AN UNEXPECTED SOLUTION
Chairo had been kept informed of what was happening to Lydia until the last day of the Eleusinian festival, and he believed that all danger of losing her was over. The appearance of Lydia, therefore, in the procession wearing the yellow veil was all the more a stupefying surprise to him. I was standing with him and Ariston as the procession passed, and was looking with eager and delighted interest at the gracefully draped figures that succeeded one another to the sound of music, which, with a subtle combination of majesty and grace, combined the plain chant of the Catholic liturgy with the lighter fugues of Bach, for in and out of great chords there ran intermingling strains of many voices, very light and delicate.
The procession was headed by girls and boys, selected for their perfect wholesomeness, who carried flowers and scattered them; they were dressed in the old Greekchitonwhich, fastenedonly above the shoulder, betrayed every movement of their lithe young bodies, as, swaying with the rhythm of the sower casting his seed, they threw their offerings first on one side and then on the other. The governor of the State, the mayor of the city, the commander of the militia, and their respective cabinets and staffs followed, respectively arrayed in the insignia of their office; the other cults also were represented; those of Jupiter robed in purple; those of Asclepius; those of Dionysus, and others. In striking contrast with these came next the novices and the nuns, swathed closely and heavily, even the head being concealed within a fold of drapery. The procession entered from the cloister, and on approaching the altar where was kept burning the vestal flame, it divided so as to allow the high priest and his acolytes to pass up between. The high priest was followed by the choir, and after the choir walked those who had accepted the mission.
It was upon these that the curiosity and impatience of the congregation centered; it sometimes happened that there were none; in such case the procession was closed by the Demetrians—that is to say, all who had already accepted the mission and completed it. On this occasion a single figure was seen to enter the portal, coveredwith the yellow veil and so draped as to conceal her features. The head, however, more usually bowed, was erect. For a sensible period of suspense it was impossible to tell who it was that had assumed the yellow shroud; but presently those nearest to her had discovered Lydia, and her name passed in an awful whisper to where we stood. The name once pronounced, there could no longer be mistake; Lydia alone of all the postulants could so hold herself:Vera incessu patuit dea. I felt a clutch at my arm, and, turning, saw the face of Chairo blanched and hard; but I was too absorbed in the procession to take long heed of him; I saw the procession close, and followed the ritual with breathless interest till the congregation was dismissed, unaware that Chairo had already slipped away from me and out of the temple.
As Ariston and I walked back to our lodging I asked what Chairo would do. Ariston answered that he feared trouble. We were both deeply affected, for even Ariston, votary of Demeter though he was, could not but feel as I did, that there was something in the choice of Lydia strange and portentous. We discussed it in low voices, and for many days little else was spoken of. Meanwhile, anxiety regarding the action ofChairo redoubled for he had disappeared. It was well known that the Demetrian council was taking steps, but no one knew what the steps were, and a sense of impending calamity weighed upon us all.
From the moment Lydia had decided to accept the mission, there seemed to grow in her a strength that was not her own. She rose from the couch, on which she had thrown herself upon leaving Iréné, without a symptom of her old irresolution; she stood without sense of fatigue while the yellow shroud was so draped about her as to hide her face to the utmost possible, for though she knew she could not escape recognition an instinct in her set her upon the attempt to do so; and when in the procession she entered the portals of the temple, a glow moved up from her heart to her head that deeply flushed her countenance as she heard the whisper "Lydia" grow from mouth to mouth into an almost angry protestation. Nevertheless, she felt sure now that she was right; it was easier as well as nobler to make the sacrifice than to yield. She walked firmly, with head erect, until she sank upon her knees before the altar, and the choir's triumphant processional was subdued in low responses to the chant of the high priest.
At last he turned to her and lifted his handsin mute suggestion that she should bring her tribute to the goddess. A Demetrian presented her the flint which was to symbolize the strength of her sacrifice; the priest gave her the steel that symbolized its cruelty; and striking one against the other she lit a spark that added a new flame to the altar. This was the irrevocable act. A great sigh mingled with many sobs broke from those present in the temple; buthereyes remained dry, and at the close of the ceremony she walked back to the cloister as firmly as she had left it.
