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Page 6
Hark! what plunged from the bank,--what black thing moves towards him
across the water? The crocodile! coming with tears in his eyes, and a
long grin of serried teeth. Coming!--the ugly scaly head is always
nearer and nearer. The boy screams; but who should hear him? He feels
whether the talisman be yet round his neck. He screams again, calling,
in half-delirium, upon his dead mother. Meanwhile the scaly snout is
close upon him.
A many-voiced shout, close at hand; a splashing of poles in the water;
a rippling of eddies against a boat's bows! As the boy drifts by, a
blue-eyed, yellow-bearded viking swings himself from the halyard,
catches him, pulls him aboard with a jerk and a shout, safe! The long
grin snaps emptily together behind him. The boy lies on the deck, a
vision of people with leg-coverings and other oddities of costume
swimming in his eyes; one of them supports his head on his knee, and
bends over him a round, good-natured, spectacled face. Above, a
beautiful flag, striped and starred with white, blue, and red, flaps
indolently against the mast.--
Precisely at this point the sleeper stirs his hand slightly, but
enough to throw the record of several succeeding years into
uncertainty and confusion. Here and there, however, we catch imperfect
glimpses of the Egyptian lad, steadily growing up to be a tall young
man. He is dressed in European clothes, and lives and moves amid
civilized surroundings: Egypt, with her pyramids, palms, and river, we
see no more. The priest's son seems now to be immersed in studies; he
shows a genius for music and painting, and is diligently storing his
mind with other than Egyptian lore. With him, or never far away, we
meet a man considerably older than the student,--good-natured,
whimsical, round of head and face and insignificant of feature.
Towards him does the student observe the profoundest deference, bowing
before him, and addressing him as "Master Hiero," or "Master Glyphic."
Master Hiero, for his part, calls the Egyptian "Manetho"; from which
we might infer his descent from the celebrated historian of that name,
but will not insist upon this genealogy. As for the studies, from
certain signs we fancy them tending towards theology; the descendant
of Egyptian priests is to become a Christian clergyman! Nevertheless,
he still wears his talismanic ring. Does he believe it saved him from
the crocodile? Does his Christian enlightenment not set him free from
such superstition?
So much we piece together from detached glimpses; but now, as the
magic ray steadies once more, things become again distinct. Judging
from the style and appointments of Master Hiero Glyphic's house, he is
a wealthy man, and eccentric as well. It is full of strange
incongruities and discords; beauties in abundance, but ill harmonized.
One half the house is built like an Egyptian temple, and is enriched
with many spoils from the valley of the Nile; and here a secret
chamber is set apart for Manetho; its very existence is known to no
one save himself and Master Hiero. He spends much of his time here,
meditating and working amidst his books and papers, playing on his
violin, or leaning idly back in his chair, watching the sunlight,
through the horizontal aperture high above, his head, creep stealthily
across the opposite wall.
But these saintly and scholarly reveries are disturbed anon. Master
Hiero, though a bachelor, has a half-sister, a pale, handsome,
indolent young woman, with dark hair and eyes, and a rather haughty
manner. Helen appears, and thenceforth the household lives and
breathes according to her languid bidding. Manetho comes out of his
retirement, and dances reverential attendance upon her. He is
twenty-five years old, now; tall, slender, and far from ill-looking,
with his dark, narrow eyes, wide brows, and tapering face. His manners
are gentle, subdued, insinuating, and altogether he seems to please
Helen; she condescends to him,--more than condescends, perhaps.
Meantime, alas! there is a secret opposition in progress, embodied in
the shapely person of that bright-eyed gypsy of a girl whom her
mistress Helen calls Salome. There is no question as to Salome's
complete subjection to the attractions of the young embryo clergyman;
she pursues him with eyes and heart, and seeing him by Helen's side,
she is miserably but dumbly jealous.
How is this matter to end? Manetho's devotion to Helen seems
unwavering; yet sometimes it is hard not to suspect a secret
understanding between him and Salome. He has ceased to wear his ring,
and once we caught a diamond-sparkle from beneath the thick folds of
lace which cover Helen's bosom; but, on the other hand, we fear his
arm has been round the gypsy's graceful waist, and that she has learnt
the secret of the private chamber. Is demure Manetho a flirt, or do
his affections and his ambition run counter to each other? Helen would
bring him the riches of this world,--but what should a clergyman care
for such vanities?--while Salome, to our thinking, is far the
prettier, livelier, and more attractive woman of the two. Brother
Hiero, whimsical and preoccupied, sees nothing of what is going on. He
is an antiquary,--an Egyptologist, and thereto his soul is wedded. He
has no eyes nor ears for the loves of other people for one another.--
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