Victor Serenus. Henry Wood

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СКАЧАТЬ themselves. The whole interior of the palace was an intricate but beautiful maze, arranged to confuse and captivate the senses. It was one of those highly organized efforts, in a luxurious and depraved age, in a heathen metropolis, to storm the citadels of supposed pleasure, and to compel the inverted mechanism of Nature herself to yield without reserve the last charm that is contained in her storehouse. Art, nature, the flowers, the stars, rhythm, melody, beauty, and feeling, with cruelty and brutality interwoven—everything was placed under contribution in the mad and exhaustive search for a perfect sentient paradise. It was an age when the senses and instincts of mankind seemed to reach a climax of abnormity, while outwardly gilded with artistic charm and gracefulness. It was an era of intellectual delusion and spiritual insanity. Man must crowd and surfeit his baser nature to the bursting-point to-day, for to-morrow he is not.

      The palace was brilliant with numberless lights; and the warm air was heavy with the odors of myrrh, violets, jasmine, and other flowers and spices. Fountains cast up a delicate spray which glittered like star-dust in their pulsating prismatic play. Mirrors of polished steel duplicated every beautiful object, dazzled the bewildered senses, and flung chaplets of rosy chains around the soul of every captive and victim. To breathe the magic air was to experience a delicious intoxication.

      The vaulted ceilings of the principal apartments were frescoed with a sky in which were floating fleecy clouds of rosy hue, from the midst of which smiled faces of bewildering shape and beauty.

      In the dances and religious processions that were painted upon panels trooped forms of the divinest beauty, bearing garlands and chaplets and lyres, keeping time to the soft minstrelsy of melody which seemed to issue from the very walls. Every ornament, picture, and statue silently chanted an invitation to ENJOY.

      The door from below opened, and Chloe ushered the pure Jewish maiden into the presence of Marcius. But she came not alone. The small brother, though uninvited, appeared also, and they were hand in hand.

      CHAPTER IV

      THE NET IS RENT

      Saulus plied the oars with a steady stroke that would have done credit to more mature muscles, and the light shallop with its precious freight glided rapidly over the mirror-like surface of the Cydnus. The air was laden with fragrant exhalations from spicy shrubs, the bending branches of which hung over the water on either bank; the grounds immediately upon the river being generally laid out in gardens, which, like those of Benoni, extended to the water’s edge. The lily and rose-tree, the oleander and mulberry, each made its contribution of sweet odors, while their misty shadows quivered upon the surface of the water as the two moved gently by. Out of the thick foliage, here and there, came the song of a nightingale, the soft whistle of a quail, or the cooing of a turtle-dove calling its mate, perchance disturbed by the plash of the oars.

      The poetic inspiration and openness to nature’s voices, so prominent during the former days of Jewish psalmody and prophecy, had greatly decayed under the influence of a harsh formalism. The children of Benoni, while not indifferent to the beauty about them, were rather dwelling amid vague visions of the future.

      The full moon was now almost overhead. The evening air, while calm, had a preternatural closeness and intensity. A portentous pause prevailed—a lingering as if on the brink of fateful destiny. Nature seemed prophetically to be holding her breath. But the reveries of the scions of Benoni were not disturbed by portentous signs. Nothing so motionless could cause them to forget the riches of ancient Hebrew lore, or obscure the bright plans in the near future for Saulus. As each was wrapped in meditation, some time passed without a word being spoken. But at length strains of music in the far distance came floating over the water, and Saulus was aroused by their suggestiveness.

      “Attune thy lute, my sister, and sing one of the songs of Israel. If thou wilt, let it be the song of Miriam.”

      Rebecca took up her favorite instrument, and soon the echoes of her pure voice with its dulcet accompaniment floated out over the waves.

      “‘Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously;

      The horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea.’”

      Other songs and chants of the Chosen People followed; and then the Holy City, the Temple, and its services formed the theme of converse.

      The time had flown swiftly.

      “Peace be with thee, my brother! Have we not come far? Let us turn homeward.”

      “The evening is well spent; but the Cydnus is serene, and the current favors our return.”

      The shallop was quickly put about, and Saulus grasped the oars for a steady pull; but, as they turned their gaze down the river, the white roofs and towers of the city were hidden by a great black curtain.

      “O my Rebecca! a tempest is at hand!”

      Saulus bent to the oars with an energy born of desperation. Soon a blinding flash of lightning illumined the broad expanse, followed by a heavy peal of thunder.

      “The God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob will be with and keep us, my brother. ‘Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.’ ”

      The storm came on apace. The density of the darkness was intensified by the lightning-flashes which like great darting serpents thrust themselves athwart the sky. The fierce roar of the wind was now mingled with the thunder; and although Saulus struggled heroically to keep the sharp prow to the wind, the little craft was borne uncontrollably along, barely being kept upright.

      “O God of our fathers! Thou who didst bring Israel through the Red Sea, save us, or we perish!” exclaimed Rebecca.

      They were swept along; and when the boat was just about to fill, it was dashed violently upon the shore. The momentum which crushed their frail bark as it struck landed them suddenly upon the ground.

      The children of Benoni were saved. Partially stunned, but otherwise unharmed, they arose, and in each other’s embrace looked up, and thanked the God of Israel for deliverance. Turning to explore their landing-place, they found themselves in the yard of a large house or palace, which was brilliantly lighted, and from which issued the confused noise of voices, mingled with music and laughter.

      “We have fallen among the Gentiles,” said Saulus.

      On either side of the yard was a high wall, and nothing remained but to knock at the Cydnus gate of the palace for admission and relief. They were kindly received in the basement by the slaves in attendance, who took them in, and administered warmth and refreshment.

      At length Chloe, the head female slave, who had informed Marcius of their sad plight, received a message from him. She turned to Rebecca.

      “O my fair Jewess! Marcius, the master, craves an audience with thee in the hall above.”

      Chloe then conducted her up-stairs into the presence of the Roman, and Saulus followed unbidden.

      Marcius advanced with a gracious bow, taking no notice of the boy.

      “Methinks thou art an unexpected, but very welcome guest.”

      Rebecca gave no answer, but drew back with a shudder.

      “Come, my fair one! It becometh us to dispense with formality. Thou hast escaped the waves, and we give thee shelter and protection. Welcome to these fair halls. As the poet hath sung:—

      ‘And no god on heaven or earth—

      Not the Paphian Queen of Mirth,

      Nor the vivid Lord of СКАЧАТЬ