Ardath - Marie Corelli (love story novels in english .txt) 📗

these,—and for my present errand ‘tis but to say that a Priest of the Inner Temple waits without, desirous of instant speech with the most illustrious Sahluma.”

 

“A Priest of the Inner Temple!” echoed the Laureate wonderingly, . .

“By my faith, a most unwelcome visitor! … What business can he have with me?”

 

“Nay, that I know not”—responded Irenya calmly—“He hath come hither, so he bade me say, by command of The Absolute Authority.”

 

Sahluma’s face flushed and he looked annoyed. Then taking Theos by the arm he turned away from the terrace, and reentered his apartment, where he flung himself full length on his couch, pillowing his handsome head against a fold of glossy leopard skin which formed a most becoming background for the soft, dark oval beauty of his features.

 

“Sit thee down, my friend!” he said glancing smilingly at Theos, and signing to him to take possession of a luxurious lounge-chair near him.. “If we must needs receive this sanctified professor of many hypocrisies, we will do it with suitable indifference and ease. Wilt thou stay here with us, Irenya,” he added, stretching out one arm and catching the maiden round the waist in spite of her attempted resistance.. “Or art thou in a froward mood, and wilt thou go thine own proud way without so much as a consoling kiss from Sahluma?”

 

Irenya looked full at him, a repressed anger blazing in her large black eyes.

 

“Let my lord save his kisses for those who value them!” she said contemptuously, “‘Twere pity he should waste them upon me, to whom they are unmeaning and therefore all unwelcome!”

 

He laughed heartily, and instantly loosened her from his embrace.

 

“Off, off with thee, sweet virtue! … fairest prude!” he cried, still laughing.. “Live out thy life an thou wilt, empty of love or passion—count the years as they slip by, leaving thee each day less lovely and less fit for pleasure, … grow old,—and on the brink of death, look back, poor child, and see the glory thou hast missed and left behind thee! … the light of love and youth that, once departed, can dawn again no more!”

 

And lifting himself slightly from his cushions he kissed his hand playfully to the girl, who, as though suddenly overcome by a sort of vague regret, still lingered, gazing at him, while a faint color crept through her cheeks like the deepening hue on the leaves of an opening rose. Sahluma saw her hesitation, and his face grew yet more radiant with malicious mirth.

 

“Hence.. hence, Irenya!” he exclaimed—“Escape temptation quickly while thou mayest! Support thy virgin pride in peace! … thou shalt never say again Sahluma’s kisses are unwelcome! The Poet’s touch shall never wrong or sanctify thy name!—thou art safe from me as pillared icicles in everlasting snow! Dear little one, be happy without love if that be possible! … nevertheless take heed thou do not weakly clamor in the after-years for once rejected joy!—Now bid yon waiting Priest attend me,—tell him I can but spare a few brief moments audience.”

 

Irenya’s head drooped,—Theos saw tears in her eyes,—but she managed to restrain them, and with something of a defiant air she made her formal obeisance and withdrew. She did not return again, but a page appeared instead, ushering in with ceremonious civility a tall personage, clad in flowing white robes and muffled up to the eyes in a mantle of silver tissue,—a majestic, mysterious, solemn-looking individual, who, pausing on the threshold of the apartment, described a circle in the air with a small staff he carried, and said in monotonous accents: “By the going-in and passing-out of the Sun through the Gates of the East and the Gates of the West,—by the Vulture of Gold and White Lotus and the countless virtues of Nagaya, may peace dwell in this house forever!”

 

“Agreed to with all my heart!” responded Sahluma, carelessly looking up from his couch but making no attempt to rise, . . “Peace is an excellent thing, most holy father!”

 

“Excellent!” returned the Priest slowly advancing and undoing his mantle so that his face became fully visible,—“So truly excellent indeed, that at times it is needful to make war in order to insure it.”

 

He sat down, as he spoke, in a chair which was placed for him at Sahluma’s bidding by the page who had ushered him in, and he maintained a grave silence till that youthful servitor had departed. Theos meanwhile studied his countenance with some curiosity,—it was so strangely impassive, yet at the same time so full of distinctly marked intellectual power. The features were handsome but also singularly repulsive,—they were rendered in a certain degree dignified by a full, dark beard which, however, failed entirely to conceal the receding chin, and compressed, cruel mouth,—the eyes were keen and crafty and very clear,—the forehead was high and intelligent, and deeply furrowed with lines that seemed to be the result of much pondering over close and cunning calculation, rather than the marks of profound, unselfish, and ennobling thought. The page having left the room, Sahluma began the conversation:

 

“To what unexpected cause, most righteous sir, am I indebted for the honor of this present visit? Methinks I recognize the countenance of the famous Zel, the High-Priest of the Sacrificial Altar—if so, ‘tis marvellous so great a man should venture forth alone and unattended, to the house of one who loves not priestly company, and who hath at best for all professors of religion a somewhat indifferent welcome!”

 

The Priest smiled coldly.