But once returned, there came upon her the inevitable reaction; she discovered that the strength which had come upon her suddenly could no less suddenly forsake her; she threw herself upon a couch and asked to be left alone. As the door closed upon her attendant she was half astonished, half afraid to find sobs invade her and tears gush from her eyes. What did it all mean? Had she a will of her own, or was she merely the arena upon which instincts, half of heredity, half of education, were fighting out their battle, independently of her? She seemed to have become a mere spectator of it; alas, she must also be its victim. She lay sobbing until the sobs slowly died away, leaving her exhausted, and at last she slept like a tired child.
The next morning she awoke as weak as though she had had a long fever. It was the custom for novices to be removed to a temple in an island off the coast as soon as they accepted the mission—for, from the day of acceptance they were secluded—living with Demetrians only, under conditions which, though compatible with their mission were, nevertheless, most conducive to gayety and health. But Lydia was too weak to be moved; and she lay in her bed night and day, eating little, sleeping little, very quiet. There was hardly room in her thoughts for regret; she had committed the irrevocable act and now she must resign herself; her body had been exhausted by the struggle and cried for rest; and rest was given her.
Slowly her strength returned, and she was beginning to feel the time had come to go to the island cloister when, suddenly in the middle of the night, she was aware that some one had pushed aside the curtain at her door and was standing in her room. She had neither seen nor heard anything, but she was conscious of a presence, and a guilty delight in her heart told her, however incredible, that it was—Chairo.
She raised herself in her bed on her hand and found herself seized in a passionate embrace.
"For the love of God!" she heard his voice whisper to her, "don't resist"; and compelling arms lifted her off her couch, wrapped the heavy coverings upon it about her, and carried her like a child out of the room. She was taken into the cloister; her head was covered, and she did not wish to see. The weakness which had racked her bones and from which she had barely recovered came back to her, but now how different! For it wrapped a lethargy about her to which it was an ecstasy to surrender; no pain now; no sorrow; not even contrition. She was in the arms of Chairo, and it had happened without a sign from her; almost against her will; without her consent. For a season, at any rate, Lydia surrendered herself to the sweet self-deception that this had really all happened without her consent. Deep in her heart, however, was the conviction that she had strength enough to resist had she chosen; that a single cry would have sufficed to thwart a desperate stratagem. She was a little alarmed to find that this conviction could remain unshaken, and that, nevertheless, there was a song of thanksgiving in her heart that the strength of resistance had remained unused and the cry remained unuttered.
Chairo's strong arms were about her as hesilently hurried through the cloister. Lydia heard other hurrying steps besides his; he had clearly joined confederates; she was soon put into a carriage and whirled away from the temple.
THE PLOT THICKENS
The first news I had of the carrying off of Lydia was from Ariston. I was just going down to breakfast when he abruptly entered the sitting room we shared, and exclaimed: "Lydia has disappeared!"
To my inquiries he answered that the gate of the cloister had been forced, and the janitor bound and gagged. Obviously several men were involved, for traces of many steps were clearly visible—all shod; Lydia's sandals and cothurni were still in her room: she had, apparently, been lifted off her bed in the bed clothes; the absence of all trace of bare feet indicated that Lydia had not put foot to ground. Probably she had been gagged also, as no cry had been heard; everything seemed to indicate that she had been carried off against her will. The Demetrian council was swearing in special constables and had called upon the state authorities for help to capture the intruders; on the other hand, Balbus and otherswere collecting their followers, and armed conflict was feared.
Ariston was in great perplexity; all his convictions were on the side of order; but friendship made it impossible for him to join Chairo's enemies. After an animated discussion we decided that he should go to the council and endeavor to obtain a hearing, in the hope of persuading the council to abandon the effort either to recover Lydia or punish Chairo. Ariston begged me to go to Lydia First, explain to her the steps he was taking, and put myself at her disposal should she have a message to send him.
I hurried to Lydia First's apartment and found Cleon there. With flushed face Cleon announced that Chairo and his sister had been captured; that they were probably at that moment before the magistrate; that he had rushed home to tell his mother, and that she was preparing to go to her daughter.
Presently Lydia First entered the room; the events of the night had not impaired the dignity of her manner but had deepened the lines in her already timeworn countenance. She bade me seek Ariston, of whose knowledge of legal procedure she felt in need, and hurry him to the court where Lydia and Chairo were being examined.
