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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0f3a860 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #61478 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61478) diff --git a/old/61478-0.txt b/old/61478-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 8054e04..0000000 --- a/old/61478-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2313 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Court of the King, by Margaret Benson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: The Court of the King - And Other Studies - -Author: Margaret Benson - -Release Date: February 22, 2020 [EBook #61478] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COURT OF THE KING *** - - - - -Produced by David E. Brown and The Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - -THE COURT OF THE KING - - - - -_BY THE SAME AUTHOR._ - - - THE SOUL OF A CAT. - THE VENTURE OF RATIONAL FAITH. - CAPITAL LABOUR AND TRADE AND THE OUTLOOK. - SUBJECT TO VANITY. - THE TEMPLE OF MUT IN ASHER. (With J. A. GOURLAY.) - - - - - THE COURT OF - THE KING - - AND OTHER STUDIES - - - _By_ MARGARET BENSON - - - T. FISHER UNWIN - LONDON: ADELPHI TERRACE - LEIPSIC: INSELSTRASSE 20 - - - - - _First published, 1913_ - - - (_All rights reserved_) - - - - -PREFACE - - “We wake with wrists and ankles jewelled still.” - - -There are many ways of entering fairyland; sometimes there is a door in -the ground, and he who goes through finds himself in some great hall -or carved and painted chamber. Sometimes we find the morning dew on a -flower and touch the eyes with it; or, like John Dietrich, catch the -cap which the fairies are flinging and put it on our own heads: and -immediately the little people spring into sight, we hear the sweetness -of their music and see the glitter of their hidden treasure and watch -the merriness of their games. - -The difficulty of the first method is to find the way, of the second to -find the will; and John Dietrich’s way is the venture of confidence. - -Children are continually in fairyland; grubbing in mother earth they -find the door; as they tumble on the grass the morning dew touches -their eyes and makes them pure. - -But sometimes the light of fairyland will shine suddenly about you; -and you know it is no common glow though it seems but the light of day -to many. So a child sauntering and playing at midday in the fields -may throw back its head and look into a deep blue summer sky, and be -seized on a sudden by a beauty which troubles the spirit, a greatness -which weighs upon the soul and wearies it, till the will fails. Or the -light may shine softer at evening through the nursery window, when -roofs of houses and branches of elder purple and darken against a sky -all purest primrose, and draw the young spirit with a half-comprehended -longing. Sometimes it comes with raptures of sunlight in a green -garden; sometimes cold and strange in moonlight when existence holds -its breath, and earth is lost in shadow or refined to vapour in -uncertain light; sometimes with a fullness of peace in pale emerald of -evening light jewelling the latticed windows of an old house, till -the enchantment thickens and the spirit pants with the presage of the -moment, waiting for a revelation which still delays. - -And sometimes it is filled with the very spirit of the little people: -curious, amused, fantastic--as when you walk on a sea-shore, and -suddenly, as with the touch of a charm, the pool at your feet becomes -a little inland sea: you see the rocky shores sloping down, the sandy -bottom, the submarine promontories through the blue: forests of seaweed -sway; a terrible creature with claws crawls out through pale coralline; -a lump of red jelly stretches out its arms and becomes now a living, -crimson flower, now a horrid polypus ravaging, irresistible; a fairy -being mailed in translucent armour floats on with antennæ fiercely -waving; and you are back in fairyland. - -Many times you may borrow the Red Cap to watch the boy Stevenson -titanically carve mountains and seas in a mere mess of porridge; or to -hear with Charles Kingsley when the grouse prophesies doom on the moor -or the empty gnat boasts himself beside the stream. But sweetest of all -it is to win for yourself the charm which opens your eyes in wood or -field, and to hear with awakened ear the voices of created things. - -These things should be at our command; but the things which children -know we must re-learn; and there is no truth more evident to the child -nor more surely proved to the philosopher than that all which we see -or hear depends for all its meaning on the soul of the world that -no man sees or hears. Let this book be taken as a short and simple -lesson-book in hidden meanings. Life gives us many lessons hard to -read, and problems painful to unriddle; but here in kind and simple -wise our lesson was made plain and the page was pleasant to read: for -to the eyes of everyday, in varying scenes, among diverse races, and -nations long since dead “the dear old nurse” showed us the things which -follow. She brought us through the Gates of Gold and sent us to float -on the serene water below a pleasant pasture; she taught us daily, -dwelling on the other side; led us by moonlight to the Court of the -King; showed us through sordid circumstance the silent romance on the -golden hill, as she had showed us romantic incidents, even in the -Desert City; then she surrendered us to the guardianship of her child -Imagination who, through the voices of others, brought back for us the -Oriental vision of the royal boat in the mysterious midnight solemnity. -And from this our older guardian led us back, and blotting out for -us sight and sound of a populous city by a transparent veil, made us -understand how to trust the mightiness of the life of which we were -part. - -Then she bade us close the book with the touch of pain and healing sent -to quicken into life, and again Imagination sent us, among the scenes -of daily life to look for the beautiful kingdom which endures: And we -must say it in what form we may, so that we catch the meaning of the -simple word, so early and so often said, from which our stubborn sense -rebels, “the prison is the world of sight.” - -Thus before memory should fade too much I wrote down some of the things -I had under guidance witnessed and experienced, and those which the -child Imagination had, as I say, taught in divers ways. - -For too often we let memory lie like a rabbit in a winter burrow; and -imagination buzzes on the surface of things like a fly on a pane: we -narrow our vision to our purpose and our hearing to intelligible -voices, till it needs a shock of strangeness or of beauty to bring -us back to realities--to rouse memory to throw open the door in the -hillside, to make imagination leave its sheet of glass for the world -of air and light, to let the beauties and the music of the infinite -creation reach the dull brain. - - MARGARET BENSON. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - PREFACE 5 - - - I - - THE GATES OF GOLD 17 - - - II - - THE LAKE WITHIN THE WORLD 27 - - - III - - A DESERT CITY 37 - - - IV - - THE OTHER SIDE 53 - - - V - - THE SILENT ROMANCE 73 - - VI - - THE COURT OF THE KING 85 - - - VII - - THE GOLDEN DAHABEAH 101 - - - VIII - - THE UNSEEN WORLD 125 - - - IX - - FROM THE BANK OF THE RIVER 135 - - - - -THE GATES OF GOLD - - - - -I - -THE GATES OF GOLD - - -The favourite game with Noah’s Ark was to make the nursery table -an Island of Delight. The Delight must have centred in the -looking-glasses, which, with frames discreetly hidden in moss, mirrored -in their unruffled surfaces forms of numerous ducks and geese and other -less decided species of birds. Certainly the other furnishings of the -Island were not particularly delightful, for it was thickly populated -with wild beasts of horrid aspect and defective limbs, and specimens of -that strange pinkish animal of which Noah is so fond, and which may be -classified with equal probability as a Dingo or a Wild Boar. - -My earliest ideas of an Oasis were combined of this Island of Delight -and of the description of Elim. The Oasis would be round as the nursery -table; it would be covered with lush green grass like a water-meadow. -It would have about seventy palm-trees standing at fairly regular -intervals, and between the palm-trees there would be (instead of the -looking-glasses) bubbling springs of water crystal-clear. - -When at last I saw an Oasis it was unlike my vision--my Vision of -Delight. There was no grass, but there were more palm-trees; there were -no crystal fountains, but trickles of brown water in sandy channels. -It came up to my ideal in one point only--there was none of that -indefiniteness of outline which is so repulsive to the simple mind. -Even as you can stand on the bridge above Mentone, and see a milestone -with France on one side and a milestone with Italy on the other, so -here you could take your stand and say “That on my right hand is -Desert, and that on my left is Oasis.” - -We had been travelling all day over the sandy, dusty plains of North -Africa; we had found little to eat at the shed-like stations except -blue cheese and musty bread; and towards evening we entered a rocky -defile. At the end of this defile they said were the Gates of Gold. -There was not much to see and the train loitered on. - -Suddenly we saw at the end of the valley two great escarpments of -reddish rock; at their foot leaned one palm-tree, behind was a glimpse -of blue hills. The evening sunlight fell golden on the Golden Gates -as we passed through and suddenly cried out, for everywhere below us -spread a sea of waving palm-trees. This was the Oasis. - -The Oasis lay on a plain so flat that the horizon to the south curved -like the horizon of the sea; and like little clouds resting on the -ocean here and there an oasis showed greyish green in the distance. -To the north lay a range of hills, which guarded the enchanted place -from the world of men. The flatness drew the soul with a strange -attraction, until one longed to go out over it farther than eye could -reach, anywhere or nowhere. The desert was in sandy ridges like a badly -ploughed field; isolated tufts of a heath-like plant grew here and -there; often there lay on the ground, as if spilled from a cart, yellow -apples, reddening invitingly. Evil fruits these are, full of dust and -bitterness, and even the camel will not eat them. - -But within the Oasis were golden oranges, juicy, like no oranges you -eat here, for they ripen on the dark, glossy trees; there were gardens -of purple fig and yellow citrons large as the head of an Arab child; -and the dates were sweet and large, and half transparent in their -candied clusters. - -But the enchanted time was when the moon was high, its silver light was -faintly tinged with rose; then one walked under the palm-trees, and -light and shadow lay like silver and ebony across the path, interlacing -and waving if some faint breeze stirred them, and the strange, sweet -odours of the East lay warm and thick, and the tinkle of Arab sounds -were in our ears, and the slim brown figures moved across the path; -and we went back to dream of silver lights