“Yes,” feebly articulated the woman; “he is a fearful man—a murderer. Do not leave me with him”—and her arms clung still more closely about the fair neck as if for protection.
“He shall not trouble you more,” said Seti emphatically, as he showed himself. “But now take some food,”—and he beckoned the nurse forward.
Supported by Rachel from behind, Miriam supped from a spoon at intervals with apparent relish, till at length her eyelids again crept slowly together and she was gently laid back to her unfinished slumbers.
“She will do well, but must not relapse again,” said Seti: and turning to the leech, “Keep on as you have begun—we will take the responsibility. I confirm all that this young man has promised. He will, I understand, remain with you till I can accompany the lady home, and come back with some men to relieve him and you. Of course, after what the sick woman has said of her husband, we are justified in excluding him from the house. Do not allow him to enter under any pretense. If he insists, threaten him with the police.”
As Aleph put up the bars of the street-door behind Rachel and her escort, he felt as if he were barring out a sunbeam. There is nothing like a human face of the diviner type to light up a poor and dark house. Aleph did not realize how poor and dark that sick house was in itself till Rachel had left it and he had again placed himself at the bedside. Here he sat for quite a time lost in thought till, suddenly, he became aware that Miriam was awake and with wide eyes of placid wonder was gazing at him. At a sign from him the nurse came forward with more food and drink, supported her while he gently put to her lips at intervals a little of both, and then gently laid her down, her drooping eyes still seeking his face, to renewed slumber. This occurred again before Seti appeared with three strong and resolute looking men—who being old servants of Alexander and well known to Miriam in former days, were thought most likely to give her a sense of security by their presence.
Seti and Aleph returned to Rachotis together.
They had scarcely turned away from the house before Antis came out from a recess across the street and stole after them—at a distance, but so as to keep them in sight. And they were not without particular notice from others. Two such commanding figures as to stature and bearing were not a common sight in Alexandria; and so the men whom they met would sometimes turn and gaze after them. One of these did more than stop and gaze. He followed—followed on one side of the street as Antis was following on the other.
I wonder what he meant! Was he a friend or an enemy? Or was it merely idleness and curiosity that prompted the following?
These latter make a motor of considerable power; sometimes even of fully as much power as any of our celebrated modern motors, or those mysterious ones used in the construction of the pyramids. And it certainly was in daily use in Egypt among all classes at the time of our narrative, and long before. Before the Ptolemies, before the Pharaohs, before the Dispersion, before Tubal Cain—in fact there is some reason to think that this motor was invented by the first man (some say by the first woman; but this is a base slander), and was from him handed down to all ages and countries. How else can we account for its omnipresence!
So it is by no means incredible that the following of Aleph just spoken of was not due to hostility. I hope it was not. I hope it did not mean mischief. Still I confess to some fears. Somehow I begin to feel an interest in that young man; and if any harm should come to him it would trouble me not a little.