Prisoners were entitled to counsel if they asked for it; but the innocent seldom availed themselves of the privilege. The examination might, therefore, be actually then proceeding unless either Chairo or Lydia demanded an adjournment. It little suited the temperament of Chairo to seek counsel, and the consciousness of innocence would prevent Lydia from doing so. I hastened, therefore, with all speed and found Ariston waiting to be introduced into the council chamber. He was still ignorant of the capture. We hurried to the courthouse and Ariston, who had no right to appear except at the request of one of the prisoners, sent in a line both to Chairo and Lydia urging them to demand an adjournment. The examination had already commenced. Both Chairo and Lydia, however, asked that Ariston be admitted, and I was admitted with him.
Lydia First was there and had already urged both Chairo and Lydia to ask for counsel, and both had refused. The examination was not a public one, only relations and friends or counsel being admitted; when, however, Ariston's message was received, he was by general consent admitted, and he immediately addressed the examining magistrate. He pointed out that Chairo, being a member of the state legislature, enjoyedimmunity from arrest unless capturedin flagrante delicto, and that Lydia was not charged with any offense; both ought, therefore, to be released without examination. A priest, however, who appeared for the Demetrian council persisted that their doors had been forced, their sanctuary violated, a vestal carried off without her consent, and Chairo found in the act of flight with her; the priest maintained that this constituted arrestin flagrante delicto. Chairo reminded the magistrate that he had not sought to escape examination, but added that, mindful of the magnitude of the issue involved in the case, he felt it ought to be fought out in the political rather than the judicial arena, and that he was indebted to Ariston for having reminded the court of an immunity which would transfer the question from the courts to the legislature.
The magistrate decided that he would not proceed with the examination, but in view of the seriousness of the offense he would hold Chairo until the question whether legislative immunity applied to his case could be decided by a full court.
Chairo was, therefore, confined in the house of detention, and Lydia was restored to her mother.
We at once sought admittance to Chairo, and found him impatiently pacing the room where he was confined.
"There was treachery," he exclaimed. "My carriage had been tampered with; it broke down within a mile of the cloister. I am trying to think who can have been guilty of it."
He continued pacing the room and neither of us was disposed to speak. Suddenly he turned to Ariston:
"But I have not thanked you; I should have made a mistake had you not interfered; and I know you belong to the other side." He put his hand out to Ariston and they shook hands warmly.
"You may be of immense service at this moment," he continued, "just because you belong to the government party. I was prepared for violence, and Balbus is now collecting our friends; but this treachery makes me doubtful of success; only some half dozen knew of my plan; the loyalty of every one of them seems essential to us, and one of them is a—traitor."
"You should be thankful that treachery prevented your resort to violence," answered Ariston. "You have secured what must be the matter of most importance to you: Lydia is restored to her home; she is removed from the cloister and isgiven time for reflection. This you could doubtless not have brought about in any other manner than by the plan you adopted. But had you escaped there would have been only one alternative; now the question can be settled without the shedding of blood."
"But I have lost Lydia!" exclaimed Chairo, with haggard eyes.
"Not lost," said Ariston. "I have yet to learn just what part Lydia has played in the matter. Did she consent?"
Chairo, who was still pacing the room, suddenly stopped and faced us; he put out both hands deprecatingly and seemed about to answer, but arrested himself and resumed his walk. Then very slowly he said:
"What do you mean by consent? Can she be said to have consented when, under an influence that paralyzed her will she paid her tribute at the altar? The question we have to bring before the state is not whether Lydia consented to the cult or to me, but whether the influence exercised by the cult is a wholesome influence or a damnable one."
"If you want this issue to be fairly presented," said Ariston, "don't allow your case to be prejudiced by violence. Send orders at once to Balbusbidding him abandon this gathering together of your followers. The mere fact that he is preparing for violence will distort the issue, and any attempt at rescue will prevent a calm and fair discussion of it altogether."
"You are right," said Chairo. He took out a note book and made as though he would write, but checking himself, he said: "I must put nothing on paper," and turning to me asked: "Won't you go to Balbus at once and explain to him that violence now would be a mistake? He would hardly accept such a message from Ariston, who is known to be on the government side; but from you it will seem less open to suspicion. Tell him if he doubts you to come and see me, and hear my views from my own lips."