and waving, ebon shadows. - -And one morning we went away from the Oasis, and passed through the -Gates of Gold, and back into the world of men, to find we had been but -two days away. - - - - -THE LAKE WITHIN THE WORLD - - - - -II - -THE LAKE WITHIN THE WORLD - - -There were other such enchanted places in this land, and one could -step aside from the high-road of life into a place of fantasy and -sweet illusion. The dawdling, leisured train set us down one day at a -wayside station. No houses were in sight, but behind a clump of trees -a cloud of steam rose into the air, as if all the world was a-washing. -The train dawdled away across the plain and we went towards the -trees to find ourselves in face of a shining, misty waterfall. The -white stone was streaked with grey and pink; the water boiled up in -little cauldrons and fell down in a cloud of steam; at the bottom of -the dazzling rocks oleanders bent over the warm streams, maiden-hair -fringed the banks; hoary olives with twisted trunks rose above the -oleanders. - -While we still waited there came up from the side of the steaming river -a splendid figure--a woman all in scarlet hung about with silvery -chains. “That,” said the guide, “is the washer-woman.” We climbed up -behind the waterfall, where it sprang in its strange excitement out of -the earth, and found a stone courtyard, built round with little empty -houses, one of these prepared for us. - -While we paused at the door a moment, I saw between the stones a tiny -plant--a plant to conjure with. It is like clover, splashed with -crimson. A poet who wore the Red Cap has said that this crimson is the -blood of Spring, and, to him, a drop of his own heart’s blood. - -A French family were living here in a clean, empty house with airy -guest-rooms; and while they regaled us with wild-boar’s flesh they -talked of the topics of their day: how the jackals howled about the -courtyard in winter; how the rugged way to the Roman City was not yet -open; how the locusts came down ten years ago, swarm upon swarm, till -you could hear the sound of the eating of their hosts by night; how -they devoured fruit and leaf and bark like the “army” in Joel, and then -melted like snow under the sun. - -In this strange, quiet land we slept well, and went out next day over -the pleasant undulating plain, watered by warm streams with their -bordering of oleander and fern, and sheltered by olive and carob. - -At last we came to a place where a grassy bank swept round us in a half -circle. “Fourteen years ago,” said the guide “the shepherds feeding -their flocks close by heard a great noise, and running hither saw the -earth had fallen in,” and he pointed as he spoke to a crack in the side -of the bank, just such a rent as a great tree makes when it falls, -tearing its roots out of the ground. “Into that,” he said, “you must -go.” - -So we went towards it in faith, and found when we got there a man could -easily pass in. As we descended into the hot twilight inside the ground -a bat flew out. We went down-hill until the guide stopped us, where -there seemed to lie at our feet a little blue dust over the stones, -for this was the still blue water of a lake that stretched away into -deep and deeper darkness. As we stood we heard out of the darkness the -splash of oars, a light shone on the water, and round the sheer wall -of rock on the right came a boat with a lantern at its prow. - -Into this we stepped, and it moved on into the deep shadows. Out of the -dark water rose great stalagmites like columns, and stalactites dropped -to meet them like heavy pendants from some vaulted roof. We moved round -rocky chambers where the lantern shone on the walls, and through halls -whose boundaries were unrevealed; all sense of direction and of time -was lost till a flash of lightning seemed to fall on the water. It -was only the reflected light of a grey day, filtered through the rent -in the earth down which we had come, but after that great darkness it -seemed dazzling. - -So we went up again to the light of day, and back through that -pleasant land. But when we came away, I brought with me a leaf of the -crimson-splashed clover “to witness if I lie.” - - - - -A DESERT CITY - - - - -III - -A DESERT CITY - - “He seems as one whose footsteps halt - Toiling in immeasurable sand - And o’er a weary sultry land - Sown in a wrinkle of the monstrous hill - The city sparkles like a grain of salt.” - - -In the desert not twenty miles from Cairo there has sprung up the -mushroom growth of a wonder-working Health Resort. It possesses several -hotels, an “Establishment,” a golf links, and everything which a -really desirable Health Resort must possess.[1] But at the time when -I first knew that tract of sand on which it stands the case was far -otherwise. If one must have summarized the attractions of the place -they would have run:-- - - Fifteen pyramids Distant - One palm-tree Distant - Several ill-smelling streams Quite close - Flat sandy desert Near and distant - - A perfectly bare range of low hills beginning half a mile away and - reaching to Arabia. - -An English advertisement of foreign appearance bore witness to these -charms and ended with a striking appeal to leave for desert air “the -filthy, stinking city,” as it characterized Grand Cairo. - -We responded to the appeal, and went to stay in a hotel of large -corridors and wide balconies which looked out upon the fifteen -pyramids. Opposite was a small, bare house called Villa Mon Bijou. The -town was planted on a desert so flat that it seemed a German toy town -set upon a table; only there were no trees with curly green foliage -to be seen, because no one might plant a living thing unless by order -from Government.[2] Neat little pavements with new little gas lamps -traversed it rectangularly, and came every way to an abrupt stop in -heavy desert sand. There was a tiny English church, in which the few -English Christians staying in the place assembled. Little flat-roofed -villas like coloured cardboard boxes stood back from the pavement with -strange ornaments above the gate; here a stone eagle with knees turned -outwards, there a stuffed fox. Backwards and forwards we went under -noontide sun to the baths, and were told to rest in the Khedive’s -sitting-room, upholstered with yellow satin. - -One would have thought that nothing so brand-new could have been found -in sight of the pyramid of Unas and the cemetery of Sakkara. Even death -seemed glaringly recent. One day we drove in the desert and searched -the horizon for objects of interest. “What is that?” we said, pointing -to a small building on the outskirts of the town. “That,” replied Saïd -with pride, “is the new slaughter-house.” “And this enclosure?” “The -English cemetery.” “And that yonder?” “The Italian mortuary.” “What is -that which looks like a village on the hill?” “That is the Mahommedan -burying-place.” “And that beyond?” “Another graveyard.” Then he drove -us through a valley of Hinnom, where we marked, among other things, a -dead camel and a dead calf; and as we passed between the windmill and -the ill-smelling stream we saw three coffins lie, brand-new, unguarded -and alone. - -But towards evening a certain magic fell upon the place. We had gone -one day towards the single palm-tree in the desert. Miles and miles of -sand and air, unstirred by any slightest sound, seemed to lie between -us and that solitary tree, and when we reached it nothing could be seen -but the slot of beasts around it. - -Then as we turned the light began to change. Behind the fifteen -pyramids the sky glowed scarlet till it tinged the water of the -Nile with blood. Far up in the blue hung an ethereal arc of crimson -light; the heaven deepened to indigo where it met night; kindled -into indescribable sapphire where it touched the dying day; the -conflagration grew till at last earth glowed its answer to the sky with -a purple flood rising and deluging sand-hills and valley. - -As we neared the toy town with its twinkling lights the glow had died -away, and there gloomed before us dimly a knoll round which knelt the -camels of the Bedawîn; the figures which moved beside them with dark, -fine profile and the white cloths round their heads seemed like Magi -come to greet the Royal Child. - -Again we went up the hills which, like a low rampart, bordered the -plain to the east. At the foot they were carved into quarries of a -stone so white that it seemed like wedges cut in a great cream cheese. -The hills were barren, but for a few straggling plants and grasses -about; like a raised map or the skeleton of the world. Yet as we went -on we still found always in front, like the marks on the carriage -drive, a curving, trodden road, winding up vanishing out of sight. - -While we stood looking at the loneliness there came daintily stepping, -with embroidered shoes and black silk mantles round them, a party of -women to meet us; in front a man carried a child. I cannot but think -that they vanished into thin air when they had passed us. - -Or again one might descend towards the river, on the road between the -fields. There as the sky lights its fires towards evening the men would -leave their work and stand with dripping feet on their coarse outer -garment by the water’s edge to say the evening prayer. Near the town -stood a sycamore, under which, on a raised platform, some men prayed -loud and lustily five times a day. “God likit them very much,” said the -donkey-boy; but with cynical estimation of the importance of this fact -he added, “If I bray, where is my business?” - -A brougham on the road as we returned: Europe is at one side. But -within sat a woman golden haired, with her veil pushed back and a -cigarette between her teeth. That one passing, demure and dignified, -with an attendant wrinkled and stately, is a Princess walking for -her health. Here two in a victoria, with transparent veils and Paris -bonnets, show Turkish emancipation; and the shut and blinded brougham -with a Sudanese on the box gives sign of Arab propriety. - -And now as the town is reached we begin to see the meaning of this -modern city; those high walls are not merely meant to hide a garden -of flowers, nor does the lattice serve only to keep the sunlight from -fading Eastern fabrics. But behind the pierced work of that window -peers some Scheherazade at her story-weaving, wondering what life -means, “half sick of shadows.” There is the Pasha’s house, and the -whisper goes that these are slaves. - -A strange, pathetic figure trod this road daily, a man of aquiline -face, brown skin, and pointed beard, dressed in a fine embroidered -garment of scarlet with white cloth falling on his shoulders. - -Evening by evening he left the town, and squatting by one of the -sulphur streams looked out with level eyes towards the farthest horizon -of the south, his beads held idly in his hands. That man, we learned, -was the Pasha’s gatekeeper and came from the Sudan. - -One day a crowd ran and digged by the side of this stream. “What are -they doing?” we asked, and the answer was that they were making a -garden. It will surely blossom like the rose--but not on those flowers -will the gatekeeper gaze. - -In the evening when the moon has risen, and a great star close to -her