“Pray here, my daughter,” said Barbillus in a deep voice; “beseech the all-merciful mother of the universe to enlighten our spirits; mine, that I may see and speak, thine, that thou mayest hear and learn. I will leave thee to meditate alone, fair Cornelia.” And he quitted the room, slowly closing the tapestried door.
Hardly had he left her, when Cornelia sank on her knees in fervent devotion. The mystical surroundings, the dim blue light, the perfume of incense,[253] which loaded the air with stupifying sweetness, and the veiled and silent presence of the divinity—all combined to impress her profoundly. Her heart was full to bursting.
Suddenly the air was filled with a sound as of the music of the spheres. A delicious harmony seemed to proceed from the walls, the floor beneath her, and the statue itself, and to cradle her soul in lulling witchery; while, at the same instant, pale tongues of flame broke out over the two censers and danced fitfully, but, as it seemed, lovingly up to the shrouded goddess.
“Isis! O Isis!” sobbed the girl, raising her snowy arms to the divinity. “First-born of the ages![254] Highest among the Immortals! Sovereign lady of departed souls! One and perfect revelation of all the gods and goddesses! Almighty Queen, whose nod the heavens and earth obey! Eternal Power, who art blest under a thousand forms and by a thousand names, by the sages of every land! Hear, O hear me! I have all thou canst bestow of earthly joys; I am young, fair and rich, and have the love of the noblest and best heart that beats among the youth of Rome! And yet, one thing is lacking to me, O Goddess! One thing, which I crave of thy mercy with floods of tears: Peace, inward, all-sufficient peace of heart. Isis! mother of heaven, hear me! Over my head there lowers a forecast of evil; my spirit wanders groping in darkness. Thou hast sent me a dream, a warning; but alas! thine ignorant child strives in vain to read it.—Teach me thyself to know thy will; reveal thyself to me! Give me peace and the calm beatitude, the grace of heaven! Save, oh! save me! All that I dare call mine must ere long fade.—The storms of time must sweep it away! Give me salvation, the true love which is eternal! Isis, all-loving Isis, have pity on me!”
The goddess’s veil was lifted a little from her face; half-appalled, half-fascinated, Cornelia gazed up at it. A tender radiance like moonlight fell upon the pale, marble features, and a benevolent smile parted the lips. But before the tremulous worshipper was fully aware of what was happening, the light vanished, the veil was softly dropped—it was all gone like a dream, and the music as suddenly ceased. Cornelia was aware of a violent shock as of an earthquake. Hardly mistress of herself, she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the pedestal of the statue. When she looked up again, Barbillus was standing by her side in a white robe[255] made of byssus tissue, and he smiled as he held out his hand to her.
“The goddess has heard your prayer,” he said in an agitated voice. “Tell me now what the vision was, and listen to the words of her servant.”
As he spoke he drew the curtain aside from a studded door, and led Cornelia up a narrow stair to an attic room, where he carefully closed the shutters and desired Cornelia to be seated on a couch. No sooner had she obeyed, than the tapers on a small altar were lighted—as the censers before had been—without any visible agency.
Barbillus knelt down, bowing his face over a sacred book which lay unrolled between the tapers, and he remained in this position, while Cornelia related her dream. Then, after putting up a silent prayer, he suddenly went up to the girl, bending down over her in such a way that she could perceive the small tonsure[256] on the crown of his head in the middle of his dark curls.
“Daughter!” he said, as he drew himself up again, “your dream betokens no good. A fatality is hovering over you and yours, which can only be averted by the direct intervention of the goddess. To this end it is needful that you should, for the next four weeks, bring an offering daily at the same hour as to-night. Gold, incense and roses are pleasing in the eyes of the divinity.”
“I knew it, oh! I knew it,” groaned Cornelia. “Not for nothing has my heart been held in a cold and deathlike grasp! But, tell me, what is the meaning of the desert place, of the shining city, and of my lover’s appearance?”