SPIRITS OF THE DEEP
Saronia the priestess was agitated. She had resolved in her mind the events of the past few days. 'Why was Chios within the grove?' She could solve the problem—foolish man! 'What demon prompted him—what fiend lured him to the verge of death? Could I but see him, warn him, for my prescience tells me he will attempt this thing again. Rash man! How can I save him? Whom can I trust? None!
'Here am I surrounded by the glory of the mightiest Temple, with pillars rising to heaven, whose summit is crowned with the grandest sculptures of Greece; but the birds which nestle in their carvings are freer than Saronia. I walk in power; every behest is law and none dispute me—yet, for the one great thing I would do, that I dare not! What, then, is power—queenly power like mine? It is hateful. I sought it not. It was thrust on me, and I wear it like a band of iron. But cease—cease, my soul! Well dost thou know the smouldering fire of life's accumulated love for Chios pent up within thee. Why dost thou tempt blasphemous Saronia to further sin? Hush! Down, dark spirit! quail, ye rebel fires, smoulder till my days be spent—then, with the freedom I covet, I will luxuriate in joy. Until such time, let me fulfil my destiny. Come on, ye clouds of darkness, hide him from my view! Soul, hear me! Crush to the lowest ebb this fire which rises ever and anon into fiercest flame, and combats with my reason! I am divided against myself.
'O goddess, hear me! Let my prayers like sweet incense rise! Bring me strength!...'
A sullen roar of distant thunder broke on her ears, as if the gods were speaking from the mountains, looming landward past the Temple city.
'Hark! Diana's voice! I will to augury.'
She sped to the window. Naught through the darkness could she see. Suddenly forked lightning winged its course to the east, another flash swept nearer by, and the pillars of the great Temple stood out, lit up with fiery hue. The night-birds flew in wild commotion, shrieking as they went, crying with a solemn wail.
She stood back. Too well she knew the meaning of those sounds, the language by which the invisible speaks to the mortal.
A lightning-flash was seen across the Temple door, another line of fire crossed it from an opposite direction, as if a mighty guardian spirit stood there with sword aflame. A burst of thunder and a mighty crash, and she knew the building had been struck with an arrow from heaven.
Her reason pointed a power at work who dared insult the sacred place—some god greater than Diana warred against her, degrading her home. This was the augury the priestess drew, and wondered greatly at the sign. It was a revelation to her—a spark of virgin light, dim as the faintest dawn. But it shook her faith, and she spread out her hands as one wandering in the night.
Then she laid herself down in the gloom, and her spirit moved out to Chios. She longed to speak to him.
Across the open window a shadow passed blacker than the darkness. She arose and looked out; naught could she see—all was silent. Then a faint voice like a whisper came from the parapet:
'Saronia, it is Chios!'
And in a moment he was beside her, and, throwing aside his mantle, stood before her in all his strength.
She was appalled, but knew it would be death to both to utter the faintest cry, and with horrible calmness the priestess murmured:
'What, by all the gods, brings thee here?'
'Love! Life without seeing, speaking to thee, is worthless—worse than valueless! I scaled the Parabolus walls, I did the same by yonder parapet; and, by Jove! were they high as Mount Coressus, I would have come. I passed the guards, saw the Temple's frowning brow; the lightning lit my path, and the thundering echoes on the midnight winds were music to my soul. I gazed towards this resting-place, and, when the heavens were lit with flame, saw thee standing alone at the window. 'Twas enough for me. My spirit bounded here long before my body came. Didst thou not feel my influence?'
'Yes, I thought of thee; but thy presence here is too awful to contemplate.'
'No, no, dearest love! this is our fate. Thou art my complement; we cannot long remain asunder. Thine essence is a part of myself; thou art my affinity, my counterpart, that which makes my whole, my sun. Remove it, and the whole system is shaken, and wanders into chaos and oblivion. Had I a thousand lives, not one should be reserved; all should be thrown into the balance for thee.'
He caught her in his arms, and his lips met hers.
'Darling, art thou safe whilst I am here?'
'I am safe from mortals, but not from the ire of the goddess. Her great invisible spirit cannot be deceived; all that is enacted here she knows and records.'
'True, dearest; but even Venus loved.'
'Yes; but Diana is cold and chaste. This night bespeaks my fall. To love is disobedience; for me to disobey is dire rebellion.'
