Part 7

Whereupon the Princess Schabak with a burst of high, whinnying laughter, skipped backwards,--and nimbly as a mountain goat--leaped upon a ledge of rock jutting from the cliff-face high above the level of the astonished Israelite's head. At the same time the pannier in the cave fell over and burst open, disgorging a cataract of repulsive creatures; vipers with horns, chameleons with popping eyes, lizards, tarantulas, scorpions and huge brown bats,--which flying round and round in the dazzling sunshine beat about Hazaël's ears with their leathery, hooked wings and entangled themselves in his hair. Deafened, appalled, exhausted and choked with thirst, heat and stench, he fell down swooning,--fortunately for his reason!--within the shadow of the cave....

When he revived, the rocky gorge was filled with the crimson of the sunset. The blazing heat had abated somewhat, the fresh smell of water came to his nostrils, and he groaned and opened his eyes. Then he cried out in thankfulness to God, Who had sent him water in his extremity,--for at the very back of the cave a thread of wet showed on the wall above a natural basin in the rock bordered with delicate black-stemmed green ferns, that contained a draught or two. As the cool liquid flowed down his dried throat; life revived in him newly. He ate of his bread, soaking it, and also took some dates.

Then he found his staff, went up the pass, and squeezed through the narrow aperture. The path now became little more than a goat-walk upon the barren mountain's flank.

A vast prospect spread about and beneath him, upon the right hand of the desert and the Nile beyond it:--with the islands, cities, gardens, palm-groves, temples; the distant cataracts, and the ranges of sandstone and syenite beyond the towns on the Libyan bank. Looking to the east his eye embraced Mount Serbal and the terrible splendour of Sinai, the Tih Mountains and Desert of Sin. Nearer, he looked down upon the Gulf of Heroöpolis,--the town at its mouth, and the city of Clysma upon the plain of the promontory, with the Wilderness of Etnam, and the Arabian Desert beyond.... North to Syria, bordered with the blue fillet of the Mediterranean, his glance ranged; and then with a cool breath fanning his brow, and stirring in the folds of his garments, he lifted up his eyes--and beheld the immense round summit of Mount Derhor, gleaming--white as though hoary with innumerable ages, touched with the fading rose of the sunset and crowned with the evening star. A vast tract of snow-white limestone, not level, but tilted at a steep angle, traversed with innumerable waved ridges, crevices and fissures and resembling a petrified cataract, spread between the traveller and the base of the stupendous dome. An irregular building, like a Pagan tomb or temple, partly in ruins, could be seen upon the dome's eastern side.

Desolation. Not a grass-blade, not a bush, nor tuft of wormwood found nourishment enough to sustain life in all that arid region. Yet here the Athlete of Christ had lived since he quitted Tabenna; eating every third day of dried bread--of which a store was left for him at the oasis every six months--moistening the flint-hard cakes with water fetched from the spring in a heavy stone jar. When the water in the jar came to an end too soon, according to the monks of Tabenna and the Coptish boatmen, the Blessed One would eat the snow if it were winter; or gather the dew,--soaking it up with linen rags, or that porous fungus that much resembles sponge. And these he would suck, to quench the thirst that tormented him, nor would he, were this relief withheld, descend the mountain to fetch more water, until the arrival of the appointed day.

Night fell. So close together and so deep were the fissures in the limestone, that Hazaël determined not to attempt to reach the hermitage until the rising of the moon. So he waited, seated upon a boulder; a strange, wild figure, dishevelled, scarred and bleeding; with battered weapons, and robes dusty and ragged; burning with impatience to do his errand and return to the oasis whilst strength remained to him....

Suddenly the Mount from its base to its summit was girt with sheaves of towering flame of strange and marvellous colours. At the same moment a tumult broke forth of indescribable and hellish violence. Awful voices thundered opprobrium, or wakened the echoes of the precipices and chasms with shouts of hideous laughter, answered by other invisible beings from the fissures in the plain.

"Filthy monk! Scourge of the desert! Master of wild asses! ... Preacher to lizards! ... Awaken! Rise and get you gone out of this place!" ...

