Hellenic fashion, would not suit that other; but
suddenly a rush of hot blood crimsoned her face. As if to save herself
from falling, she flung out both arms and clutched a stake with her right
and her left hand, thrusting her head and the upper portion of her body
across the rope toward the man whose appearance had created so wild a
tumult in her whole being.</p>
<p>At last she called Hermon's name in such keen suspense that it fell upon
his ear like a shrill cry.</p>
<p>"Ledscha," he answered warmly, extending both hands to her in sincere
sympathy; but she did not heed the movement, and her tone of calm
self-satisfaction surprised him as she answered: "So you seek me in
misfortune? Even the blind man knows how to find me here."</p>
<p>"I would far rather have met you again in the greatest happiness!" he
interrupted gently. "But I am no longer blind. The immortals again permit
me, as in former days, to feast my eyes upon your marvellous beauty."</p>
<p>A shrill laugh cut short his words, and the "Not blind!" which fell again
and again from her lips sounded more like laughter than speech.</p>
<p>There are tears of grief and of joy, and the laugh which is an
accompaniment of pleasure is also heard on the narrow boundary between
suffering and despair.</p>
<p>It pierced the artist's heart more deeply than the most savage outburst of
fury, and when Ledscha gasped: "Not blind! Cured! Rich and possessed of
sight, perfect sight!" he understood her fully for the first time, and
could account for the smile of satisfaction which had just surprised him
on her lips.</p>
<p>He gazed at her, absolutely unable to utter a word; but she went on
speaking, while a low, sinister laugh mingled with her tones: "So this is
avenging justice! It allows us women to be trampled under foot, and holds
its hands in its lap! My vengeance! How I have lauded Nemesis! How
exquisitely my retaliation seemed to have succeeded! And now? It was mere
delusion and deception. He who was blind sees. He who was to perish in
misery is permitted, with a sword at his side, to gloat over our
destruction. Listen, if the good news has not already reached you! I, too,
am condemned to death. But what do I care for myself? Even less than those
to whom we pray and offer sacrifices for the betrayed woman. Now I am
learning to know them! Thus Nemesis thanks me for the lavish gifts I have
bestowed upon her? Just before my end she throws you, the rewarded
traitor, into my way! I must submit to have the hated foe, whose blinding
was the sole pleasure in my ruined life, look me in the face with insolent
joy."</p>
<p>Hermon's quick blood boiled.</p>
<p>With fierce resentment he grasped her hand, which lay on the rope, pressed
it violently in his strong clasp, and exclaimed, "Stop, mad woman, that I
may not be forced to think of you as a poisonous serpent and repulsive
spider!"</p>
<p>Ledscha had vainly endeavoured to withdraw her hand while he was speaking.
Now he himself released it; but she looked up at him in bewilderment, as
if seeking aid, and said sadly: "Once—you know that yourself—I
was different—even as long as I supposed my vengeance had succeeded.
But now? The false goddess has baffled every means with which I sought to
punish you. Who averted the sorest ill treatment from my head? And I was
even defrauded of the revenge which it was my right, nay, my duty, to
exercise."</p>
<p>She finished the sentence with drooping head, as if utterly crushed, and
this time she did not laugh, but Hermon felt his wrath transformed to
sympathy, and he asked warmly and kindly if she would let nothing appease
her, not even if he begged her forgiveness for the wrong he had done her,
and promised to obtain her life, nay, also her liberty.</p>
<p>Ledscha shook her head gently, and gravely answered: "What is left me
without hate? What are the things which others deem best and highest to a
miserable wretch like me?"</p>
<p>Here Hermon pointed to the bridge-builder, bound to the post, saying,
"Yonder man led you away from the husband whom you had wedded, and from
him you received compensation for the love you had lost."</p>
<p>"From him?" she cried furiously, and, raising her voice in a tone of the
most intense loathing: "Ask yonder scoundrel himself! Because I needed a
guide, I permitted him to take me away from my unloved husband and from
the Hydra. Because he would help me to shatter the new and undeserved good
fortune which you—yes, you—do you hear?—enjoyed, I
remained with him among the Gauls. More than one Alexandrian brought me
the news that you were revelling in golden wealth, and the wretch promised
to make you and your uncle beggars if the surprise succeeded. He did this,
though he knew that it was you who took him up from the road and saved his
life; for nothing good and noble dwells in his knavish soul. He yearned
for me, and still more ardently for the Alexandrians' gold. Worse than the