tip hangs the banner of the Moslems in heaven, the magic is most -potent. Then the flat-roofed houses become palaces of marble, and among -the dark figures stealing through the street you look for Mesrour on -his secret errands, that he may show you the mysteries of life and -death behind veil and wall and lattice. Then one may well believe that -over at Sakkara under the sand-hills the dead are sitting in their -carven chambers, to play their games and cast their spells and eat and -drink. - -And yet in Europe they talk of freeing Egypt, and speak of the -“patriot” dervish; and at Gordon’s death-place, where the gatekeeper -was born and from which he was stolen, they entertain the Pasha with -the honours of a burgess. - -Who wakes? who dreams? Surely the Western eye sees clear, which looks -on the place in the searching noonday light; for it is the hand of the -Western that planted Villa Mon Bijou and raised the gas lamps. - -Leave it then with its neat realities and its fancied magic; draw away -over the sand towards the Great River and the dwellings of the dead; -and as one might see across the great ocean a line of reef built up by -tiny busy insects, so look back once to see over “immeasurable sand,” -“the city sparkle like a grain of salt.” - - - - -THE OTHER SIDE - - - - -IV - -THE OTHER SIDE - - -When Alice went through the Looking-glass, she sprang down into a world -where a change had passed on all familiar things; so that she must walk -away from the things she wanted to arrive at, and time ran backwards -and stopped. When a merman brought a girl through the translucent -mirror of the water to be his wife in the great caves below the sea, -she heard but dimly the church bell and the sounds of the world above, -and saw but seldom its sights when she rose through the bay. And when -Tom slipped into the stream he found himself in a great empty world -below the water; and it was not for some time that he was able even to -see the crowds of merry water-babies with which it was peopled. - -We had often looked into the looking-glass from a little village on -the bank of a great river. Sometimes this river was only a river of -muddy water; sometimes towards evening, when no wind ruffled its -surface, it was a mirror of burnished metal, reflecting the fires of -the west; sometimes a river of molten gold. Sometimes, when the sky was -bright above, it was a stretch of sapphire, edged with gold and set -in emerald, for beyond the sandy shore of the river lay a great sea -of green corn--few trees were there, but the waving corn, and animals -pasturing in luxuriant vetch; and beyond this again began the sandy -desert, which stretched away to the bases of the hills. - -So the River ran, dividing the country, and the two sides of it have -been called since the beginning of history _the two lands_. The River -was broad, and so deep that the reptiles of the one side have never -been able to cross to the other, and the lizards of the two lands are -of quite different kinds. - -But just at the edge of the desert you begin to see traces of quite -a different kind of life, the giant images of people long dead, and -their temples; behind in the cliff you may see, even from across the -river, the doors of rock-hewn chambers which are called the Eternal -Habitations. That side of the river is called the City of the Dead. - -Now the people of the village opposite used to speak of going over to -the “Other Side.” They crossed the river, and rode through the fields -of waving corn, and the men and women who moved among the fields, who -tethered the beasts to pasture, the little children who drove oxen -in the creaking _sakhieh_ seemed like figures of a picture to them; -and when they reached the City of the Dead, the desert places of the -Eternal Habitations, the Silent Citizens were unperceived by them, -their voices were unheard; or they seemed to see but rude stone -figures of an earlier age, dead bodies, unskilful paintings on the -wall. Before they could recognize the living men they had turned back -and recrossed the river, and never knew that they had been so near the -mysteries of the “Other Side.” - -But when you came to live in the country on the Other Side the aspect -of it was altogether different. At the back, the country was walled in -by precipices of rock, a great golden wall from which spurs ran down -on to the desert. If you climbed up the first ridge to get a farther -view you saw ridge on ridge of the same barren hills, with golden rocky -defiles, reflecting back and back again the eastern sunlight. At -certain hours of the day a stream of people, like small ants, poured -up one valley, over a hill and back again across the river; otherwise -there was never a sign of human life, except that, from peak to peak, -at far distances, you might see a little rock-built shelter, and the -solitary figure of a watchman who guarded the chambers of the dead. - -Between the hills and the cultivated lands are lower hills, half rock, -half sand, with sandy slopes. In the sand there gaped holes about the -paths as you rode or walked, and looking down you might peer into a -chamber, sculptured with images of men and women sitting at feasts; or -higher up in the hill you would see a squared doorway of stone facing -sometimes a great courtyard, and entering, you might find a pillared -chamber, gold vessels and jewelled boats painted on the wall; here a -picture of a man propelling his bark through marshy groves populous -with birds, there one driving the plough, and a woman sowing corn; here -a kingly child on his nurse’s knee; there the antelope caught by the -dogs and dripping blood from the hunter’s arrow. The longer one lived -here the more one began to see of these doors in the hillside and holes -in the ground, until it seemed that the whole mountain was honeycombed -with the rock-hewn chambers. Sometimes you might cross a courtyard -where the eastern slope of a hill lay in cool shadow; pass through one -painted room after another, chapel and shrine, shrine and chapel, and -so come out on the other side of the hill still golden in the light of -the setting sun.[3] - -Down below these rocks, clustering round the doorways of the lowest -slopes, are brown houses that a day’s rain can bring to ruin, villages -like a child’s building in sand; open yards, sheds thatched with straw, -erections in mud like gigantic mushrooms with upturned brim; and for -the more permanent part of the habitation these childish builders have -borrowed the rocky chambers. - -For the truth is that two races of people inhabit this country. The -one race are like merry, selfish children, though a mystery of -simplicity hangs about them like the mystery of the hidden life of a -child. In their villages ring sounds of men and animals all day and -all night; voices are hoarse with talking and singing; it seems like -a great orchestra of the inhabitants. Up to the middle of the night -donkeys chant their canon, cocks blow their clarion; all day you -hear the groaning of camels, the agitated voices of kids and lambs, -the lamentable cries of their mothers; towards evening the lowing of -kine as they return from the _sakhieh_, the fury of the dogs, the -provocative cry of the jackal, and sometimes as night falls the long, -weird howling of the wolf. Then when the moon is full the children -sing in chorus, apeing the elder boys at their work; the workers of -the day are the feasters of the night, and drum and song help on the -fantasia. Here is merriment and noise, complaint, vociferous demand, -swift anger, cheerfulness again; the ragged children and young animals -race and play from simple excess of vitality. - -Yet all this noise is like the chattering of a brook in a quiet place, -though it beats loud upon the ear it is as powerless against the great -quiet of the desert as lapping waves against a rocky shore. - -For the other race that lives here is silent, yet their words have -gone out into the ends of the world. You leave the villages and mount -the hill, and the noise comes fainter from below. You pass through -the chambers and see these greater people live their lives and learn -from the writing on the wall what “he saith.” You go towards evening -up some valley of golden rocks, where the sunlight reflected from the -sand shines on the shadowed cliff like the shining of a hidden lake, -and find in a fold of the hill a little empty temple of old time; or -descending rocky steps pass into a chamber where the walls present -great deeds of state, ambassadors clad in fine embroidered dresses -bring foreign tribute of nations long perished, precious things of gold -and gem, strange beasts from far countries. Or when clouds are chasing -through a moonlit sky you pass up a road between sand-hills towards -a temple of these silent races; its white pillars and colonnades now -flash out silver in a sudden gleam of light; and now the shadow of a -cloud passing with purple bloom over the hill above annihilates courts -and terraces, until it seems a magician’s wand is at work, destroying -and re-creating this ghostly building. - -Or at evening you ride through the place of tombs; the sun has sunk, -and a glow, orange and red, gives a sharp outline to the hills. Out of -the holes in the ground come an army of little shadows, sweeping faster -than the eye can follow them over the unlevel ground; and from the -rocks on the left peers out a sharp nose and ears, and the jackal runs -with heavy drooping tail across the path, and dodges behind a big stone -to peer out with insatiable curiosity as you pass; or in the night one -hears the cry of a wild cat caught and torn by the dogs. - -There are no merry flocks of birds here as in the cultivated land -below, and but little sound of their voices. The sparrow indeed, who -holds nothing sacred, chatters his minute affairs in the great silence; -the discreet wagtail runs about the ledges of the rocks, the black and -white chat bows on a stone. But the most part are seen on the wing; the -soft grey martin, with its atmosphere of domestic peace, hovers about -the Eternal Habitations, thinking to rear its young in the chambers of -the dead; the swallows made wild by their long flight, and loosed from -the restraints of the North, build their nests on the cliff, and sweep -at sunset, with musical screams, up and down the face of the rock; -great kites circle above in the hot noonday, let fall sometimes their -weird whistling cry, circling on and on till the vast blue engulfs -them; and once, high in the sky towards evening, there came a flight of -cranes, who wheeled, split, and recrossed, then gathered decision and -moved stately in black and white northwards. - -All luxuriance of life had vanished. Even as time seemed to have stood -still, and the people learnt their arts and crafts from those who -died six thousand years ago, so growth seemed to have vanished from -the visible world. Now and then as you wandered up a valley a single -blade of barley shone like a gem half hidden by a stone; or some plant, -desert-coloured, spread, dry greyish tufts, where the ground retained -invisible moisture. But life hung suspended, and the longer you dwelt -in the country the more you perceived that you were living in the