On leaving Ariston I was aware that a large force of special constables, bearing the badge of Demeter—a sheaf of wheat—were gathered about the House of Detention. I hurried to the office ofLibertyand found a crowd there, through which it was difficult to penetrate. Obviously something unusual was happening. I should never have got through to Balbus had I not been able to state that I was the bearer of a message from Chairo. This, however, opened every door to me, and soon I found myself in a room where Balbuswas engaged in giving rapid instructions to a number of men waiting their turn to be received. Neaera was there also, sitting at a side table, busily writing. As soon as I began giving my message to Balbus, Neaera rose and came toward us. She was serious and there was a slight frown upon her face. When I had finished, Balbus turned to her and she answered:
"It is too late. Measures have already been taken. Besides, Chairo's messenger"—and as she looked at me squarely in the face her brow darkened—"is not accredited."
I explained the situation as Chairo had stated it and urged Balbus to go himself to the House of Detention. But Neaera said quickly:
"If Balbus were to leave this office unescorted he would be arrested. He is already compromised. Moreover, we cannot take our orders from a prisoner."
"The House of Detention is strongly guarded," said I.
"And we are strongly armed," answered Neaera.
I felt that it was useless further to insist and proposed to retire, but Neaera whispered a word in Balbus's ear, and he said to me, "I think I shall ask you to stay with us a little while."
"I shall not stay with you except compelled to do so by actual violence," I answered, with no slight indignation.
"Then we shall have to use violence," answered Balbus.
In a moment I was seized, bound, gagged, and hurried into an adjoining room where I was tied to a chair and a band was fastened about my eyes. In this uncomfortable position I remained for some hours.
NEAERA'S IDEA OF DIPLOMACY
At first I was aware from a hum of voices that others remained in the room with me; but after some time the hum ceased; next I heard the noise of artillery not far off. It did not last long, but I recognized the tearing screech of machine guns. When it was over, believing myself to be alone, I sought to extricate myself from my bonds. The cords, however, were so tightly fastened about my wrists that the skin was torn, and every effort I made to loosen them occasioned acute pain. I must have uttered a low cry, for I heard a voice I knew well say mockingly:
"Does it hurt?" And the gag was removed from my mouth.
"I thought I was alone," answered I.
"Wearealone—quite alone," said Neaera. "Why don't you stick your staff in the ground and put the cock under the pot?"
She was so close to me that I could feel her breath on my cheek.
"Release my hands and I will," answered I.
"Thank you, indeed! Do you think I have had you bound for that!"
"I do not flatter myself; but as you are disposed to chat, tell me what is happening."
She took the band off my eyes and looked bewitching as she mocked me:
"Nothing is happening; and if there were something happening how should I know it?"
"Who tampered with Chairo's carriage?"
I asked the question suddenly in the hope that I should take her by surprise.
"What carriage?" asked she with an air of innocence, but the color mounting to her cheek betrayed her.
"Chairo says some one treacherously tampered with his carriage."
"Nonsense," answered Neaera. "The accident to Chairo's carriage is not the first carriage accident in the world. Chairo is thinking only of himself."
"How so?"
"He wants Lydia; we want liberty."
My suspicions were confirmed.
"I suppose Chairo has made love to you—as have all the rest."
The dimple deepened in Neaera's cheek, butshe busied herself unfastening the cords that bound my wrist.
"I am going to give you liberty at any rate," she said. "For I want you to do something for me."
"Stick my staff in the ground and put——"
"No; I have forgiven you; it is something very different from that."
My hands were free now, and I stretched them out in exquisite relief.
"Are you a little grateful?"
"Of course, I am grateful—but I am still more curious to know what you want me to do for you."
"It is very simple." She showed me a sheet of paper upon which was some typewriting. "I want you to sign this."
I put out my hand to take the paper and read the writing.
"Oh, no!" she cried, putting the paper behind her back. "I want you to sign without reading." She looked at me with a smile which she meant to be irresistible; and, assuredly, to most men the temptation would have been great—for the smile said plainly that acquiescence would have its full reward.
I had unloosed the cords about my feet and was standing in front of her irresolute; not wishingto make an enemy of her by a downright refusal, for I did not know what confederates might be within call and yet half inclined to snatch at the paper and read it in spite of her. But I suspected that she meant me to do this; that she shrewdly guessed a playful struggle between us would increase the temptation to yield to her beyond powers of resistance.
As I stood smiling at her, for the grace of her posture—leaning a little forward and holding the paper behind her back—disarmed me, she suddenly waved the paper before me as though inviting me to snatch at it.