"Ah! ... Ah!" ... other unseen beings wailed in chorus: "Shall we never be rid of thee, thou Dweller on the Threshold? Begone! Depart from us! ... Were not the desolate places given to us, and the lands wherein no water flows?" ...

A frightful voice bellowed:

"Drive him forth! Assault him! Torment him with serpents! Worry him with jackals and wild dogs! Borrow the beaks and claws of eagles! Bid the lions devour him! Or if the wild creatures refuse, send against him from the Shrine of Pan another furious Satyr! ... Beleaguer him with phantoms in myriads of forms!"

And dancing fires girt the dome, playing over the moveless waters of the stony cataract, and pale figures of wraith-like mistiness, and dark shapes of mountainous stature seemed to surround and hem it in. And suddenly these appearances sank down and vanished before the terror-stricken sight of Hazaël: with groans, and yells, and blasphemies that caused the hair to stiffen upon his head, and cold sweat to bathe his limbs.

A flood of brilliance dazzled his eyes. From the violet-purple vault of the sky, in which the hosts of heaven were now gleaming, a ray of Light, of indescribable whiteness and luminosity descended, seeming to pierce the roof of the ruined temple beneath Derhor's giant dome. And Hazaël heard the sound of a harp masterfully played, and a man's deep voice singing:

"Let GOD arise! And let His enemies be scattered. And let all those who hate Him flee Before Him! Let them be destroyed Even as smoke is made to disappear; And as wax melteth before the fire-- Let the wicked perish Before GOD!"

When the psalm ceased the column of light faded into a mild bluish radiance that lingered still above the dwelling of the Saint. Such absolute stillness reigned that the sigh of the night-breeze, and the groan of a metal bolt in grooves of stone, came to Hazaël across the distance. A door swung inwards; a light--not supernatural, but that of a palm-torch,--shone across the threshold, and a voice, strong and mellow as that of a young man, cried down across the steep expanse of sinister shadows:

"O man of Alexandria, seeking here a sinner!--draw near if you desire to, and do not be afraid!"

Hearing, Hazaël rose from the rock he sat on, and cried back in a tone of wrath:

"I am not afraid, O Athlete of Christ!--if it be you who speak to me! But wisdom counsels not to ascend this steep of perilous abysses--at least until the rising of the moon!"

Before his voice had ceased to echo amongst the stony waves of the tilted sea of shadows, the strong melodious voice of the solitary called back:

"The crevices are deep, and strange things abide in them!--and there is peril as you say. Yet if in the Name of the Crucified you struck out boldly among these solid waters, nothing of harm would come to you. For neither earthly dangers nor the malevolence of devils, have terrors for one armed with the Might of the Cross."

Hazaël shouted back, with a dinning at his ear-drums:

"The Eternal One, who brought the Chosen forth of this land of Egypt,--will guide me safely to thy door! For it is written that He does not forsake the righteous. Have I not in the strength of mine uprightness this day prevailed against a Succuba? Lo! before me the accursed demon fled, showing feet like the split hoofs of goats."

The voice replied melodiously across the distance:

"Blessed and glorified be He Who delivered thee! Glorified and blessed be Christ Jesus, His only begotten Son! Glorified and blessed be the Paraclete, the Comforter! Praised, blessed and magnified be the Holy Trinity, One in Three! Amen!"

Panting with defiance Hazaël thundered:

"The Lord is One! He is holy and His Name is holy, and the Holy Ones praise Him every day! Selah! Blessed art Thou, Jehovah, the Shield of Abraham! And blessed is he who even as Rabba Jehudah, called the righteous, can lift up both his hands to heaven, affirming that not one of the ten fingers upon them, is guilty of breaking the law of God!"

He ceased, and the voice of the hermit answered, saying:

"Nay!--but a thousand times more blessed is he, who,--not daring to lift a finger,--falls down prostrate before his Master, crying: 'Lord, have mercy upon me a sinner!' For it is written that He pitieth the humble, and turns away His face from the arrogant."