wolf that licked the hand of the man who bandaged its wounds, he would
have shown his teeth to the preserver of his life. I have learned this,
and if he dies here of starvation and thirst he will receive only what he
deserves. He knows, too, what I think of him. The greedy beast of prey was
not permitted even to touch my hand. Just ask him! There he is. Let him
tell you how I listened to his vows of love. Before I would have permitted
yonder wretch to recall to life what you crushed in this heart—"</p>
<p>Here Lutarius interrupted her with a flood of savage, scarcely
intelligible curses, but very soon one of the guards, who came out of the
hut, stopped him with a lash.</p>
<p>When the Gaul, howling under the blows, was silenced, Hermon asked, "So
your mad thirst for vengeance also caused this suicidal attack?"</p>
<p>"No," she answered simply; "but when they determined upon the assault, and
had killed their leader, Belgius, yonder monster stole to their head. So
it happened—I myself do not know how—that they also obeyed me,
and I took advantage of it and induced them to begin with your house and
Archias's. When they had captured the royal palaces, they intended to
assail the Temple of Demeter also."</p>
<p>"Then you thought that even the terrible affliction of blindness would not
suffice to punish the man you hated?" asked Hermon.</p>
<p>"No," she answered firmly; "for you could buy with your gold everything
life offers except sight, while in me—yes, in me—gloom darker
than the blackest night shrouded my soul. Through your fault I was robbed
of all, all that is clear to woman's heart: my father's house, his love,
my sister. Even the pleasure in myself which had been awakened by your
sweet flatteries was transformed by you into loathing."</p>
<p>"By me?" cried Hermon, amazed by the injustice of this severe reproach;
but Ledscha answered his question with the resolute assertion, "By you and
you alone!" and then impatiently added: "You, who, by your art, could
transform mortal women into goddesses, wished to make me a humiliated
creature, with the rope which was to strangle her about her neck, and at
the same time the most repulsive of creeping insects. 'The hideous, gray,
eight-legged spider!' I exclaimed to myself, when I raised my arms and saw
my shadow on the sunlit ground. 'The spider!' I thought, when I shook the
distaff to draw threads from the flax in leisure hours. 'Your image!' I
said, when I saw spiders hanging in dusty corners, and catching flies and
gnats. All these things made me a horror to myself. And at the same time
to know that the Demeter, on whom you bestowed the features of the
daughter of Archias, was kindling the whole great city of Alexandria with
enthusiasm, and drawing countless worshippers to her sanctuary! She, an
object of adoration to thousands, I—the much-praised beauty—a
horror to myself! This is what fed my desire for vengeance with fresh food
by day and night; this urged me to remain with yonder wretch; for he had
promised, after pillaging the royal palaces, to shatter your Demeter, the
image of the daughter of Archias, which they lauded and which brought you
fame and honour—it was to be done before my eyes—into
fragments."</p>
<p>"Mad woman!" Hermon again broke forth indignantly, and hastily told her
how she had been misinformed.</p>
<p>Ledscha's large black eyes dilated as if some hideous spectre was rising
from the ground before her, while she heard that the Demeter was the work
of Myrtilus and not his; that his friend's legacy had long since ceased to
belong to him, and that he was again as poor as when he was in Tennis
during the time of their love.</p>
<p>"And the blindness?" she asked sadly.</p>
<p>"It transformed life for me into one long night, illumined by no single
ray of light," was the reply; "but, the immortals be praised, I was cured
of it, and it was old Tabus, on the Owl's Nest at Tennis, whose wisdom and
magic arts you so often lauded, who gave the remedy and advice to which I
owe my recovery."</p>
<p>Here he hesitated, for Ledscha had seized the rope with one hand and the
stake at her right with the other, in order not to fall upon her knees;
but Hermon perceived how terribly his words agitated her, and spoke to her
soothingly. Ledscha did not seem to hear him, for while still clinging to
the rope she looked sometimes at the sand at her feet, sometimes up to the
full moon, which was now flooding both sky and earth with light.</p>
<p>At last she dropped it, and said in a hollow tone: "Now I understand
everything. You met her when Bias gave her the bridal dowry which was to
purchase my release from my husband. How it must have enraged her! I
thought of it all, pondered and pondered how to spare her; but through
whom, except Tabus, could I return to Hanno the property, won in battle by
his blood, which he had thrown away for me? Tabus kept the family wealth.