I cannot imagine what would have been the result of this little comedy had not a distant hum from the street suddenly attracted our attention. She ran to the window, threw up the sash and, taking up a field glass that was lying on the table, looked down the street. One glance was sufficient; when she turned back into the room her face was blanched; every trace of coquetry had disappeared; she barely looked at me and hurried from the room. She locked the door upon me as she left. I went to the window, but on my way there picked up the paper she had offered for my signature and which she had dropped as she picked up the field glass. I was too much interestedin what was happening in the street to read it then. I thrust it in my wallet and saw without the help of the field glass that the street was full of armed men hurrying to theLibertybuilding, and upon their shoulders the badge of Demeter—a golden sheaf on a blue ground—was clearly visible. Obviously, Balbus's attempt at rescue had failed, and instead of bringing back Chairo in triumph to theLibertyoffice, it was the special constables who were crowding to its doors. Soon I heard a rush of steps up the stairs; there was a fumbling at the door; the door was forced and there rushed in a number of men, one of whom recognized me. I explained the message from Chairo which I had brought to the office ofLibertyand, without mentioning names, added that I had been bound and imprisoned there. The cords in the room and the abrasions on my wrists confirmed my story. I promised to hold myself at the disposal of the investigating magistrate and was given my liberty.
The offices in which I had been confined were searched and every paper in them carefully collected. I betook myself at once to the chambers I shared with Ariston, but on the way I took the paper I had been asked to sign out of my pocket and read it.
"Dear Chairo:"Balbus has confined, bound, and gagged me. I owe my freedom now to Neaera, who will see that this reaches you."Verb. Sap."
"Dear Chairo:
"Balbus has confined, bound, and gagged me. I owe my freedom now to Neaera, who will see that this reaches you.
"Verb. Sap."
Not a word in this interesting document was literally false; and yet it was obvious how falsely Neaera meant to use it.
NEAERA MAKES NEW ARRANGEMENTS
Neaera left the building in which were theLibertyoffices by an entrance on a street other than that which she had seen threatened by the constables, and hurriedly considered where she could find a certain Masters to whom she had always determined to fly in case of defeat. Masters was a man whose career had greatly contributed to the particular phase of Collectivism which I found prevailing in the New England States. Originally the state had undertaken to monopolize manufacture, and for a long period—over a hundred years—had succeeded in giving general satisfaction. During the first century of Collectivist existence so much time was spent in transforming cities that there was no leisure for individual enterprise; indeed, during this period the majority worked as hard as they had ever worked under the competitive régime; for although a half-day's labor only was exacted to earn a full share in the national income, anotherhalf-day's labor was asked and freely given to make those changes in the cities and towns which were obviously necessary under the new régime. And a certain exchange of occupation had taken place, masons and carpenters working all day at their respective trades, while others worked all day at theirs, extra wages being paid for extra work; these extra wages were applicable to the purchase of luxuries, the most laborious and the most thrifty thus reaping the reward of their labor and thrift. When, however, the cities, towns, and villages had been so converted as to furnish practically equivalent lodging to all, under conditions that were wholesome and with due regard to the demand for the beautiful that, though expressed in my time only by a few, is in fact latent in us all, there was no longer the same imperious call for extra labor on the part of the state, and the leisure enjoyed in consequence was soon employed in a manner not anticipated by socialists of my day. And Masters had been the first to inaugurate the new system. It happened in this way:
The state had exposed itself to much criticism as to many of the things furnished by its factories, and when Masters was still a youth of twenty-five years, the complaint on this subject became sowide-spread that he set himself to correcting the evil. He was employed in a wall-paper factory, and wall paper was just one of the articles that had given rise to the greatest dissatisfaction; so one day when an artistic friend was mocking at the work the state factory turned out, Masters suggested that they should get a few others to join them in setting up a factory of their own. The experiment was looked upon at first as a piece of innocent child's play, but when some hundred young men and women actually succeeded in producing a wall paper so preferable to that manufactured by the state that theirs alone was purchased and the state had to shut down some of the government mills, the question of the right of individuals to compete with the state was brought up in the legislature, and the issue became sufficiently serious to drive Masters into politics for the purpose of defending what came to be known as "Liberty of Industry."