City -of the Dead. Sometimes one forgot how days and weeks were passing, and -again a thousand years were but as yesterday, a watch in the night. The -noises of the outside world came but faintly: once, we heard the sound -of a nation weeping and the nations of the earth sorrowing with it, -and again the sober welcome to one who came to take upon him the burden -of the State. - -So they sorrowed four thousand years ago--not without hope. “A hawk -has soared--the follower of the god met his maker.” So the officers of -State welcomed the son who should take its cares upon him. And on that -very night when with grief and praise the nation laid to rest a Queen -and mother in the fullness of her age, our eyes looked on, resting -untouched, deep in the recesses of the rock, among the mystic symbols -of his faith, the body of a king swathed still and garlanded who died -three thousand years before that Queen was born. - -The sounds of war came dimly, for the pictures of far earlier wars -might meet the eyes day by day; and when we came on the bodies of those -men who warred and taught and lived and enjoyed, alert in the chase, -quiescent in the cool breath of their gardens, they lay quiet with -their ornaments perhaps upon them, a garland round their neck, a book -between their feet. - -But when at last returning we came down to the fields, we saw that -time indeed had passed. The corn which was but sprouting when we came, -was full in the ear, and the barley was yellowing to harvest; the -bean-flower had opened, spread its fragrance and passed; the purple -vetch still lingered; the poppy raised an imperial head. Clouds of -gay, thieving sparrows rose as we passed; the crested lark ran before -us, sprang and hovered with a few notes of liquid song; tiny birds -hung on the barley blades; the whistle of the quail came from the deep -green where it hid. The river spread before us like a highway paved -with sapphire; so we passed along it to the north and the voices of the -world we belonged to rung out clearer as we moved; and behind us there -faded like a dream that world whose present is four thousand years of -time with the insistence of its silent voices, the permanence of the -dead, the fleeting brightness of the living. - - - - -THE SILENT ROMANCE - - - - -V - -THE SILENT ROMANCE - - -The cock has been defying Achmet Bukdadi again to-day. - -It is a very little cock, hardly larger than a bantam; its plumage -betokens a fine disregard of race; if you were pressed you might -suggest a remote relationship to a game-cock. The cries of Achmet -Bukdadi drew me to the window to see the cock, feathers raised, -parading angrily and scornfully in front of him. Achmet’s cries -attracted two or three other children, and they ran about on our -terrace trying to hustle the cock off the edge of it. Finally one -courageous boy lifted him by the wings, and put him on the back of -another, whence he descended with feathers and dignity ruffled to the -ground, while the children dispersed shrieking and laughing. - -Achmet had a more prompt ally two days ago, when the cock was doing -sentry-go before their front yard gate and would not let Achmet go -home. His cries called his mother to his aid, and she came evidently -prepared for the crisis, for she straightway threw the wand which was -in her hand with unerring aim, and the cock fled vanquished down the -village rubbish-heap. - -Achmet’s mother is the most silent and most graceful woman in the -village. She is the youngest of Bukdadi’s two wives; the other must be -the mother of the sullen looking boy who lounges after our water-donkey -up and down the hill, for she is grey haired, while Achmet’s mother has -thick black plaits under her blue head veil. She is not indifferent to -matters of dress, for her outer wrapping is edged with crimson. She -seems far more active than the other woman, and all her movements, in -the most menial occupation, show an unconscious grace which tempts one -to the full use of unusual advantages of observation. Her grace is not -the tender quality often so-called, but a robust deftness and certainty -of action. She had to drive a lame donkey to the water the other day, -and in the strokes of her staff there was no more pity for the little -beast, halting and hurrying between two diverse pains, than for her -own burdened womanhood. The donkey must drink; she herself would bring -water for the household in the great earthenware pot balanced on her -head. Hesitation for the animal was as much out of the question as -help for her from the stepson who lounged past her with his stick held -behind his shoulders. - -So she urged the animal to the pool beneath the tamarisks, and I doubt -not mounted the hill again with all the speed that nature would allow. - -It is well, perhaps, that she is taciturn in a yard so populous--the -other wife, the two sons, Bukdadi himself, seldom seen, a girl, -daughter or slave, and the little Achmet, not to speak of the -animals--the white camel in the corner nearest the gate, the neat black -water-donkey next him, for the invalid one occupies the innermost -corner, the bullocks who move with deference at her bidding, besides -Achmet’s enemy the cock with his harîm, and the pigeons. I cannot be -sure that the brown sheep belong to this yard; they are always being -driven out, it is true, but whenever they are not being driven out -they are going in; and it appeared that the black goat with two kids -was preparing to spend the night in the hollow stem of the mud fungus, -on the family platform. What makes conclusions less certain, however, -is that the grey kid now dances up and down hill with the boy in the -yellow-striped dress, and that the sheep have more than once called on -us in our dining-room. - -Among all these Achmet’s mother moves, sober, taciturn, efficient. One -wonders when the transition comes from the laughing children to the -serious, burdened woman. Marriage is not the turning-point, for little -Saïda, with her round face and dark eyes and blue-patterned little -chin, is married, though she still prefers to live with her father -and be an occasional visitor at her husband’s house. And what there -is of demureness in Saïda compared to the ragged Ahm Ibrahim in wild -neglected gaiety is produced evidently not by her marriage but by her -blue dress and her red dress, her necklace and her earrings. - -The burden of the household, but above all the care of the children, -must work the change, and the trace of tenderness that there is about -Achmet’s mother seems all for Achmet. She exercises no repressive -influence on him, for Achmet, with his grubby black dress, his thin, -merry, ugly little face with even rows of little white teeth as he -lisps his greeting--Achmet, whether cantering about on a dhurra stalk, -or pretending to be a man carrying stones with his grandfather, or -climbing over his neighbours’ walls, is always gay. - -He takes the unexpected gift without that deliberate anticipation of -favours to come which is the first acquirement of the Arab baby; and in -his pleasures and his woes alike Achmet flies to his mother, conveys to -her his bakshîsh of sugar-cane; wails to her when the cock is warlike -and threatening. - -She had him with her one evening in the great mud chalice which forms -larder, barn, and summer chamber of the Arab house. - -The sun had gone down, but a certain unreal glow lay on the hill behind -the village; night was purpling the sky; her figure rose out of the -shadowy cup powerful and graceful, with the child crouched at her feet; -the work of the day was over, her heart’s desire was with her. - -To-day she could not come to the child when he called, for but two -nights ago there was a movement and whispering at midnight in the yard -of Bukdadi, and the wail arose of a voice smaller and younger than that -of little Achmet. So the mother rests. - - - - -THE COURT OF THE KING - - - - -VI - -THE COURT OF THE KING - - “Sealed within the iron hills.” - - -THE APPROACH - -The moon had risen as we rode down the steep, sandy road and threaded -our way through the little mud enclosures, where dogs, alive for the -excitement of the night, were prowling on the walls, listening with -ears pricked up for warnings of enemies, looking with vigilant eyes -for some alien to draw near. As we crossed into that part of the -village where they did not know us, a hoarse storm of barking filled -the air, but in a minute or two we had passed beyond this, and were -out among the sand-hills between the tombs, where the whole plain was -flooded with a misty, uncertain light. - -Song and merry-making had begun in the villages, for the full moon is -festival for those who have no artificial light; but the thud of the -drums, the sound of children’s voices, and the barking of dogs faded -and died away, and we came out into a great emptiness, threading a -narrow path between the tumbled heaps; on each side the tombs gaped -dimly at our feet. On the right hand we looked far away over desert -and field to the great dark pylons of a temple across the river: on the -left rose sharply the sandy spur of the hill we were rounding. No one -was in sight and on no side could we see any human habitation. - -We turned round the spur of the hill into a boulder-strewn valley, -arid and silent. Even at midday there is little sign of life here, -except on certain days when a stream of people traverse it and return; -otherwise you find but a chance sown seed, dropped in a favourable -spot; a withering leaf let fall by some traveller, a stray pigeon, -an “evil bird” the Arabs think, who has left the abode of men and -foresworn its final service for their use, to live its hermit life -in the wilderness. Otherwise you see but the golden limestone rocks, -radiating back the golden Egyptian sunshine. Then all is bare and keeps -no secret, for the very shadows are broken by reflected light. - -But now the colour of the limestone showed but faintly in the white -light, and the shadows fell dark from boulder and rocks. The valley was -empty of life, penetrated with mystery. - -There, as we turned, at an angle of the path was a figure, solitary in -the moonlight, a man in a long, dark garment, holding by him his donkey -with a sheepskin over its saddle. He stood waiting here to give us a -message, and having delivered it went back by the way we had come. -And now looking back we could see nothing of mud village or vast old -temple, no living man of the present, no stone memorial of the past; we -were alone in a world half lit, wholly empty, stone and sand as far as -eye could see, with an empty sky above where the moon had quenched all -lesser lights. - -The valley, which we began to see more clearly, was narrow and rose -steeply on each side; the ground beneath our feet looked like a -river-bed, on each side of which were large boulders casting deep -black shadows. From time to time the rocks which walled the valley so -crossed one another that it seemed the way was barred in front of us, -until, as we neared it, we found the road swept round a corner of rock. -Turning such a corner, again we found three people silently awaiting -us, two of them the companions who had preceded us; the third a slim -figure all in white, on