CHAPTER NINE.
ISABEL.
As the grey light of morning struggled through the heavy curtained windows of the saloon, Corianton awoke. For some time he lay half bewildered, unable to call to mind what had happened, or where he was, conscious only of the heavy, dull pain in his head. At last, however, the revels of the past night were conjured up by his recollection; but awakening consciousness brought with it a sickening sense of shame. He was lying on a cushioned divan in one of the many recesses opening into the saloon, and near him in a heavy stupor, on the floor, was a young Lamanite girl. He arose and staggered from the recess to seek the open air. In the saloon the lights in the cressets were burning low, but giving out sufficient of their pale, yellow light to reveal the general disorder that prevailed. Fruits, drinking bowls, withered flowers and ottomans lay scattered about promiscuously. The banquet table itself with its burden of fruits and wines and silver furniture, had been overturned, doubtless in the melee which followed the quarrel, of which Corianton had but an indistinct recollection. Near the door leading into the hall were two slaves sleeping in each other's arms—worn out by the services of the past night.
Corianton wended his way through all this debris and at last reached the garden; but neither the cool morning air, the song of birds nor the perfume of flowers brought relief to his aching heart or troubled mind.
He followed the same path down which Joan had led him the night before to the margin of the lake, and stood under the same trees where her loveliness first attracted his attention. Again he saw her half reclining against the tree, once more heard her sweet voice deriding his faith and mocking at the bondage it brought with it—"What, are you not free? Are you in bondage?" she had said; and the humiliation he had experienced by the taunting question still hurt his pride. He sought a bower near at hand, and stretching himself upon a seat beneath it, was soon lost in a fitful slumber.
He was suddenly awakened by some one in a subdued but hurried tone calling his name. Shaking off his sleep at last, he was surprised and not a little troubled at seeing his brother Shiblon standing over him.
"Wake, brother, wake and leave this horrible place!" The speaker was pale and evidently much excited. "Come brother, in the name of God shake off this slumber, and come with me before it is too late!"
"Why Shiblon, what's amiss?"
"Alas, I fear thou art amiss; and your bad deeds are like to bring trouble to us all. Your association with harlots in this place is the talk of the whole city, and everywhere we are threatened with violence—we can no longer preach to the people since they judge us all by your conduct, and condemn us all as hypocrites and bid us be gone. The other brethren have started to leave the city, but I came in search of you; now brother, come—in God's name come! Come, let us leave together; by a penitent life you may yet cancel this great sin—you are young—not yet hardened in vice; I pray you, come!"
Corianton stood before his brother bewildered; to him his speech was incoherent—wild. "Shiblon," said he, "I have not associated with harlots, and though the revels of last night were indiscreet, I am free from such sin as you impute to me."
"God grant that you are, and far be it from me to believe that you add the sin of falsehood to a grosser sin; but brother, the house of Seantum where you have lodged, is the worst den of infamy in all Antionum, and only last night you were seen in loving converse on the shores of this very lake with the harlot Isabel."
"Isabel!" echoed Corianton, "I know and have seen no such woman. I walked through the grounds here last evening with Joan, niece of Seantum, and though of sprightly disposition yet modest, and I believe as virtuous as she is fair."
"Oh, Corianton, in this you are cozened. That woman is not Joan, nor is she Seantum's niece; but a wicked harlot from Siron whose body to the chief men of this city has been as common as their wills have desired it; you have fallen into the trap laid by the Zoramites to destroy the mission in this city. Seantum is one of the leaders of the Zoramites, he it was who sent for this cunning harlot to work your ruin, and in that hoped for the destruction of our mission; and he has succeeded, alas! too well. They have deceived you; and as the devil appears as an angel of light, so this woman assumes a virtue that she possesses not, and by that seeming grace wins you to your destruction. But break this chain, and let us flee."
Before Corianton could reply there was heard a hurrying of feet and they were surrounded by a body of men.
"Take that man," said Seantum, pointing to Shiblon, "and bind him." The young man saw at a glance that neither flight nor resistance would avail anything, and he submitted without an effort at either.
"Corianton," said Seantum, "I overheard the ungracious words of your brother against my house and my kinswoman, and I insist upon a vindication of both before the magistrates of this city; hence I have taken him, but I mean him no further mischief; and does not justice to my great reputation and to my household dictate the taking of this course?"
"Though the sentence fall upon my brother, I must say your cause is just; let him answer it before your judges, and let this experience teach him discretion."
"Corianton," said Shiblon, "I complain not at my captivity, incurred by an anxiety for your good; nor shall I shrink before the judges however unjust or merciless they may be. But take my advice, if you are still free from the sin that reputation sticks on you, lose no time in leaving this man's accursed house; trust not his friendship, for it is poison; believe not in the pretensions of the harlot Isabel, Joan she is not, she is one whose feet go down to death, whose steps take hold on hell!"
"Away with him, and stop his slanderous mouth!" cried Corianton, white with rage. One of those who held him, struck Shiblon a blow in the face.
"Noble Seantum," continued Corianton, "see that yourself and your fair niece be cleared of those slanders, and tell her that there is one Nephite at least who can rise above the prejudices of a narrow faith and not impute lewdness to mirthfulness, nor wantonness to innocent gaiety."
"Be assured, sir," replied the one addressed, "I shall not fail to report you truly to the fair Joan; and you shall not suffer in her estimation by reason of your brother's slander."
"Brother, you are now blinded by your infatuation and anger," said Shiblon, whose spirit neither blows nor prospective harsher treatment could daunt, "but the time will come, when the scales will fall, and you will see the black wickedness of those who have entrapped your unwary feet; farewell, and whatever fate overtakes me, remember I suffer it out of love of you."
He was then dragged away in the direction of the house, followed by
Seantum.