CHAPTER XLVII - MAPHIR'S CONFESSION

Glarces lay upon the softest and most luxurious divan the resources of Sahama could produce. Devoted love, courageous fidelity, tender sympathy, and anxious determination had converted his temporary abode into a veritable enchanted palace, in every feature carefully designed to encourage forgetfulness on the one hand and on the other to stimulate memories necessarily helpful to restoration.

It was like a lodge erected within the borderland where souls purified from even the suspicion of a stain in the whitened glow of hell's fierce torments, rest in order to be laved from the vibration of the memory of torture and adjust themselves to the soothing influences of the succeeding peace.

Hearts, hands, and heads had harmoniously united to arrange and furnish every detail of this strange but temporary abode as an expression of hopeful love and tender compensation for the awful past. Work is the spirit of effectual prayer, and they laboured until love could go no farther and devotion sighed to think it could do no more.

Teresh, Zachra, and Tasha each found in their own establishments slaves faithful as themselves who were available for service in this respect - men who were secretly drafted into the work, and rejoiced at the confidence which set them apart to such welcome duty. With the assistance of these Maphir had liberally supplied every hint or suggestion of Tasha, whose maternal hands and heart had directed all the final and requisite arrangements.

In this dreamy grotto of pure affection, presided over by his one remaining angel, Glarces lay, while the two estates waged their friendly contest for possession. Sahama had heard that he was found, and the nation had joined its penitent importunity with Tasha's tearful determination to keep him still; but, to the light of her newly found heaven, the love of Vedrona had grown well-nigh omnipotent, and longed to lift him above the possibility of further suffering. Between these two the mangled, broken, crushed, but still dutiful Prince was doubtfully rocked. He wondering; Tasha hoping; Vedrona calling.

After the tempest the peace of the uncertainty was as heaven, and he was patiently content. All that earth retained of personal friendship had been restored to him. Orasus, Maphir, and the lions represented the best fidelity of his dependents. His retreat was far preferable to the palace with its vacant rooms and silent voices. The gods were good to him and he was - happy? Could he say so much? No! Not quite - Vedrona was absent; and with that consciousness one note in life's full chord was flat, rendering the perfect harmony required for happiness incomplete.

Still, he was not now the storm-tossed sufferer we saw lured so deceitfully to his imprisonment. Since that night he had passed through an ordeal few could have braved and lived. In blackness, loneliness, and poisonous starvation he had fought a battle with treachery and selfishness, in the which he had been maimed in nerve and muscle, sinew and bone; all that was physical had been shattered, if not irretrievably destroyed. But the beneficent power - call it what you please - which stands behind the physical - whispering in a voice we fail to understand, prompting with an aspiration we almost fear to accept as true - had revealed to him an unsuspected system of compensation which is only known to those who courageously shoulder life's cross, nor flinch to sink, if need be, beneath its weight. In the darkness of his torture this great and treasured experience had been brought to light. The gods had spoken to him, and he had found that the unrighteous gate of a persecutor's hell is but the masked side of the vestibule by which the faithful reach the halls of heaven.

This was the secret of Glarces’ welcome content, and Tasha sat beside him ministering to the abundance of his peace.

“Should you miss me now if I had to go away again?” he asked, his eyes full of the longing to depart - his heart overflowing with affection for the friend who was so much to him.

“You are not going, dear. Now that we have recovered you we shall keep you.”

“Not if I wished to go, would you, Tasha?” “Do you wish to go?” she asked sorrowfully.

“Do I?” he questioned of himself dreamily. Then his hand sought her's. He saw the tearful sorrow in her eyes, and went on: “I cannot say! Sometimes I feel as if I do, and I would - but you are here, Tasha, and I would not leave you. If I were with Vedrona in the fairest bower of the Elysian fields I think we should want you, my mother, to make it quite complete.”

“Would you, my boy?”

“I think so - I hope so! And I am sure Vedrona would think so too.”

Then, with an effort controlling the flood of feeling which threatened to overwhelm her, she tried to turn his mind into another channel.

“But these are dreams and speculations of the far distant future, Glarces. You must now begin to think of what the people are asking.”

“What is that?”

“They are wondering what you will do when they see you back again.” “I am not back yet.”

“No; but you are growing stronger, and will soon be able to return.”

“I am not so sure about that. I think Vedrona would wish it otherwise.” “She will never wish you to leave your work, dear.”

“Do you think so? Ah, Tasha!” he continued, with a smile full of confidence and pleasure, “you only knew her as a child - I know the strength and sacred selfishness of her woman's love.”

“The selfishness?”

“Yes, dear; true love is always selfish, even the perfection of maternal love with which you love me. And Vedrona is alone.”

“Shall I not be alone?”

“That is my difficulty; but have not the gods decreed that the mother's love must yield in such a case?”

“Would you like me to let you go?”

“No! I must not - cannot lose you, Tasha; the memory of what you always have been - what you are to me even now, forbids that! Do you think I can ever forget your coming to me in those awful days when I thought Vedrona's love was lost to me for ever? How you tried to console and encourage me, and almost made me hope?”

“But those dark days are gone now,” she rejoined anxious to draw him from the melancholy contemplation.

“Yes, they are gone,” he reflected. “It was you who cleft the clouds and let the first ray of light come through.”

“No, dear; the gods did that.”

“But they used you for the purpose,” and he drew her head tenderly down to kiss her. “From that time I have never been without a ray of hope.”

“Never?”

