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Page 102
"My darling, you do not know what wrong he has done you--and others.
It is only justice that he should learn how God punishes such as he!"
"Will not God teach him?" said Gnulemah, trembling to oppose the man
she loved, yet by love compelled to do so.
Balder paused, and looked towards the bed. There was a flickering
smile on Manetho's face; he seemed to be reviving. His injuries were
perhaps not fatal after all. Should he recover, he must sooner or
later receive his so-called punishment; meanwhile, Balder was inclined
to regard himself as the chosen minister of Divine justice. Why not
speak now?
This was the second occasion that he had held Manetho in his power, at
a time when the Egyptian had been attempting his destruction. In the
previous encounter he had retaliated in kind. Would the bitter issue
of that self-indulgence not make him wary now? Here was again the
murderous lust of power, albeit disguised as love of justice. Had
Balder's penitent suffering failed to teach him the truth of human
brotherhood, and equality before God? Love, typified by Gnulemah,
would fain dissuade him from his purpose: but love (as often happens
when it stands in the way of harsh and ignoble impulses) appeared
foolishly merciful.
Once again his glance met Gnulemah's,--lingered a moment,--and then
turned away. It was for the last time. At that moment he was less
noble than ever before. But the expression of her eyes he never
forgot; the love, the entreaty, the grandeur,--the sorrow!--
He turned away and approached the bedside, while Gnulemah went to
kneel at her maiden altar. Manetho's eyes were closed; his features
wore a singularly childlike expression. In truth, he was but half
himself; the shock he had sustained had paralyzed one part of his
nature. The subtle, evil-plotting Egyptian was dormant; his brain
interpreted nothing save the messages of the heart; only the
affectionate, emotional Manetho was awake. The evil he had done and
the misery of it were forgotten.--All this Balder divined; yet his
assumption of godlike censorship would not permit him to relent. It is
when man deems himself most secure that he falls, in a worse way than
ever.
"Do you know me, Manetho?" demanded the young man.
The priest opened his eyes dreamily, and smiled, but made no further
answer.
"I am Balder Helwyse,--the son of Thor," continued the other, speaking
with incisive deliberation, better to touch the stunned man's
apprehension, "I once had a twin sister. You believe that Gnulemah is
she."
The priest's features were getting a bewildered, plaintive expression.
Either he was beginning to comprehend the purport of Balder's words,
or else the sternness of the latter's tone and glance agitated him.
Bader concentrated all his force into the utterance of the final
sentences, vowing to himself that his fallen enemy should understand!
Did he think of Gnulemah then? or of Salome--partly for whose; sake,
he feigned, he had assumed the scourge?
"My sister died,--was burned to death before she was a year old. In
trying to save her, the nurse almost lost her own life. On that same
night, this nurse gave birth to a daughter,--whose name you have
called Gnulemah. Salome is her mother. Who her father is, Manetho, you
best know!"
The words were spoken,--but had the culprit heard them? Salome (who
from the first had shrunk back to the head of the bed, beyond the
possible range Manetho's vision) burst into confused hysteric cries.
Gnulemah had risen from her altar and was looking at Balder: he felt
her glance,--but though he told himself that he had done but justice,
he dared not meet it!--He kept his eyes fastened on the pallid
countenance of the Egyptian. The latter's breath came feebly and
irregularly, but the anxious expression was gone, and there was again
the flickering smile. All at once there was an odd, solemn change.--
The man was dying. Balder saw it,--saw that his enemy was escaping him
unpunished! There yet remained one stimulant that might rouse him, and
in the passion of the moment this self-appointed lieutenant of the
Almighty applied it.
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