“But you must sleep, or you will be fit for nothing to-morrow,” he urged gently. “What were you gazing at so intently out of the window?”
“Jerusalem!” she replied, and the words fell almost musically from her lips. “I look through this casement window, and I see the city stretched out before me, with its white domes and flat roofs, and a kind of spell comes over me as I gaze. See how solitary it looks, surrounded by those savage hills, and yet it is the centre of the three great religions of the world, and the goal of pilgrims from the uttermost ends of the earth. Even I, who am neither a Jewess by birth nor scarcely a Christian by faith, cannot help feeling thrilled. Eight times destroyed, it has come through fire and blood, and still remains; even Rome cannot boast of such a record as this.”
Montella smiled.
“What a fascinating goddess Jerusalem is!” he exclaimed softly. “She intoxicates us all when we first come within her walls; but you will find that the charm will wear off when you have been here a few days. A bird’s-eye view of the city is more satisfactory, I think, than a closer inspection. She doesn’t improve on acquaintance, for beneath her apparently peaceful exterior, there rises the humbug of her ecclesiastical show-places, the wrangle of creeds. When you have seen all the sights of the place, you will find that your pleasing sensations have gradually evaporated. At least, that was my experience on my first visit here.”
“You are more matter-of-fact than I am,” she rejoined, almost reproachfully. “I am sure that to me Jerusalem will always remain the same.”
She closed the casement and turned away, a thoughtful expression in her eyes. She could not imagine why the sight of the city should raise such emotions in her, since she was not bound to it by ties either of race or faith. She was always moved by places of historic interest, it was true, and she remembered how greatly she had been stirred by her first view of the seven hills of Rome; but Jerusalem impressed her in an entirely different way, and one which she could not so easily explain. She had looked forward with no especial pleasure to her sojourn in the Holy City, and had come merely because her husband wished it. Now, however, her feeling was one of inexplicable delight. She would not have missed the visit for the world.
CHAPTER VIII
AMID THE SACRED SCENES
The Princess Charles von Felsen-Schvoenig was also in Jerusalem, but she stayed at a hospice in the Christian quarter, where a friendly bishop and two or three other English Christians were included among the guests. In a fortnight’s time she would be en route for the Rhenish principality where her husband was patiently awaiting her return, but at the present moment her one desire was to “do” Jerusalem thoroughly, and in this she succeeded fairly well. Armed with Baedeker’s guide, she called at Dr. Engelmacher’s house for Lady Patricia, and chartering a light arabiyeh, drove wherever the streets would permit. The influence of the British Consul and Turkish Governor, combined with an unlimited amount of backsheesh, gained admittance to the innermost courts of the Harâm, and most effectually paved the way to the various places of interest. But the enjoyment of the Princess was somewhat marred by her inherent scepticism. She refused to believe in many cases that certain events happened on the exact spots to which they were ascribed, and therefore the great fascination of them was lost. For the city itself she possessed the deepest reverence; indeed it was this very reverence which made the morbid hallowing of certain rocks and stones so repugnant to her mind. Descended from a strictly Puritanical race, she found it impossible to manifest enthusiasm for relics—so many of them spurious—and the numerous mementoes sold by avaricious Moslems. The fanaticism of some of the Latins and Greeks was to her as incomprehensible as it was revolting.
She was obliged to visit the Church of the Holy Sepulchre by herself; for Patricia, being nominally a Jewess, was not permitted to enter the sacred precincts. So she left her friend in the little arabiyeh to meditate on the ambiguity of her position, and descended to the paved quadrangle alone. After what seemed a very long time she returned, thankful to be out again in the fresh air.
“Well?” said Patricia, with a smile, as she made room for her in the carriage. “Did it come up to your expectations?”