The girl retreated, with a look half of awe, half of doubt, at the lofty pretensions of her mistress, and returned with old Miriam, keeping, however, prudently behind her, in order to test as little as possible the power of her own amulet by avoiding the basilisk eye which had terrified her.
Miriam came in, and advancing to the proud beauty, who remained seated, made an obeisance down to the very floor, without, however, taking her eyes for an instant off Hypatia’s face.
Her countenance was haggard and bony, with broad sharp-cut lips, stamped with a strangely mingled expression of strength and sensuality. Put the feature about her which instantly fixed Hypatia’s attention, and from which she could not in spite of herself withdraw it, was the dry, glittering, coal-black eye which glared out from underneath the gray fringe of her swarthy brows, between black locks covered with gold coins. Hypatia could look at nothing but those eyes; and she reddened, and grew all but unphilosophically angry, as she saw that the old woman intended her to look at them, and feel the strange power which she evidently wished them to exercise.
After a moment’s silence, Miriam drew a letter from her bosom, and with a second low obeisance presented it.
‘From whom is this?’
‘Perhaps the letter itself will tell the beautiful lady, the fortunate lady, the discerning lady,’ answered she, in a fawning, wheedling tone. ‘How should a poor old Jewess know great folks’ secrets?’
‘Great folks?—’
Hypatia looked at the seal which fixed a silk cord round the letter. It was Orestes’; and so was the handwriting.... Strange that he should have chosen such a messenger! What message could it be which required such secrecy?
She clapped her hands for the maid. ‘Let this woman wait in the ante-room.’ Miriam glided out backwards, bowing as she went. As Hypatia looked up over the letter to see whether she was alone, she caught a last glance of that eye still fixed upon her, and an expression in Miriam’s face which made her, she knew not why, shudder and turn chill.
‘Foolish that I am! What can that witch be to me? But now for the letter.’