The principal argument made against this so-called liberty of industry was that Masters and his fellow-workers were becoming rich. The money that formerly was paid to the state factory was now paid to them, and thus the accumulation of wealth became possible which it was the principal object of Collectivism to prevent. In vainMasters argued that they applied their leisure to the manufacture of wall paper not in order to become rich, but in order to have paper that suited their taste; that the real value of Collectivism was to provide all men with the necessaries of life so as not to subject poor men to a few rich; that so long as the state provided necessaries against a stipulated amount of labor it was quite immaterial whether a few chose by voluntary labor to provide an article that was needed and incidentally increase their own wealth; and that such voluntary labor benefited all. The cry against accumulation was too powerful to be silenced, and Masters felt some concession must be made to it; so he consented to a proposition that all state money should have purchasing power only during a period of two years; under this system hoarding or accumulation would be prevented, because every two years the money so hoarded would become valueless—all money being paper and bearing a date, gold being used only by the state in foreign trade.
This compromise was adopted, and the effect of it was to give an immense impulse to private industry. While the question was being discussed few were willing to embark on an enterprise that might be declared illegal and be appropriated bythe state. As soon, however, as private enterprise was indirectly sanctioned by the passage of this law it became clear that any individual might devote his leisure to the production of anything not satisfactorily produced by the state, and the result of this new departure was considerable, for it not only greatly increased the total wealth of the community but it stimulated the state to maintain and improve standards of manufacture, contributing all that is good in competition without tolerating those features of oppression and pauperism which had made competition so evil in our day.
And Masters became a great man in the community; for not only was he regarded as the author of private enterprise, but possessing the powers of organization and the judgment in selecting his fellow-workers essential to success, he soon became the head of numerous enterprises; and although he was unable at first to accumulate wealth in the shape of money, he did accumulate it in the shape of products of manufacture. Moreover, the fact that he could not accumulate it in the shape of money and that there was a limit to his power to accumulate it in the shape of products of manufacture, drove him to distribute his earnings among his neighbors with aprodigality so lavish that, possessing a naturally generous heart and an attractive manner, he became a man of enormous—some men said undue—influence in the state. Recently, too, owing to the establishment of a banking system, accumulation in private money became possible.
Masters had never married. His interests were so various and engrossing that he had not felt the need of a wife. Nor was he ever at a loss for a companion; the bath was his club; and a short evening—for he was an early riser—was comfortably spent in the society of those with whom he dined at the common table. But he was by no means insensible to feminine charm, and Neaera had not ineffectually aired her graces for his benefit.
Neaera had often decided that Masters was the best match in the country and had schemed to secure him; but she was aware of his sagacity and had so far refrained from any overture that might alienate him. She had, however, never failed to improve an opportunity for displaying her attractions in his presence, taking care to keep religiously away from him at such times lest he should guess the plot that lay at the bottom of all her performances. On more serious occasions she had had long and confidential conversations withhim, chiefly on political subjects; she had indeed been one of his political lieutenants, but when engaged in politics she had studiously avoided the slightest symptoms of coquetry. Masters, on the contrary, had often allowed her to feel that he would gladly have made their relations more intimate. She had seen the big fish rise—a little lazily, it is true—at her cast; she had felt that upon a sufficiently dramatic occasion she could land him; and now it satisfied her sense of antithesis that so signal a defeat as that of her party that day might be converted by her skill into an individual victory.
It was about four in the afternoon—the hour when Masters should be leaving his office for his apartment. If she walked in the direction of the latter he would possibly overtake her; she did not wish to go to him; she preferred to meet him accidentally; it would not do for him to imagine she had counted on him. She walked, therefore, slowly and with a pretty air of concern along the street he usually took, wondering whether she would be favored by fortune before the arrest which she knew was being prepared for her. She felt that the events of the day would be likely to change the daily routine, even of so methodical a man as Masters, and was beginning to fear shewould have to take refuge in his apartment, when she heard a step overtaking her, and to her great relief his big voice said:
"Why, Neaera, what are you doing here? I thought you were in the thick of it?"
Neaera looked up shyly and then down again.
"I am afraid all is over," she said very low.
"And where are you going?"
"I don't know."
"Is there any fear of arrest?"
Neaera brewed up a tear and cast an appealing glance at him. She was one of those fortunate and dangerous women who could summon a tear to her eye without at the same time bringing blood to her nose and eyelids.
"You must step into my apartment until we can take precautions," he said.
"I'm afraid I'll compromise you."
"Compromiseme!" exclaimed Masters, "never in the world! And as foryou, I'll send for your mother."