'No, no, girl! it is not so! it cannot be! The Being who created us implanted this love; it cannot be born of sin. Man makes laws, and man often breaks them, without calling down the anger of the gods. Lovest thou me, Saronia?'
'Ah, Chios, that is my crime! What brought thee to the grove of Hecate?'
'Thou.'
'I?'
'Yes, Saronia—to see thee on a most important errand. I strove to find thee in the wood.'
'I thought as much. What was thy mission?'
Resting himself beside her on a couch o'erlaid with gold, he said:
'Canst bear surprise?'
'I think so.'
'Then hear;' and, whispering softly, he said: 'One day there came a man, a minstrel, to my home; sad as the waves telling story of storm were the strains of his song, and sweet as the clear running brook were the sounds from his lyre. He sang of a far-away land. Hast thou heard of the lonely West, where the isles of the Britons lie circled in purple mists?'
'Yes.'
'He sang of a princess priestess who stood at the shrine of their gods. He spoke of a Roman who came to that land and stole the pure heart and the hand of this beautiful girl, and bore her away to the Cyclades, and, further away, to the Tyrian Seas, to a resting-place in Sidon.'
'And what became of her, Chios?'
'Thou shalt hear. Their wedded life was brief. The Roman forsook her. She died of a broken heart, and her babe survived.'
'How sad!' said Saronia.
'Wouldst thou know the name of the British girl?'
'I would.'
''Twas Saronia.'
'Saronia!' gasped the priestess, and, uttering a piercing shriek, she fell back into the arms of Chios.
He heard footsteps approaching. He knew he must fly. Then, laying her on a couch, he kissed her lovingly, saying:
'We must part, but will meet again. Saronia, dost hear me? I will see thee at the Temple service: an oleander in thy bosom, I come to thee; a myrtle flower, thou comest to me. Farewell, loved one!'
And he plunged into the darkness, and the thunders roared as if the heavens would rend themselves in twain.
The priestess nerved herself and reclined listlessly. When the attendant priestesses entered, she was pale as the white silk enfolding her form.
'What ails the noble lady?' said the foremost of the beautiful maidens.
'It has passed,' said Saronia. 'Summon the guard; bid them go to the Temple and bring me word if disaster has fallen and smitten it. Hear ye the mighty voices of the gods! See the quivering messengers of fire! Haste away and bring me news!'
Then, falling into one of her mysterious reveries, from which no priestess dared disturb her, they noiselessly glided from the room one by one, each bearing a lamp of gold, and Saronia was left alone.
Soon the priestesses returned, with blanched cheeks, saying:
'Lady of Diana, at thy bidding the priests, with escort, entered the sacred edifice, and discovered through the roof the fated bolt had flown, wrecked the altar, and rent the veil; but the statue of the great goddess remains unscathed. The watchmen are dead, blackened corpses. The High Priest, chief of the Megalobyzi, has gone to the Temple. What shall we do?'
For a moment the mighty priestess was lost in thought—'twas but for a moment; then she raised herself and regained sublime dignity, saying:
'Altar and veil, the work of men's hands, are resistless as man to their fate; but the image of she who is highest in heaven and strongest in hell is safe from the lightnings, the storm, and the warrings of all the invisible hosts which encircle us. And we, her own children, are safe in her keeping—safe in the shade of Diana Triformis. Pour out your prayers, let them rise to the heavens and spread round your homestead and down to the underworlds. Pour out oblations! Chant forth your praise-hymns for mercy on mercy rolling forth like the surging of mightiest billows! Farewell, maidens of the goddess, farewell!'
Saronia that night was sleepless. She had again saved the life of Chios. She had dissembled. To have done otherwise would have been to be the murderess of Chios. Thus thought she.
By the light of the dimly burning lamp she looked like a tigress at bay. Great clouds flitted sullenly across her face, and her eyes were dark as the night, and darker they grew till the shadows which fell on her were as light to them.
The lamp burned low, but she heeded not. Its dying flame pleased her, and the shadows grew deeper, until her form sank into the darkness.
A great war raged within her. It was a battle-ground on which were arrayed spirits, good and evil, fighting for the citadel of her soul. The light from her mistress goddess was hidden, and reason cold as snow sat enthroned upon that lofty mind.
Her duty was to serve as heretofore, but lurking love rose up in mighty flame enveloping her. She could see Chios only, feel the pressure of his lips, hear the sound of his voice speaking of love, of the minstrel and of the bride of Britain.