And she—the marriage bond which two persons formed was sacred and
unassailable—the woman who broke her faith with her husband and
turned from him—was an abomination to her. How she loved her sons
and grandsons! I knew that she would never forgive the wrong I did Hanno.
From resentment to me she cured the man whom I hated."</p>
<p>"Yet probably also," said Hermon, "because my blighted youth aroused her
pity."</p>
<p>"Perhaps so," replied Ledscha hesitatingly, gazing thoughtfully into
vacancy. "She was what her demons made her. Hard as steel and gentle as a
tender girl. I have experienced it. Oh, that she should die with rancour
against me in her faithful old heart! She could be so kind!—even
when I confessed that you had won my love, she still held me dear. But
there are many great and small demons, and most of them were probably
subject to her. Tabus must have learned through them how deeply I offended
her son Satabus, and how greatly his son Hanno's life was darkened through
me. That is why she thwarted my vengeance, and her spirits aided her. Thus
all these things happened. I suspected it when I heard that she had
succumbed to death, which I—yes, I here—had held back from her
with severe toil through many a sleepless night. O these demons! They will
continue to act in the service of the dead. Wherever I may go, they will
pursue me and, at their mistress's bidding, baffle what I hope and desire.
I have learned this only too distinctly!"</p>
<p>"No, Ledscha, no," Hermon protested. "Every power ceases with death, even
that of the sorceress over spirits. You shall be freed, poor woman! You
will be permitted to go wherever you desire; and I shall model no spider
after your person, but the fairest of women. Thousands will see and admire
her, and—if the Muse aids me—whoever, enraptured by her
beauty, asks, 'Who was the model for this work which inflames the most
obdurate heart?' will be told, 'It was Ledscha, the daughter of Shalit,
the Biamite, whom Hermon of Alexandria found worthy of carving in costly
marble."</p>
<p>Ledscha uttered a deep sigh of relief, and asked: "Is that true? May I
believe it?"</p>
<p>"As true," he answered warmly, "as that Selene, who promised to grant you
in her full radiance the greatest happiness, is now shedding her mild,
forgiving light upon us both."</p>
<p>"The full moon," she murmured softly, gazing upward at the shining disk.</p>
<p>Then she added in a louder tone: "Old Tabus's demons promised me happiness—you
know. It was the spider which so cruelly shadowed it for me on every full
moon, every day, and every night. Will you now swear to model a statue
from me, the statue of a beautiful human being that will arouse the
delight of all who see it? Delight—do you hear?—not loathing—I
ask again, will you?"</p>
<p>"I will, and I shall succeed," he said earnestly, holding out his hand
across the rope. She clasped it, looked up to the full moon again, and
whispered: "This time—I will believe it—you will keep your
promise better than when you were in Tennis. And I—I will cease to
wish you evil, and I will tell you why. Bend your ear nearer, that I may
confess it openly." Hermon willingly obeyed the request, but she leaned
her head against his, and he felt her laboured breathing and the warm
tears that coursed silently down her cheeks as she said, in a low whisper:
"Because the moon is full, and will yet bring me what the demons promised,
and because, though strong, I am still a woman. Happiness! How long ago I
ceased to expect it!—but now-yes, it is what I now feel! I am happy,
and yet can not tell why. My love—oh, yes! It was more ardent than
the burning hate. Now you know it, too, Hermon. And I—I shall be
free, you say? And Tabus, how she lauded rest—eternal rest! Oh
dearest—this sorely tortured heart, too—you can not even
imagine how weary I am!"</p>
<p>Here she was silent, but the man into whose face she was gazing with
loving devotion felt a sudden movement at his side as she uttered the
exclamation.</p>
<p>He did not notice it, for the sweet tone of her voice was penetrating the
inmost depths of his heart. It sounded as though she was speaking from the
happiest of dreams.</p>
<p>"Ledscha!" he exclaimed warmly, extending his arm toward her—but she
had already stepped back from his side, and he now perceived the terrible
object—she had snatched his sword from its sheath, and as, seized by
sudden terror, he gazed at her, he saw the shining blade glitter in the
moonlight and suddenly vanish.</p>
<p>In an instant he swung his agile body over the rope and rushed to her. But
she had already sunk to her knees, and while he clasped her in is arms to
support her, he heard her call his own name tenderly, then murmur it in a
lower tone, and the words "Full moon" and "Happiness" escape her lips.</p>
<p>Then she was silent, and her beautiful head dropped on her breast like a
flower broken by a tempest.</p>
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