"Will you, indeed?" said Neaera, edging a little closer to him; but she did not mean that he should do this.
They were at his door then; and touching her lightly on the elbow he guided her past the porter's lodge, up the staircase and into his rooms.
Masters bade her sit down and tell him how matters stood. Neaera took care that her version of the story should, by keeping herself in the shade, throw the whole responsibility on Chairo and Balbus. Masters, however, plied her with questions which she parried with skill. At last Masters exclaimed:
"But you are blameless in the matter; they cannot mean to arrest you; and if they do, you will be immediately released."
"I am afraid," answered Neaera, "you are inclined to believe others as frank and generous as yourself."
"I don't understand," said Masters, a little uncomfortable under the flattery implied in Neaera's words—for he liked neither flattery nor those who used it.
"I have not lived very long," said she, "but I have lived long enough to know that failure brings discord between the best of friends. I have believed that we could effect our reforms best through constitutional measures; and the very fact that I have been right will unite them all against me now. Of course I have done a great deal of the writing—generally at the dictation of others"; Neaera, as she said this, congratulated herself on having utilized the absence of all fromthe offices except herself in destroying every shred of paper that could compromise her, and even fabricating some that would exonerate her. She paused a little, and then went on: "I don't even know who has survived the disaster; some of them I could trust to the end; but others are capable of any treachery. And then mamma"—Neaera's chin twitched a little—"mamma does not know how far I am involved in the matter—and she is so alone——"
And here Neaera's grief became uncontrollable; she jumped up from her chair and burst into a flood of tears. As she stood there, her face in her hands and her soft and rounded figure convulsed by sobs, compassion filled the heart of Masters; all his nascent fondness for her suddenly burst into a flame; he went to her, took her by the shoulders, and said:
"Don't cry, Neaera; I am very fond of you; it hurts me to see you cry; tell me about it; let me help you; I can help you and I will—if you will let me."
As he ejaculated these sentences he gently pressed her shoulders to give emphasis to them; and Neaera yielded to his pressure, so that at the end she was very close to him and her bowed head rested against his breast.
When Masters felt the pressure of her head against him, a rush of love for her passed beyond his control. Looking down at her he observed the delicate whorl of a small ear like a pink shell and a soft neck so inviting that, bending his own head, he pressed his lips against it.
Neaera burst away from him and threw herself upon a chair.
"Masters, Masters," she said reproachfully, "you should not have done that!"
He had often heard stories of Neaera to her disadvantage and at that culminating moment her reproach became a conviction in him that those stories were false. She was looking at him now with tearful eyes wide open; Masters felt contrite; he had taken advantage of her at a time when she was at his mercy; of a woman, too, whose talents and conspicuousness had made of her a mark for envy and malice; she was down now; anyone could hurl a stone at her; she had thrown herself upon his generosity, and he had responded by insulting her. There was only one reparation he could make, and that reparation his heart was already urging him to make.
He threw himself on one knee by the side of Neaera as she sat, put both his arms on her lap, and looking straight into her reproachful eyes, said:
"Only one thing could have justified it; I love you, Neaera; have indeed loved you long——"
Neaera bowed her head and said nothing.
There was a long pause. But Neaera allowed him to remain there, very close to her, with his arms upon her lap. Then Masters moved his head slowly nearer to her until it rested on her bosom. And Neaera folded her soft round arms about his neck.
"I CONSENTED"
When I reached our chambers I found them empty. At the bath, however, though Ariston was not there I learned the incidents of the day. Almost immediately after my interview with Balbus he had headed the attempt to rescue Chairo; it had been carefully planned, for exactly at three o'clock there converged upon the House of Detention from every side no less than six different lines of attack, which took shape only within a few yards of the house itself, so as to avoid conflicts at points other than the one upon which the attack was concentrated. But the cult had taken precautions. Some machine guns had been put into position and Balbus and his followers were blown out of existence, leaving a mass of wounded men and but few unwounded survivors. The constables that day sworn in had at once repaired to theLibertyoffices where I had met them. Ariston was doubtless at that moment conferring with Chairo andthe authorities as to how far this act of violence was to affect the procedure.
Ariston did not appear at our chambers until after midnight, and he was then so weary that I did not press him for details. He informed me, however, that my message to Balbus would probably constitute the pivotal fact in his defense of Chairo; that Balbus was shot to pieces; and that the question whether Chairo was to be kept in confinement would probably be heard within a week.