Now the moon, in her last quarter, rose from over the Red Sea. The limestone cataract, illuminated, took on a milky whiteness, in which the innumerable cracks and chasms showed like wavy bands of black. Hazaël grasped his staff and strode upwards, confident that within so many minutes he would be pounding at the ascetic's doors. But a dark cloud, not often seen save in the rainy season, suddenly veiled the lustre of the planet, and the Jew found himself standing in pitchy darkness, upon an ascending ridge between two deep chasms, unable to advance, or to retrace his steps.

Suddenly a gust of wind rushed down a cleft in the mountains, dragging at Hazaël's garments as though with invisible hands. A jagged double flash of violet lightning followed. Dazzled, the Jew trod upon a pebble of limestone; fell--and still retaining his grip upon his staff, found himself sliding towards the brink of the abyss upon his left hand. A deafening peal of thunder preceded a flash still more vivid, which illuminated the depths beneath. With starting eyes Hazaël beheld at the bottom of the gulf--which seemed about to swallow him--the monstrous putrefying body of a creature part-human and part-animal. And the thought of tumbling down to wallow in the Satyr's corruption, and share one tomb with the shag-thighed offspring of unnatural and hideous lust, wrought on the brain of the man so that he shrieked in desperation:

"Save me, O man of Christ!--I perish!"

And heard the voice of the hermit answer calmly:

"Man cannot save, but only Christ!"

Upon which, as the lightning hissed and crackled about him like flights of spears steeped in burning pitch and naphtha, and feeling his strength about to fail, Hazaël groaned out:

"Then pray to thy Christ to deliver me!"

And hearing no answer out of the distance, he resigned himself to despair. But from some source unknown, strength suddenly flowed back into him. His brain cleared, and by a sudden muscular effort he was enabled to draw back his body, rise--and stand upon his feet....

"Thanks,--thanks!" he stammered out, as though to the owner of some hand that had plucked him from peril. Then, in sudden anger, he dug his teeth into his lower lip.

The storm had passed. The calm light of the moon irradiated the immovable cataract of limestone: the Jew traversed the remaining distance safely, and stood before the door of the recluse.

XI

The lotus stems of the pillars had been once crowned by the sculptured heads of long-eyed women. These had in course of ages, by some convulsion of Nature or by the hands of man, been broken off. Their shattered fragments lay scattered near, and the stone beams supporting the roof rested upon the stems crookedly. The door-lintel supported a slab still displaying the winged orb of Ammon Ra. But through the symbol of the Sun had been roughly but deeply chiselled the Sign of the Crucified.

Hazaël knocked upon the heavy doors. Of massive cedar-wood strengthened with bronze plates, they would have resisted the assault of a catapult. The melodious voice said from within:

"If thou that knockest art a being of the Pit, begone unto thy master, Satan! But if thou art a son of man, state thy business and be brief."

And Hazaël cried:

"I am no phantom of the Pit, but the man who but now spoke to thee! Verily, as the God of Israel liveth, I speak truth, and mean no harm! Now open the door, O Athlete of Christ!--for I have a message for thee. But first thou must give me water to drink, for my tongue is stiff with thirst."

Upon which the voice said from within:

"Upon the threshold at thy feet in a wooden bowl, is water."

Hazaël groped with his hands, for the shadow of the wide lintel shrouded the portal in blackness; found the bowl, full to the brim; gave thanks, and swallowed the contents at one long draught. The Athlete's voice spoke again as the Jew replaced the empty bowl, inverted, on the threshold:

"Jew of Alexandria, it had been wiser to have saved some of the water. For until the sun sets again, in fulfilment of my Rule which I have taken on me, I neither open the cell door; nor--unless in prayer to God--or in holy songs glorifying Him, or in prophecies inspired of Him--utter one single word, unless He bids!"

With a fierce surge of anger, overpowering his previous sensations of awe, Hazaël struck his fist upon the solid cedar. He kicked it with his heavy boots of hippo-hide, and beat upon it with his metal-shod staff. No sound issued from within, in answer to entreaties or objurgations. Worn out at length, the Jew sat down upon the threshold. But then the suspicion budded that there might be a rearward door of egress, and he dragged himself to his feet and made the circuit of the place.