foot with a staff in his hand. He was a man of -some authority over the guard, who, as we learned later, had lain seven -years in jail for a murder. He ran with noiseless steps in front of us, -and so heralded we went on to where the valley broadened out a little, -branching to the right; and at the entrance a great rock jutting out of -the cliff seemed in the moonlight to take a fantastic likeness to some -colossal statue of a king, carved, you would have said, by an Egyptian -of old. - -Our path led us to the left, and here the cliffs began to close in on -us, until they rose like a wall on each side of a narrow way, at once -so steep and so rugged that we could not tell whether the defile was -natural or the work of man. It led at last to where a wall of rock, -barring the way, had been rudely cut through. In this rough gateway -we halted--behind us the rocky passage through which we had come; -before us, as far as we could see, the hills ran down, like a great -amphitheatre, to a floor of tumbled sand-heaps. - -Here, as we halted, one of our companions blew a whistle, and the next -moment the hills re-echoed to the sound of a gun. After a moment’s -pause he blew again, and now dark-draped figures suddenly appeared -among the desolate rocks, running noiselessly towards us. After a -moment all but two or three dispersed again, and we rode forward with -the white, slim figure still in front and two men in flowing dark -garments following us behind. - -The great emptiness, the silence, the white, uncertain light by which -the rocks showed faintly tinged with the rose and golden colour of the -limestone, the dark figures suddenly appearing, noiselessly moving, -dispersing into the night; the strange, desolate valley winding through -all apparent barriers into the heart of the hills seemed like a dream. -Surprise vanished; even observation was dulled. - -So we went forward to the head of the valley, ringed about with sheer -mountain walls, and perceived that here the mounds which lay about the -way gaped with open mouths, and we could see the moonlight shining -through grated doors on the painted walls of galleries that ran down -deep into the hill. - -These we passed, and dismounting from our beasts, climbed a little -mound, turned behind a projecting buttress of rock, and found ourselves -opposite to a door cut in the cliff. One of the men who had followed -us went in and left us for a while sitting without in the moonlight. - - -THE PRESENCE - -The great square doorway of the tomb showed inky black on the face of -the cliff, golden in the moonlight; the shaft plunged steeply downwards -into the rock, with short, high steps roughly cut against one wall. -Down these we slowly made our way, the utter darkness pricked here and -there by the flame of a candle in some one’s hand. A flame shone for -a moment on the little shelf cut back into the rock, where the string -bed and wooden pillow of the guard still wait his return, just where he -went out and left them so many thousand years ago. The steps stopped -suddenly on the edge of a pit deep and broad; by the light of a candle -held high we could dimly see the red and blue patterns painted on its -plastered walls. A hole had been broken through them on the opposite -side of the chasm, and crossing by a little plank bridge we crept -through, still deeper into the heart of the cliff. On the other side of -the wall the tunnel still went downwards, but the faint light showed -a deep alcove to the right. On the rocky floor lay a man, bound upon -a crumbling wooden boat; the painful bonds still held the brown and -shrivelled limbs, his knees drawn up, his head pressed back. - -Again down the steep stairway we climbed, feeling along the rough-cut -wall, and again at the bottom a chamber opened to the right. A man, a -woman, and a girl lie here, side by side in the middle of the floor. -They have suffered the indignity of stripping; wounds are in their -breasts; the thick black hair upon their heads makes the small faces -and limbs seem the more withered and unhuman. It is a pitiful sight. - -For the third time the rock-hewn ladder led us down to the square-cut -doorway which opened to the presence-chamber of a king of Egypt. -The great hall stretched back into the darkness, dimly lighted by -hidden candles, heavy with the silence of three thousand years. The -faint gleam fell upon the painted walls and pillars of the eternal -dwelling-place, the work of such far-off hands clear and fresh with -the freshness of yesterday. On the great square pillars Amenhetep -still feels the fullness of his earthly life and draws strength from -mysterious communing with the life-giving god. On the walls a huge -papyrus seems unrolled where the spirit of the King, in the depth -of the nether world, may learn to wrestle with and overthrow the -serpent-monsters brought by each gloomy Hour. At the back of the hall -two steps lead down to the high vaulted space where stands the great -rose-granite sarcophagus. In the darkness and the silence the lid or -the inner coffin was raised and we were in the presence of the King. - -The dim-veiled figure lay before us, wrapt in an inexpressible mystery, -the impress of his kingship still upon him, crowned with the greater -dignity of death. Far from the loved Egyptian sunshine, from the sweet -breath of the north wind, from the fleeting ways of men, the inhabitant -of the rock holds his solemn court through the centuries which have no -power upon him, with the records of his life and warfare around him and -the mimosa wreaths upon his breast. - - [Since the above was written plunderers penetrated into the tomb in - the absence of the guard, and the body of Amenhetep II. no longer - rests in his Eternal Habitation.] - - - - -THE GOLDEN DAHABEAH - - - - -VII - -THE GOLDEN DAHABEAH - - -I - -Mahmoud was crouched on the hot sand, in the shade of a great granite -figure of an old Egyptian king. On the temple wall at his right hand -was incised the figure of a large hawk, which had a certain life-like -stare and stride. Below lay the thick green lake; a little pied -kingfisher fluttered and poised over it. Mahmoud’s donkey had strayed -a little from his owner, and was pulling at some few blades of thin, -straggling weed. The Father of the Box, who had ridden him out to -Karnak, had some foolish prejudice against tying up donkeys’ heads. -Mahmoud explained that it prevented the donkey from having a headache; -but Englishmen always want things done in their own way. - -Yet as Mahmoud sat dreaming, his eyes fixed on the water, he was -thinking of none of these things. Rather he was dreaming of little -Fatma, Fatma whom he had run and played with as a little girl--but now -she was old enough to be married. He had seen Fatma as they came out; -she was carrying a waterpot on her head, and the slender fingers were -tipped with henna; her hair was plaited over her brow, and the large -blue-studded rings in her ears swayed as she ran. She held her veil -firmly in her small, white teeth, and only gave him one look, half shy, -half merry, as she passed. - -Mahmoud’s father and mother said he must be married this year. He -wished to marry no one but little Fatma; but ah! the marriage-gift. - -He stared at the smooth, thick water, and droned a little song--“Oh, -great holy gardener, let me into the garden.” - -The sun was just going down, and as Mahmoud turned idly, half lost -in his dreaming, the rays struck the wall where was the image of the -hawk, and the boy stood breathless, for the hawk was all of gold, and -as he looked the fierce head turned a little. - -Through his maze came the voice of the Father of the Box, crying to him -to get the donkey. - -A moment he started and turned, but when he looked again there was -nothing but the stone hawk carved on the wall; and again came the call, -as the Englishman and the “box” came round the corner. - -Mahmoud gasped and panted: “The chicken is all gold.” - -“Oh, the Golden Horus,” said the Father of the Box, giving the precious -camera into Mahmoud’s hand. “Hurry up and fetch the donkey, it is -getting dark and damp.” - -But he did not ask how a donkey-boy should know the Golden Horus. - - -II - -The donkey-boys were sitting outside the garden gate of the hotel. -Mahmoud was against the wall, and taking little part in the flow of -conversation. - -“Achmet Effendi will make a big feast to-morrow,” said one. “He has -killed two sheep for his feast.” - -“Achmet Effendi is a very rich man,” said Maouad. “Twenty years ago he -sent his servant Gameel Gameel to dig up stones to burn and lay on his -field, there where the English ‘_sidi matre_’ (cemetery) is. But Gameel -Gameel found a big pot of golden coins and he brought them all back -to Achmet Effendi. For ten years they kept them hidden, then Achmet -Effendi sold them for much money and became a rich man. That is why he -loves Gameel Gameel better than his son.” - -“Gameel Gameel was a great fool,” said Hassan flippantly. “Why should -he not become a rich man himself?” - -Kuku was speaking aside to Gorgius. - -“I tell my lady that I am going to be married to Fatma. I say to her: -‘I see Fatma in the market; I like her very much and she likes me very -much. My mother has arranged it for me. If you give me an English -handkerchief,’ I say to my lady, ‘you shall come to my wedding.’” - -“Liar-boy!” said Gorgius scornfully; but Mahmoud feared and sighed in -himself. - -A small figure passed, and the light from the gas lamp showed a -withered old man with a white beard and smiling face. He wore a red -tarbûsh turbaned about with white, and trailed a green Mecca robe. - -“Mohammed Mohassib will have a big feast,” said one. “He has killed a -camel and made soup with it. The Father of the Beard said to Mohammed, -‘You will feed three hundred men to-morrow.’ Mohammed said, ‘I hope -more than that.’” - -“Mohammed Mohassib slept in the temple of Mut,” said Maouad; “that was -fifty years ago, when he was a boy. When the sun rose Mohammed saw the -golden hawk. He ran to catch it, but it flew away into the sky. One -feather fell from it, and Mohammed Mohassib picked it up. Then he was -a lucky man and became rich, and went to Mecca, and to-morrow he will -feed more than three hundred men.” - -Mahmoud’s ear was caught for the second time. “If a man sees the golden -bird will he be a lucky man?” he asked. - -“Oh, it is Mahmoud who will be the lucky man,” said Hassan, with a -laugh. “To-morrow when Abu el Haggag has done with his boat we shall -set it to float on the Lake of Karnak, and Mahmoud shall see it all -golden at night and shall swim out to it. But Mahmoud, he never speaks, -so when the sun strikes it the boat of Abu el Haggag will be for -Mahmoud.” - -A short silence followed this profane speech, for Abu el Haggag is the -great Saint of Luxor, and next day they held the procession of his -sacred boat. - -But Hassan rattled on. “I make no feast to-morrow. Everybody else -makes a feast. Nasr says every time he sees his lady he says, ‘I have -bought some sheep and some rice, and my wife has mixed them together -like so; my wife has made balls of them, and she will put them in the -oven to bake them. And I will bring you some.’ Every time he says that. -I would not eat Nasr’s balls. I will go to Rameses Bar and spend money -and drink whisky.” - -His audacity succeeded in making itself heard, which was chiefly what -he wanted. And he went on: “Mahmoud gets little money from the Father -of the Box. I say to the Father of the Box when he rides my donkey, -‘Give me more money, this is too little.’ He says, ‘Then I will beat -you.’ But I say to the Mother of the Nose, ‘I am a very poor boy; I am -only ten years old. My father send away my mother. Who shall give my -mother money?’ Then she says, ‘Oh, poor boy! here is some money.’ I -like these ladies. They are very foolish.” - -“Did you say to the Mother of the Nose ‘My mother is married again to a -rich man,’ oh liar?” asked Mahmoud. - -But at this moment the garden gate opened and a babel of voices -arose:--“Take my donkey; take my donkey; de best donkey in Luxor.” -“Here is Whisky and Soda; no donkey like so.” “Never you believe -nobody. Liar boy. Here is Rameses. Every day he win a race....” - - -III - -Abu el Haggag’s boat had come and passed, poor starveling -representative of the longest pedigree in the world. Here passed of old -the Sacred Bark of the gods, carrying the precious images and emblems, -the king burning incense before it, the oxen lotus-garlanded for the -sacrifice. - -And later this sacred bark lent its outward form to the Ark of the Most -High God, bearing the simple symbols of justice and mercy, in the long -desert wanderings and in the Holy Land. - -And now the poor, sordid boat on its little truck passed round; -charcoal burned instead of incense. With the feeble tradition the -Arabs tell that it was the boat in which Abu the Saint went to see his -friends. This is all that is left in their minds of that most ancient -idea--this and the golden vision of the boat at midnight on Karnak Lake. - -The droning noises of Arab music had died down as Mahmoud ran through -Luxor; a few beggars cleared the remnants of the feast of Mohammed -Mohassib; while the old man stood smiling in his doorway over the -memory of his lordly hospitality. He nodded kindly to Mahmoud running -by. - -After he passed the house Mahmoud paused; he did not dare to go on this -way--highway though it was--for he feared above all the afreet-haunted -bridge that he would have to pass. So he turned, and running down a -narrow way crossed the empty market-place and came out on the field -road. - -The light was dying down and the sky was cloudy; there was little mist, -but the scent of beanfields hung heavy on the air; the corn-blades -rustled as his dress swept them, running. The barking of the village -dogs died down behind him into silence, so that he started and nearly -fell when a little cue-owl mewed suddenly from a carob-tree. - -Down into the cutting, and as he mounted again his heart leaped into -his mouth, for a dark figure rose up above the corn. Then he remembered -that it was only the great lion-headed statue that sat lonely in the -fields, and he took courage again. - -When he came to the road he paused, debating. Which of the two ways to -the Lake? By the one he would have to pass the spot where that fierce -golden bird had turned to look at him yesterday. By the other way he -must go up the dark sphinx avenue, a very haunt of afreets. To go on -either way was dreadful; to stay here not less so; to go back, he was -persuaded now, would be to lose Fatma. - -He turned to the left and entered the sphinx avenue. A half-grown moon -struggling with the clouds now and again threw straggling and sharp -shadows of the palm leaves across his path, but more dreadful was the -dry rustling of the leaves on high when a cloud passed; before him -loomed the great arch. On each side the sphinxes--crouched like strange -creatures with narrow, beak-like noses--seemed in the darkness ready -to spring. And that great black nodding palm-tree, surely that was an -afreet too, and might catch him. But up the path bordered with horror -he still ran. - -Now he must turn to the right, before the arch is reached; and but a -short way farther pass those four images of great old kings mutilated, -but not the less uncanny and fearful in this dim light. They seemed -to look down on the little figure still running; but he had passed in -safety, and there lay the lake, black and still like the pool of ink in -which men saw strange visions. - -Mahmoud said his prayer and praise and lay down to sleep by the -lake.... - - -IV - -The first time Mahmoud woke the moon had won the battle, and was -shining on the temple, turning all to unreal, ethereal building, -faintly roseate, a temple seen in a dream. Mahmoud looked towards the -lake and all was still; the moon made a white sheet of water. - -The second time Mahmoud woke the moon was down, but from the lake came -a light--soft, lambent, golden. He looked towards it, and oh the glory, -the wonder! a golden boat was riding on the water. - -Mahmoud had often seen under the hot sun, in some ripple of desert -sand, a sudden sheet of water. In the middle it was clear water, -bright, reflecting the edge of cultivated land. At the margin it was -uncertain; no eye could tell where it melted into the shaking haze of -heat. So here, the middle of the boat was clear and distinct, and on -the deck was standing one single figure; but at the stern and prow, -though he saw figures he saw them dimly, the outlines of them melted -into the gold reflection of the water. - -The central figure on the deck he marked from head to foot. He says -he has seen the face outlined on some temple wall, but he can never -find it. He says, too, it was not unlike the father of Gorgius the -Copt donkey-boy. But the father of Gorgius, he added, was only a -fellah-man; this was a great man, greater than the Khedive of Egypt, as -great as a King of England. - -But of one thing he is certain: not only had the figure a strange -erection on his head, but he wore a lion’s tail behind. Mahmoud’s eyes -were so riveted to the figure that he could not tell how the boat -moved. He said something about a sail and something about oars; but -this he knew, that though it moved on with its golden reflection over -the lake, it stirred no water in front and no widening ripple ran out -behind. - -It was drawing to the shore, and suddenly, as if it had come within -focus, the prow was clear to him, with a man leaping down to the land, -a coil of golden rope upon his arm. - -What passed next was but the work of an instant. Without rising to his -feet Mahmoud shot down like a snake among the stones, and as the man -coiled the rope round a rock he seized it. - -As the lightning flash strikes across the sky, so the man with this -golden light upon him leaped back; and into the waters of the lake, -into the golden reflection, sank the boat, without sound or ripple. - -Mahmoud was standing alone by the black pool in the light of the stars -under the lonely night. But by the light of the stars he saw in his -scarred and bleeding hand the strands of the golden rope. - - * * * * * - -Now Mahmoud trails the Mecca robe through the streets of Luxor, but -they say that Fatma wears the golden rope. - - - - -THE UNSEEN WORLD - - - - -VIII - -THE UNSEEN WORLD - - -The whole world had faded and darkened to a uniform tint, black and -dingy. The woman who stood there could hardly say whether this tint -were brown or grey, for there was no colour to contrast it with, -nothing but her own black dress seen through the same sordid medium. -In front of her, rather lighter in tint, she could see a few inches of -parapet, on which her hands were lying, and dimly could discern the -ground at her feet. If she leant over the parapet she could not see the -water, but where she believed it to be, something like the shadow of a -ripple moved across the dusk. - -And as for want of contrast she could determine no colour, so for want -of distance she could determine no size. All she saw could be enclosed -by four small walls; all she could not see might reveal miles of -river-bank, streets of stately houses. It was not the Infinite but the -Indetermined that she looked upon. Noises had sunk into a hoarse murmur -and swell, dulled as by this thick, heavy medium. No such monotony of -existence could be conceived; a world of shadows, an Isle of Voices, -would be life itself to this. And yet she believed herself to be -standing in the heart of the greatest city in the world, but a few -paces removed from streets where men and women were moving up and down; -where her face was turned across the water stood (she believed) a great -house, a town garden where wood-pigeons built, and where she had seen -lilies of the valley flower, saying softly to herself:-- - - “Here in dust and dirt, oh here, - The lilies of His love appear.” - -How was it possible that in so short a time such a change should fall, -such a swallowing up of life as the centuries cannot bring to the -cities of the south? Truly she was living by faith in a blank world of -existence. A foot or two of parapet each side of her hands; a foot or -two of gravel each side of her feet--beyond that limit nothingness. Yet -by faith she would move in this void. - -She turned to the left and walked along the path which appeared step -by step as she paced, until in front of her the shadow of a building -fell upon the fog: cornerwise it rose, fading into mist, and likewise -vanished a few feet above her head. - -Yet she believed that this was a great tower; she believed that the -building stretched away from her, and that at that moment, gathered -inside its halls, was the Council of the Nation. It is strange if you -think of it, how firmly she believed in that invisible building, in -those inaudible deliberations, in the reality of its connection with -the isolated fragments of parapet and path--fragments without visible -support, the only things she could see and the least of all she -believed in. - -For as she believed in a present invisible, so she believed in a future -uncreated; that she should presently return from where she stood to -her own house, the fragment of visible world opening before her and -above her, closing behind her as she went. If she could not find the -way, other figures dawning on her, fog-enwrapped, would direct her. -Strange--how she believed in their existence, though she could neither -see nor hear them, how she trusted in their good faith, though she -knew neither who they were nor whence they would come, in their greater -knowledge, though all men were more or less astray in the same fog. - -So resting peaceably in this belief she looked again over the parapet. - -A shadow on blank colourlessness in front; a splash as of water to the -ear. The shadow deepened, defined itself, and out of nothingness grew a -great black barge; it seemed to float on water that she could not see. -Two men, one with body bent forward, one with body swayed back, swung -a great oar at the stern. They were steering in this indistinguishable -world; in this chaos of a world, threading their way between dangers -undiscerned till ruin was impending. Now the black outline was -opposite to her and now the barge was shortened, and still the two -figures swayed and bent, swayed and bent, at their steering. The dark -vision faded into darkness