 

“Most rightly dost thou speak, Sahluma”—he answered, his measured, metallic voice seeming to strike a wave of chilling discord through the air, “and most frankly hast thou thus declared one of thy many deficiencies! Atheist as thou art and to that manner born, thou art in very deed outside the pale of all religious teaching and consolement, . . nevertheless there is much gentle mercy shown thee by the Virgin Priestess of Nagaya”.. here he solemnly bent his head and made the rapid sign of a Circle on his breast, . . “who, knowing thy great genius, doth ever strive with thoughtful zeal to draw thee closely within the saving Silver Veil! Yet it is possible that even her patience with thy sins may tire at last,—wherefore while there is time, offer due penance to the offended gods and humble thy stiff heart before the Holy Maid, lest she expel thee from her sight forever.” He paused, . . a satirical, half-amused smile hovered round Sahluma’s delicate mouth—his eyes flashed.

 

“All this is the mere common rhetoric of the Temple Craft”—he said indolently.. “Why not, good Zel, give plainer utterance to thine errand?—we know each other’s follies well enough to spare formalities! Lysia has sent thee hither, . . what then? … what says the beauteous Virgin to her willing slave?”

 

An undertone of mockery rang through the languid silvery sweetness of his accents, and the Priest’s dark brows knitted in an irritated frown.

 

“Thou art over-flippant of speech, Sahluma!” he observed austerely. “Take heed thou be not snared into misfortune by the glibness of thy tongue! Thou dost speak of the chaste Lysia with unseemly lightness.—learn to be reverent, and so shalt thou be wiser!”

 

Sahluma laughed and settled himself more easily on his couch, turning in such a manner as to look the stately Zel full in the face. They exchanged one glance, expressive as it seemed of some mutual secret understanding,—for the Priest coughed as though he were embarrassed, and stroked his beard deliberately with one hand in an endeavor to hide the strange smile that, despite his efforts to conceal it, visibly lightened his cold eyes to a sudden tigerish brilliancy.

 

“The mission with which I am charged,” he resumed presently,—“is to thee, Chief Laureate of the realm, and runs as followeth: Whereas thou hast of late avoided many days of public service in the Temple, so that those among the people who admire thee follow thine ill example, and absent themselves also with equal readiness,—the Priestess Undefiled, the noble Lysia, doth tonight command thy presence as a duty not to be foregone. Therefore come thou and take thy part in the Great Sacrifice, for these late tumults and disaster in the city, notably the perplexing downfall of the Obelisk, have caused all hearts to fail and sink for very fear. The river darkens in its crimson hue each hour by passing hour,—strange noises have been heard athwart the sky and in the deeper underground, . . and all these drear unwonted things are so many cogent reasons why we should in solemn unison implore the favor of Nagaya and the gods whereby further catastrophes may be perchance averted. Moreover for motives of most urgent state-policy it is advisable that all who hold place, dignity, and renown within the city should this night be seen as fervent supplicants before the Sacred Shrine,—so may much threatening rebellion be appeased, and order be restored out of impending confusion. Such is the message I am bidden to convey to thee,—

furthermore I am required to bear back again to the High Priestess thy faithful promise that her orders shall be surely and entirely obeyed. Thou art not wont”.. and a pale sneer flitted over his features.. “to set her mandate at defiance.”

 

Sahluma bit his lips angrily, and folded his arms above his head with a lazy yet impatient movement.

 

“Assuredly I shall be present at the Service,” he said curtly..

“There needed no such weighty summoning! ‘Twas my intention to join the ranks of worshippers tonight, though for myself I have no faith in worship, . . the gods I ween are deaf, and care not a jot whether we mortals weep or sing. Nevertheless I shall look on with fitting gravity, and deport myself with due decorum throughout the ceremonious Ritual, though verily I tell thee, reverend Zel, ‘tis tedious and monotonous at best, . . and concerning the poor maiden-sacrifice, it is a shuddering horror we could well dispense with.”

 

“I think not so,”.. replied the Priest calmly. “Thou, who art well instructed in the capricious humors of men, must surely know how dearly the majority of them love the shedding of blood,—‘tis a clamorous brute-instinct in them which must be satisfied. Better therefore that we, the anointed Priests, should slay one willing victim for the purposes of religion, than that they, the ignorant mob, should kill a thousand to gratify their lust of murder. An unresentful, all-loving Deity would be impossible of comprehension to a mutually hating and malignant race of beings,—all creeds must be accommodated to the dispositions of the million.”

 

“Pardon me…” suddenly interrupted Theos, “I am a stranger, and in a great measure ignorant of this city’s customs, . . but I confess I am amazed to hear a Priest uphold so specious an argument! What! … must divine Religion be dragged down from its pure throne to pander to the selfish passions of the multitude?

… because men are vile, must a vile god be invented to suit their savage caprices? … because men are so cruel, must the unseen Creator of things be delineated as even more barbarous than they, in order to give them some pietistical excuse for wickedness?—I ask these questions not out of wanton curiosity, but for the sake of instruction!”

 

The haughty Zel turned upon him in severe astonishment.

 

“Sir,” he said—“Stranger undoubtedly thou art,—and so bold a manner of speech most truly savors of the utterly uneducated western barbarian! All wise and prudent governments have learned that a god fit for the adoration of men must be depicted as much like men as possible,—any absolutely superhuman attributes are unnecessary to the character of a useful deity, inasmuch as