In vain his toil. No opening presented itself, except a chink one might barely have thrust a hand through.... Stooping and looking through this orifice he obtained a glimpse of the interior of the dwelling, which was filled with a pale, bluish light.

By this light could be distinguished the figure of the aged Christian ascetic, tall, and so emaciated by fasting and watching as to resemble a skeleton clothed with brown skin. A coarse white cloth which formed his outdoor habit had been laid aside, and clad only in a sleeveless vest of haircloth, he stood bolt upright, with joined uplifted hands, and eyes closed in recollection, in a stone niche built on the left side of the door of the cell; which contained nothing further beyond a mat of woven palm-leaves, a stone water-pot lying on its side empty, and a sickle, possibly used by its owner for cutting leaves and reeds.

There was something so grand and imposing about the venerable figure, with its white hair hanging upon its shoulders like a mantle, and its snowy beard reaching far below the waist, that violent words seemed profanation, and Hazaël remained dumb. The impulse to depart without delay was urgent, when on drawing back his head and standing erect, he became aware that the mysterious ray of celestial radiance, sign of the intimate and wonderful communion between this pure and fiery soul and the Divine Spirit from Whom all souls have emanated, had again descended from the heavens upon the dwelling of the Saint. Venturing again to look in, he found the cell irradiated, and felt a mysterious shock traverse him; realising that the eyes of the Saint had opened, and were gazing upon him from their ambush of white hairs. And they were the fiery eyes of a lion, and the radiant eyes of a child, and the eyes of a man who has seen and talked with Angels, so that it was not possible to support unmoved their scrutiny. Yet they were mild, kind and beneficent; and meeting the eyes that peered at him through the aperture, the old man thrice nodded his head. As who should say:

"Although my Rule prohibits me from speaking, it does not forbid me to listen. Say what is in thy mind, and return to the dwellings of men!"

And Hazaël cried to the anchorite through the wallhole:

"O Athlete of Christ!--I am a Jew, and from the bottom of my soul I hate and loathe the Christians, but thou art a just and virtuous man! Now hear my tale!"

The ascetic nodded as though replying:

"Say on, thou hater of Christians! but be not over tedious. For all my time I need for prayer."

And Hazaël cried:

"Listen then! My youth was spent at the town of Acanthon on Lower Nile, my father being a Rab, an interpreter of the Scriptures, and a pleader before the Courts. Small was his wealth, yet great his name, being descended in the male line from Ben-Hadad, King of Damascus, and in his veins on the female side flowed the Royal Blood of Israel. And one day he was carried home to our house dead!--having been struck upon the forehead by a beam of cedar carried through the Lentil Market on the back of a camel led by a Copt. And the bystanders told me concerning the Copt;--that seeing my father fallen and the blood from the wound covering his head, the camel-driver mocked him, crying: 'Which wouldst thou rather have, O Rab? The beam thou hast in thine eye now, or a mote? Answer!' And child as I was, I took an oath to be revenged for that man's hard-heartedness on all Christians. And to this day I have faithfully kept that oath."

He paused for breath and the recluse now answered:

"I know it, O Hazaël! Thou hast been a very scourge of Satan to the Servants of the Lord!"

And Hazaël cried back:

"Hear again, O Athlete of Christ! My mother married again, and my step-father was cruel, and I fled from the beatings and the evil words, to Alexandria. Awhile I hung about the quays, living on stray scraps thrown me there, and in the Jews Quarter, and then I met a noble man, a Roman in the Public Service,--who took me into his household, and fed and sheltered me. I grew up under his roof, and presently became his steward, and zealously I served him, using my power when I might, to keep that oath of mine. And knowing not that my patron had secretly become a Christian,--I brought upon him Ruin, Dishonour, Imprisonment and Death. Dost thou hear?"

The hermit returned mildly:

"Unhappy man, I hear thee. Thine excuse must be, thou hadst no thought of evil towards thy friend!"