The next morning Ariston had a long conference with me over the whole situation, which was a complicated one. The courts, though fair, were undoubtedly strongly Demetrian in their tendencies, and Ariston did not believe they would set Chairo at liberty; but he felt it his duty as Chairo's counsel to make the effort. Ariston did not conceal from me, however, his conviction that Chairo was insisting on the effort being made in order to use the decision of the courts on the political arena, where the issue must be ultimately decided. He, Ariston, doubted the wisdom of his appearing as Chairo's counsel under the circumstances, for on the political issue Ariston would fight Chairo to a finish, and Chairo knew this. But Chairo had declined to release Ariston. He claimed that Ariston having offered to act forhim, and he having accepted the offer, Ariston was no longer free to withdraw except for better reason than he could give.
The importance of the testimony I could give, and the fact that I was a lawyer admitted me into all the conferences that were held. Chairo's case was to come up on habeas corpus, and I undertook to prepare an affidavit as to the message sent through me by Chairo to Balbus. In the preparation of this affidavit I was confronted with the question whether it was necessary to introduce Neaera's name; there was in me a strong repugnance to doing so. If by involving Neaera I could save an innocent man I should have been guilty in omitting her intervention in my interview with Balbus; but the only person that to my mind could be affected by her intervention was Balbus, and Balbus was dead. Nor would his memory gain much by testimony that would tend to prove that the incriminating act was done at the bidding of a woman.
Three days after Chairo's arrest I was still hesitating over this question when I received a message from Masters asking for an interview. I readily accorded one, and we met in Chairo's chambers which were put at my disposal during his detention.
Masters opened the conversation by telling me confidentially that Neaera had promised to marry him, and that he was naturally, therefore, anxious to exonerate her from responsibility as regarded the rash attempt at rescue. I let him speak preferring to hold my tongue till I learned the story Neaera had told him. He admitted that Neaera had taken a strong stand in favor of Chairo and all that Chairo stood for, but explained the enormous difference between constitutional opposition and appeal to force. Neaera had told him that no word of writing that she could remember—save such as might have been written at the dictation of others—could possibly compromise her, but that she did not know how far some of the survivors might not seek to escape punishment by throwing responsibility on her. Neaera had particularly asked Masters to see me and find out how far this was to be feared.
I recognized the fine work of our astute friend in the story told by Masters, and anxious to know just how far Masters was committed to Neaera, I asked:
"When do you expect to be married?"
Masters lowered his voice as he answered:
"Confidentially, we are already married. I found her wandering aimlessly about the streetexpecting arrest; so I took her at once to Washington and married her there. I have left her among friends in a neighboring state till this matter blows over."
The marriage having taken place, there was clearly no duty upon me to enlighten Masters, so I said to him:
"Assure Neaera from me that I shall keep you informed of how matters move and particularly if any witness testifies in a manner to compromise her. No such testimony has been given as yet to my knowledge—but then, none of the survivors of the rescue party have yet been examined."
I worded my answer in a manner to reassure Neaera so far as I myself was concerned and Masters left me satisfied.Hedeserved sympathy, at any rate.
Ariston was extremely busy endeavoring to obtain affidavits from the survivors as to Chairo's non-complicity in the attack, and asked me therefore to see Lydia and explain to her the importance of silence at this juncture. Accordingly I went to see her and found Aunt Tiny in a state of great excitement. Lydia was ill and her mother was with her. Aunt Tiny wanted to take the whole matter on her shoulders.
"Lydia will do just what I tell her to do," assured Aunt Tiny, nodding her curls gravely at me.
"I think I ought to see Lydia myself if it can be managed," I answered.
"But she is so ill." Her lisp was childish and I unconsciously smiled a little. My smile put the little woman in quite a flutter.
"I'll manage it," she said confidently. "You'll see; I'll manage it"; and the busy little body, in spite of her age, tripped out of the room.
Presently she returned radiant. "It's all right," she said. "You can come; I told you I should manage it"; and she showed me to Lydia's room.
Lydia was lying on a couch with a shawl thrown over her knees; but the chiton loosely fastened over her right shoulder showed all the beauty of her bare arm. Very different, indeed, did she look from the girl I awoke to find bending over me on the hill on Tyringham. The warm color of the sun had left her skin, which was now white and extremely delicate. Her head, then strong and erect, now leaned upon a pillow so gently that it seemed