'Who was that mysterious woman named Saronia?
'What caused that strange suspicion and the piercing cry? None other than that by some peculiar affinity I realized that it was she that bore me into this world.
'Oh that I could have heard the end of the story! Cruel destiny shattered me at the harbour mouth, and I lie stranded a lonely wreck on a bleak shore and tainted with rebellion. Shall I fail now? No; Saronia shall build another self out of the shattered parts. I will arise, shake the stupor from me, stretch out my arms into the darkness. I will robe for divination,' and pointing her finger towards the dead lamp, it sprang into flame, casting a glare around the room.
She arose, cast aside her snowy dress of whitened silk, draped herself in darkest shade, girt her waist with a diamond zone black as night, over her shoulders a mantle hung—a mantle of sable hue studded with stars of silver and gold. On her breast she wore the Ephesian symbols of Air and Water, Earth and Life, and Death. Her eyes shot glances like serpents at war, her bosom was upheaved with the strongest emotion, and she moved to the place where the burning lamp stood, seized it, and stood by an altar raised to the goddess of Hades.
For a moment only was she motionless; then she raised high aloft her jewelled hands, brought them to her lips, kissed them to the Queen of Heaven, and stretched them earthwards to the underworld—to Hecate, the Queen of Hell. Her head lay back; her eyes shone out with mystic sheen; her raven tresses trailed the floor; her gloomy garments lay in graceful folds, dark as the midnight sky without a star or moon, and standing thus, she invoked the goddess Hecate.
This done, she lit the altar's sacred fire, and incense burnt until the room was filled with odour and the light from the golden lamp grew dim.
Her lips parted, and a silvery voice issued, murmuring softly:
Spirits of the mighty ocean,
Ye who lie beneath the waters,
Down—down—fathoms deep!
Ye who roam 'twixt here and Sidon,
Ye who lure the ships to ruin,
Ye who haunt the fated vessel,
Lighting up her masts and cordage
With your quenchless tongues of fire;
Stormy petrels of the sea-foam,
Swiftest of your countless legions,
Appear! Appear!
'Ye are come! Hear me!
'A Roman bore from Britons' land, stole from thence with artful wiles, a maiden blessed with rarest beauty—cheeks of olive, raven hair, eyes of darkest midnight hue, soul as pure as the morning light. He took her to Sidon. He left her—he left her and her child. Troop your way with speed to Sidon. Solve the story which I tell you. Bring me answer from Phœnicia.'
The spirits of the deep bent low their shadowy forms; one by one quickly snatched a grain of burning incense from the altar fire, placed the sparks upon their awful brows, rose together, met the storm-wind howling fiercely, passed it faster than conception, skimmed the foaming crests of billows, swooped again o'er struggling biremes with their crews of doomed seamen. Flew they on with awful swiftness, till the air waves left behind them wound the earth in many circles, till the silent city Sidon slept beneath their hovering pinions; glanced their message to the spirit—Spirit Prince of Ashtoreth. Gained their answer, sailed they westward to Ionia, faster than the coming day-dawn; stood before the great Saronia; hailed her priestess of Diana; whispered forth with frightful meaning:
'Thou thyself, from her begotten, standest first amongst all women. She, thy mother, princess, priestess, died uncared for, unbeloved—died a rebel to our goddess, worshipping the Jewish Christ—name we scarcely dare to mention.'
Saronia beckoned them away, and when they had fled a tremor seized her; she staggered to a seat, muttering:
'I, also, am a rebel, and worship Eros.'
Starting to her feet, she said:
'Who is this Christ?'
Stretching her arms out into the darkness, she cried:
'Saronia, Saronia, the Saronide, where art thou—my mother who bore me? Let me touch thy hand! Speak to me—to me!'
But she grasped the empty space; not even the echo of a whisper fell. Then she cried again:
'Thou art beyond my plane, or thou wouldst come to me. Thou art greater than I. Hear me, ye spirits of the air! Listen, spirits of lands and seas! Hearken, ye spirits of Elysium and Hades! Here in the darkness, here in the womb of night, here near the birth of the early dawn, here with a soul storm-tossed and driven, I swear I will find her. Her God shall be mine, and where she riseth I will follow. O light, O truth, O love, let me climb your ladders of gold!'
The dawn appeared in the east, breaking the gray on the ocean's rim, and the birds sang forth from the trees in the Sacred Grove.