"No thought, God He knows! And whether my patron suspected the truth, that I know not. But to the very last--he loved and trusted me! And when he had suffered the penalty of decapitation for his faith--torture being spared him in consideration of great services rendered to the Empire,--I stole his body secretly under cover of night. In the crypt of a deserted church it was reverently burned to ashes. These I placed in an urn--and swore an oath upon the urn in the name of the God of Israel,--that I and my sons and my sons' sons,--while there remains a living male of the blood of Hazaël--will be Keeper of the Ashes and Guardians of their Shrine! And I from the Abode of Shadows, the Lord Most High permitting!--will stretch forth mine hand upon those that descend from me--and counsel them aright! And when the last male of the race hath served and passed,--the debt shall be paid--and I cleansed of blood-guilt towards the man who was my friend!"

"The prayer being made from a repentant heart, hath reached the Throne of the Highest. Is that all thou hast to say, O Jew?"

Hazaël cried angrily to the anchorite through the wall-hole:

"Not so! For I have taken this journey to bring thee a message from my master, the noble Philoremus Fabius, late Prætor of the Taxes of Egypt at Alexandria, who is now amongst the Shades."

From the tangled ambush of his snow-white hair, fixing his radiant eyes upon the fierce eyes glaring through the wall-hole, the Athlete of Christ demanded:

"Was the man baptised a Christian?"

Hazaël answered roughly:

"Have I not said to thee but now,--that without having formally embraced the Faith of the Crucified, or received the waters of baptism,--Philoremus testified to Christianity, and suffered the penalty. Melittus, Abbot of Scete, Peter, the Patriarch of Alexandria, the monks Philip, Ammon and Geta, Theodore and Pæsius and others, underwent death by torture on the same day. In consideration of his great services to Rome, Philoremus suffered only decapitation by the sword. And I am commanded of him to entreat thee to pray that his sins may be forgiven. And that for him the Hand that was pierced may open the Gate of Hope! Dost thou comprehend? Hast thou heard distinctly?"

The head of the Saint inclined in assent.

"And--thou wilt pray as he desired?"

"Ay, if thou consent to forgive the Copt who slew the Rab thy father many years ago. For I declare to thee by the light that is vouchsafed me, that the blow from the beam was given unwittingly; and those who told thee that the man mocked, lied. And cease from saying and working evil against the Church of Christ. For dear to the Lord are His servants!"

And the Jew, struggling with himself, promised; and then cried:

"Tell me, O holy man! what is this Gate of Hope? ... Shall my master be admitted? ... Or--hath he already entered therein? ... I know that thou hast power to vanquish devils, and canst see beyond the Three Veils that baffle human vision. Therefore, answer me, I pray!"

The aged hands stiffened in the attitude of supplication. The eyes of the Saint looked upwards, seeming to pierce through the roof of stone, from which great bats hung in clusters, into Infinite Immensity. Moments passed and Hazaël waited. But when an hour had gone by:

"Wilt thou not speak?" he cried angrily.

There was no answer. Looking more narrowly he could not observe that the breast of the rigid upright figure lifted or sank with the natural act of respiration. He found himself shuddering with terror lest the anchorite should be dead. The weight of vast solitudes peopled only by eagles, bats and diabolical phantoms descended upon him crushingly. And in the voice of a suppliant he entreated:

"In the name of the Most High, give me a sign that thou livest!"

The hands fell apart. The upturned eyes quivered. A long sigh heaved the wide emaciated chest, and the great prominent ribs of the fleshless brown body, tenanted by the fiery soul of the great Athlete of Christ. Without otherwise stirring he reached down, seized a small harp from its place in the niche behind him, poised it upon his breast, swept the strings with his fleshless hands; and chanted in the powerfully melodious voice that had thundered upon the ears of the Jew down the cataract of limestone:

"Not through the wisdom of strange words: Not by the power of incantations Have the children of Christ acquired the Mystery of Life. Nay! but by the power of Faith Given to us by God, Who is the Lord and Master of all!