“No, never. You rent the gloom, and since then the light has been continually increasing, until I know that the love Vedrona and I have for each other can never be destroyed nor separated. Such love is not of earth, Tasha, it is the gift of the most mighty gods, implanted not in the body but in our immortal selves, therefore nothing that earth produces, experiences, or is subject to, has power to reach or otherwise disturb it. It is more than life - for life is only one form of its expression, and thus death, nor passion, nor hell, nor any other power can conquer or subdue

Argument was not one of Tasha's strong points, especially with Glarces, whose opinions were always accepted by her as with oracular authority. In addition to this the animation with which he had spoke so exhausted him as to make her anxious to close the conversation.

“I hope it is so, dear; but you are tired and must rest now.”

As she spoke she rose with that tenderly graceful but authoritative tact by which a woman so irresistibly rules, and began to busy herself with important nothings, before passing to the inner room from whence she brought sweet and restorative perfumes to bathe his head and sprinkle the divan.

“I know it is so,” he resumed, as soon as she had taken her seat again. “Then I am glad, dear; but you must not talk any more now.” “Yes, Tasha, it will be too late if I do not speak to-night.”

“Why too late?” she asked, full of alarm.

“Don't be afraid. I know not why I feel so, but I do. I am not tired, but I feel a strange weariness to-night! It makes me glad rather than restless, brings a sense of freedom rather than oppression, and makes me want to speak with you. No, my mother - you must not weep! Hear me, and then if my thought of what is coming proves to be true, you will be glad that I have told you.”

“You must not talk like this, dear. I cannot bear it - it will break my heart!”

“Then I will say no more about it, but I have something to tell you about Vedrona. Will you hear that?”

“About Vedrona?”

“Yes! Do you remember how we saw her on the day I left you?” “Yes.”

“Well, when my imprisonment became more intolerable than I could bear she came to me again. She spoke to me, cheered me, bade me hope, told me of many things - that the immortals are not far away, and how in such inhumanities as I was suffering they had the power to come and minister at times. It was her coming that gave me power to live through all I endured, and made it possible for you and I to meet again.”

“Are you sure it was her, dear?” asked the wondering, but now rejoicing woman.

“Are you sure that I am Glarces?” he replied. “You need not ask me that.”

“Neither need you ask me the other. Yes, Tasha, I know Vedrona too well to be deceived. Ah! here is Teresh and Zachra! What is the news, gentlemen?”

“Excitement everywhere, and disappointment at your delayed return,” answered Teresh. “The magicians last night received from the oracle the account of your falling down the abyss in the golden caves, and their report was made to the Queen to-day. A search has revealed one of your head-dresses on a ledge of the chasm, so, of course, Lais accepts the message, and is mourning accordingly.”

The Prince smiled sadly.

“But where is Casca?” he asked.

“I should suggest you ask Maphir that question,” Zachra answered.

“Why?”

“It were better for him to answer you than that I should attempt it. Shall I call him?”

“Yes, let me see him.”

It was only by express command that the hunter would enter into his royal master's presence, though he had been many times assured how glad the Prince would be to see him. When Zachra called him, however, the stalwart champion of retribution was only too glad to answer.

“Come, my good Maphir, why should you desert me?” asked Glarces, with an effort at cheerfulness.

“My duty is not in your presence, most mighty Prince, but it has not been neglected.”

“I am confident of that; but I have asked for news of Casca, and my lord Zachra tells me that you are able to give the information.”

“I imagine Casca is busy just now,” he replied, as if more to himself than Glarces.

“Then you know where he is?”

“No! That is very doubtful. I know he is not with the gods, and I do not think the devils will care to have him.”

“What do you mean, Maphir?”

“I have just started him down the haunted gulf to see if he can find the two slaves who bound you to that wall.”

“Are they there?”

“Yes, Casca threw them in when they had finished his work, so I have sent him after them now he is no longer wanted.”

“You have thrown him there - no, Maphir, you are not so cruel.”

“It was not cruelty but justice, O Prince.”

“But it is an awful death,” and Glarces shuddered at the thought of it.

“It has been more merciful than I intended,” answered the hunter regretfully. “If my lords had not surprised me I meant to make hell far more welcome to him than it was.”

“Then I am grateful that you were so surprised.”

“And I am disappointed. Not that I would disobey your slightest wish, O Prince, but such as he deserve nor have any claim to pity. There is no justice for such a crime as his, and to let him slip so free from punishment is enough to make the spirits of the hunters drive me from their company as a traitor and a coward.”

“They can never do that, my good friend. When did you meet with him?”

“The night we found you.”

“What has he done all this time?” “Slept in the bed you left.” “In all that filth?”

“He had to - I could find nothing worse.” “Had you no pity for him?”

“More than he had for you. He kept you in that Tartarus for three months, I only left him for three days.”

“You gave him good food, I hope?”

“He was at liberty to have all I could not take away.” “Did you not give him any?”

“I left him all he had brought for you.” “Poor Casca!”

Maphir, however, showed no evidence of bending to the natural generosity of the Prince. It was a new trait in his character to place himself in such determined opposition, but it was prompted by the fidelity that was not willing to allow Glarces thus to suffer without exacting what atonement he had opportunity to enforce. The thought of extending commiseration to the eunuch excited a boldness of indignation which occasioned surprised to all who saw and heard it, but the strength and fulness of his loyalty won their admiration and acquiescence.

“Wherefore was he poor,” he asked, “or in what had he reason for complaint? His one desire since I have known him has been to take the place of the Prince. I have but helped him to it, and prevented anyone from disturbing his enjoyment of it. The place in which he lived he had himself provided; he made the bed in which he slept, and also furnished the table off which he ate. In everything he had his one desire - he stepped into the place he had provided for his friend the Prince. And I hope he liked it.”

“I would that you had not been quite such a merciless executioner,” said Glarces, sorrowfully.