again. Out of nothing grew that barge, into -nothing it went. - -The third thing she saw was this: just below the parapet where the fog -was least thick, out of nothingness came a bird, like a little white -spirit. It was smaller than a seagull; its wings, delicately shaded -with brown, showed a sharper outline, and round them ran a dark line; -the head too was dark. - -A moment it hung below her lightly poised, white wings uplifted, head -down-bent, feet down-dropped towards the flood below. Then this too -vanished in the mist. - -And having seen that she went away content. - - - - -FROM THE BANK OF THE RIVER - - - - -IX - -FROM THE BANK OF THE RIVER - - -I - -In a room in an hotel of the south some one was lying ill. It was -March, and an airless, parching heat lay outside, the palms drooped -yellow leaves, the bee-eaters chattering on a carob-bush dived -luxuriantly into corn so green that they were in no wise distinguished -from it; they turned and fluttered like butterflies, and from the -bronze wing feathers a sheen of gold rippled over their emerald in the -sun. - -Inside the room was as cool as it might be; when, from time to time, -the shutters were opened the glory of gold and green outside flashed -into sight. Outside life was heavy with heat, luxuriant, substantial; -bounded, limited and weighed down by its very fullness. - -Inside life had dwindled to a thin thread of consciousness, or rather -it seemed like two strands worn nearly to breaking lying side by side. -The one, the actual physical consciousness of a corporal life ebbing, -of breath drawn with difficulty; of physical sensation not perhaps -actually painful, but almost altogether wearying--a consciousness -close to that mysterious land of delusions, where the physical symptoms -are set apart from the personal consciousness and become external -antagonistic forces. It was not intolerable because it was becoming a -thing more and more external, more separate from that other spiritual -consciousness with which it was still lightly entwined. - -And that other thread of being, how shall one describe it? It was not -quite continuous, for now and again the physical sensation numbed it; -now and then, when times of refreshment came, the other like a stream -rose and engulfed it. - -Compare that old image of the Rhone and the Saone. The one flows on, -blue, clear, transparent; the other side by side, turbulent, muddy and -swift. The man lying here seemed to himself to be both, but most of all -the clearer thinner stream. The turbulence, the force of the other is -daily less and less himself, more and more an alien power to which he -yet jealously clings in the body of this death, and will not, cannot -part from it. - -And from time to time comes a new impulse of the stronger torrent--its -yellowing waters tinge the blue--it is fuller, and there is a sense of -well-being; and yet that transparent river of spiritual being, clear as -crystal, has been sullied, it has disappeared. - -Such little trivial things too will give him back the life which is -his power and his bondage;--the cup of iced coffee, that he looks for -and can drink when other food nauseates, this makes him feel that he -lives again and yet kills that clearer, sweeter, finer, life;--as much, -in a sense, as overpowering bodily discomfort kills it--more, perhaps, -for the more it overpowers the more external it is, the less it is -himself. - -If only he can keep from fear, for that kills all. And yet this thread -of consciousness, which I have called spiritual, is not thinking any -thought, it is seeing visions, and these visions are not of another -world but of the sweeter, purer things of this world, transfigured -and serene. He is a child again in a Cornish lane, and the grass is -deep and dewy, the banks are high, crowned with little bushes nearly -bare of leaf, for it is spring; deep in the grass are primroses, long -stalked and growing by the handful, you can thrust your hand into the -damp grass, rich in little ferns and unnamed leaves, and pluck them so; -between the primroses there are violets--are they purple or grey or -blue?--and here and there a celandine, golden yellow. Or he is a boy -sitting on a rock; his feet are bare, the sea is shallow round him, the -ripples run out, and the sun shining through them laces the fine sand -below with gold. He tells the nurses that as soon as he is well he will -go to the sea and dip his feet in it. - -Then he thinks of music that he knows, and it comes with unutterable -sweetness of cadence like music heard in dreams. - -And this radiance lies not only on things imagined but on things seen. -The roses brought into the room are the roses of Dorothea; the scent -of the palm, in blossom outside, fills the room with an ethereal -fragrance; and oh, those clusters of waxen palm flowers that his -friends bring in and place in the green jug, surely it must come from -that tree whose very leaves are for the healing of the nations! - -It is only at night that the horror comes--no nameless horror, but the -horror of fighting with the darkness; it is hot, and it stifles. The -doctors have been, and he knows their report is not good though no one -has told him so. The medicine bottles begin to change; there is one -like a knight’s head near the candle, he knows it is only a cork in it, -but it is very like the armoured head of a knight; and the darkness -comes near, it oppresses all, laying a heavy hand on the world: it is -too near, too heavy, all round us and weighing on us above. - -He sleeps, to shout at the people in the room--he asks the nurse to -expel the Arab who is beside the bed. He knows they are not there at -all, but he does not want to sleep, for he will wake in that horrible -strangle of breath. It is so long, if only there were any light at -all! Weary, interminable length, and some lines of a poem run in his -mind: - - “An hour or two more and God is so kind - The day will be blue in the window blind.” - - * * * * * - - “Thank the kind God the carts come in.” - -They come in so early in London.--Only an hour or two is quiet in the -night, and you would know that the world is alive again, one would not -have to keep the darkness long at bay; but here the night is day-long. -Brandy--what is the good? The smell is nauseating; but it is at his -lips, and he drinks. Has he slept? but it is black and still and dark, -the dogs howl and scuffle past the window. Hours more to come, hours -of the blackness. One of these people who is about the room sits down -by the bed. She is not terrifying. She is only an old lady with grey -hair, but she expects something. She must be told to go away; they will -not tell her, and he is angry with urging. But of course she was not -really there, it was only a dream; so he must have slept again, and the -minutes must have passed. - -There is a hint of grey in the sky, the whisper of a breeze in the palm -leaves--dawn is coming. Now there is one hour of horror to go through, -for the windows must be shut; he cannot breathe--he cannot live like -this for an hour. The door into the passage may be opened, and the -nurse’s step falls cold and echoing on the stone outside; no one else -is moving, it is all grey and cold; he knows how that empty passage -must look. This is better, for the blackness is going. - -He sees the palm-trees outside above the muslin blinds; all the world -is still and dead, its light gone out, but it can be rekindled. From -the other window nothing can be seen but colourless sky, but the sky -itself begins to kindle into life. - -Suddenly something falls across the muslin blind; a bar, and a dot of -sunlight, of that molten gold of Egyptian sunshine before the day has -dried it into dust of gold. Oh the extraordinary beauty of that gold! -Has sunshine been always in the world before, and yet we never knew it -was like that? The darkness has passed, the light shines, the rapture -and the beauty of the light spreads and broadens; the sky is awake, -the garden is alive, the night is gone--and now the window towards -the south is thrown open, and very faint and fair, a delicate violet -light lies on the hills beyond the river. The air is blown in sweet, -fragrant, unspeakably pure; and that carob-tree on which the birds sat -yesterday is green and fresh, and below is the blue-green of the corn -into which they dropped. - -An Arab is riding on his camel along the dyke, they are outlined -against that purple hill. So people still live and move outside; they -can move then, they can go where they wish. But he sees the sun, and -the breath of heaven comes in, and the night is passed. He is tired -with this warring against the night, but the light has come and the -clearer, brighter river is flowing again. This is day. - -What is this land where the spirit has been living? Is it the land of -Beulah or the Valley of the Shadow? Which is most real? He knows which -is most substantial, but why is it most real? The instrument is more -substantial than the melody and infinitely less real. Yet when the veil -grows thin which hides the glory of the vision, agonizing we entreat -that it may not be removed and show the glory of the face. - - -II - - “The luminous - Star-inwrought, beautiful - Folds of the Veil.” - -Many have written of the journey down to the dark river; few have told -of the road backward from the river’s brink; a road of sudden ecstasies -and sordid pitfalls. - -For the radiance lay over the earth when he turned his face to it -again. Nothing was ever sweeter than the sight of palm leaves against -the blue upon the banks of the Nile. As the shores streamed past, -with the rosy hills and yellow lights above them, winged feluccas -furling sail, or sweeping like birds across the blue, with the roaring -of the swiftness of their motion, he could lie and look--weary with -rapture--watching the figures sprung from the old Palestinian story--a -rugged Peter wrapping his fisher’s cloak about him, or urging his -fellows “I go a-fishing.” But slowly, imperceptibly, the walls of the -world closed in again; the sun beat pitilessly down; the heavens were -brass, the earth iron. Now and again they would open out at the sight -of the sapphire sparkle of the Mediterranean, or the deep, green growth -under blossoming orchards of France. The wind became the life-giving -breath of the spirit, and the soul would “beat” against “mortal bars,” -seeing infinite power, infinite possibility, lying but just beyond the -frail partition; a touch, and he might glide from the mountain side -down over the trees that slept in the noonday of the valley; a hand on -the eyes, and they would see to the truth that lies beneath form and -colour of earthly things; a finger on the ear, and he would hear the -very meaning of the wind and of the trickle of the stream--the gift of -tongues would be an imaginably natural incident. - -Yet next day, at some trifling ailment, death and its terrors compass -him about, and the man shakes as with ague under the fear of it and -shame of cowardice. Or he wakes every morning seemingly refreshed, -only to fall by midday into a gulf of blackness and mistrust, sordid, -not tragic, not dignified; and he sits tongue-tied, seeing a sneer -in every smile, marvelling that men do not see the loathsomeness and -terror that lie around them, but walk unconcerned among the dangers -that encompass. Then again life returns in full flood, and the fears -and the terrors are as the fabric of a dream. - -A long, strange way, full of inexplicable joys and sorrows, hopes and -fears--a far longer path to travel in the spirit than that by which he -came “out of the iron furnace, even out of Egypt,” to the cool airs and -sweet quiet of an old English country house in wooded downs touched -by the freshness of the sea. There in the south, after the first -bound towards health, life had stood still; the parched, sapless land -could yield dry, clear air, sharp bright sunlight, but no refreshment -of health and of spirit, nothing that could be compared to the misty -mornings, and soft dewy evenings of a mild English spring. There the -spring brings no refreshment; March reaps her harvest and the palm -leaves hang dry and yellowish: here all life was stirring after the -winter sleep, and earth was striving in her own finite way to make all -things new. It was long since he had seen an English spring, and the -eye could not be satisfied with gazing. - -He first noticed it when, looking on the wintry copses, he saw that a -thin ripple of life had run over the ground; among brown stalks and -withered leaves so slight a flush of green that you could hardly say, -“It is here” or “It is there,” nor surely know the change was worked to -the outer eye or noted by the reanimate perception. Then the fine veil -of skeleton branches against the sky, through, under, beyond which he -could see the blue downs of the coast, thickened, and they warmed in -colour; till the brown of the elm became purple, and the brown of the -beeches red, and the willow golden: then the elm burst into its little -purple rosettes but the others stayed. And now crept out those little -silvery creatures which the children call palms; like little downy -animals, so sweet, so comfortable that the child must half believe they -are alive. Early in April the clumps of crocus in the turf, purple and -yellow, were dying, but the daffodils were beginning to take their -place, strewing the rough grass with flowers of milky gold. A week -later the snake-heads were drawing themselves out of the turf, with -head curved downwards like a swan preening its breast; primroses were -waking in the lanes, the larch was hanging “rosy plumelets,” the silver -leaf buds of the apple were out, and the flower of the peach. - -This was cuckoo day, and punctual to the moment they hooted in the -wood below; they had come in good time for the later nests, for the -wagtails had taken their last year’s tenement again in the ivied wall, -and the untidy sparrows were littering lawn and garden. - -Again a week, and the cherry buds showed fawn coloured; two days they -stayed so, then a little tree burst into flower. Two days more, and -the orchard looked as if a snow shower had lightly fallen. At last one -windy day white blossoms came drifting down among the scarlet tulips, -and after this a rose-tinge passed over the trees, like a faint sunset -on the snow, and then the glory was gone. But the expanding spirit -could not bewail the glory gone, for warmer weather came with sun -like summer, so that the plum-tree on the wall burst into flower one -morning while one sat under it; a purple iris appeared, the blackthorn -whitened, and in the garden beds the peonies and lilies shot up, -anemones dozed half their radiant life away in royal groups, purple and -scarlet. The remembrance of trembling and helplessness fell from the -man, and he laughed to see the peacock’s grave and measured dance and -the fierce cock chaffinch wooing in his bright spring coat. - -So the spring returned, unfolding infinite new delights, sometimes -hurrying, sometimes delaying; the copses clothed themselves in foliage -as light as a birch grove, with all fine gradations of colour from -the grey palms grown old, to the golden oaks beginning, and all life -and all activity responded. Though storms and chill might check the -budding, the renewal of the spring moved in man and nature, as man and -nature shook off the memory of death and winter, warmed and revivified -in the waxing power of the sun. - -And the world found voice for its joy, and it was joy to lie awake -in the hour before dawn, while the last fine song of the nightingale -still lingered in the memory, and hear the untutored song echo from -bush to bush; when the thrush and the blackbird waked, and the starling -chattered, and the cock chimed in with the lusty bar of music of his -bugle call, and all in chorus welcomed the day, and ceased. - -And one morning, as the man leaned out of his window to drink the -sweet air of growing things, he saw suddenly, that the desire of -spring was satiate. The trees had burst their buds and made a glory of -golden leaves. Life no longer pulsed, stayed, hurried on, but flowed -in the full tide of summer. Summer would burst into glories of beauty -and odour on this side and on that, but the fresh impulse of spring -was over. And the man leaned out and revelled in it. The rough bank -had covered its scars with lush green grass; and leaves, stems, and -branches were hidden. He revelled in the odorous, sun-warmed air, in -the pleasant kindly earth with its beauties, in the sight and sound of -the happy living things, and he looked away towards the hills, but they -were hidden. Then all at once he saw the blindness of content, and he -cried out “Oh my soul, where are the heavenly horizons and the distant -misty hills?” - -For while he gazed, the veil had fallen; at first translucent, radiant; -threads fine as gossamer shining with light, so that they seemed but -to illuminate the distance. Then the veil was inwrought with flowers -and as each new beauty came, he said “This is God’s work, and I can -see Him in this; all this symbolizes the light of His countenance, and -I see Him in His world.” And of each human interest and activity he -said, “This is God’s work, for it is the work of His children.” So it -fell fold on fold, thickening imperceptibly, full of sweet odours as it -fell, and the voices of birds; and he did not know that the focus of -his view was contracting, and that he was beginning to look not through -the veil but at it. And he did not see that there was another hand at -work and other threads in the web, grosser, more earthly, and darker -yet; and that as it was woven, warp and woof, other hands threw the -shuttle. - -So it fell, closing out the heavenly vision, hiding too the clouds and -darkness round God’s seat; and he found himself gazing on the veil -which men call this world. Then with a great struggle he cried, “In -the time of our wealth, good Lord deliver us.” - - -III - -The year came round again, and this man had found no contentment for -mind or heart. He was such a one as had always believed in the unity -of God and nature, had held the visible universe to be the robe of -His glory and the material to be like clothing which partly hides and -partly reveals the form. - -He was a man whom God had chastened a little in the flesh, so that He -might know the Hand that touched him, yet had given him no loathsome -evil thing to be with him, so that he must hate even the body that -served him. God had given him amply of the good things of life and -sufficiently of its sorrows to make him know the first were good. He -had early looked into the empty tomb and seen that since even the body -can in time elude it, it would be beyond reason and belief to dream -that the soul can be prisoned by it. For the soul is not even prisoned -by the body, seeing that it can walk among the stars, thread the secret -places of the earth, or dive into the seas, while the eyes of the body -stare upon a book; or it can fight battles and go through many strange -adventures and visit distant lands while the eyes are closed and the -body is laid upon the bed. Therefore this man had long believed in his -soul, though he had not taught his life and his fancies that though the -material sometimes appears to be greater and stronger and older than -the spiritual, yet that this is merely as the flower seems to one who -looks not below the ground to be more vital than the root. So though he -believed this, the man could not understand what the truth of the world -might be. For he saw that although one may rejoice in its beauties -and delight even in wholly innocent things, believing truly that they -come from God, yet many men thus go astray. And when he listened to -the voices of the dearest of God’s servants he became all the more -perplexed. For one cried “All things are yours, things present as well -as things to come”; but another said “Love not the world.” Again he -heard one say “It is good to be here; let us build three tabernacles”; -and saw him that said it straightway led into the dust and turmoil of -the incredulous crowd. And the sweetest voice said now “Deny yourself,” -and now “Consider the lilies, consider the birds.” - -This man was a man who always loved the water. It made a great calm in -his mind to see the sea spread calm before his feet; the storm of the -sea filled him with life, and to die in the sea would, he thought, be -like a child sinking to sleep in its mother’s arms. Clear, translucent -water drew him with a great longing, and he dreamt often that he -should bathe, but as his feet touched the water it ebbed away. - -Now near his home there spread, embowered in trees, a great lake; on -one side ran a road neglected and seldom used, from this the lake -ran up curving out of sight. Half-way up towards the curve there -stood a great oak, and beneath this he often bathed. So being in this -perplexity he went out one summer morning, passed through the sleeping -village and by the church, and went down to the lake. - -And in the turn of the year again the woods were lightly foliaged, and -the branches shone golden between the leaves; the ground beneath the -oak was carpeted with hyacinths and primroses, here and there a late -anemone starred it. - -Here he undressed and plunged from a little height into a pool. His -hands parted the water, which rushed up him as he plunged; then he gave -himself up to the element and it lifted him to the surface. Again he -warred with it, yet moved by means of it, with steady stroke parting -it, and again he turned over and yielded himself up to it, and the -least movement was enough to keep him floating on the surface, and he -rejoiced in the coolness and the purity. So when he had finished he -returned and clothed himself, and moved on through the edge of the -wood, looking at the water, wondering at a transparency that was so -deep and the strength of the fleeting thing, till he came to where a -little wooden bridge spanned the overflow from the lake; and upon the -bridge a boy of about eight years old was sitting. - -He was not dressed like a village child; his cap lay beside him with a -little spray of reddening oak stuck into it, and he was staring at the -water. - -“Who are you, my son?” said the man as he passed. - -“I’m a king,” the child replied; “but I’m an outlaw just now, you see,” -he went on, laying his hand on his cap. “I can’t get into my kingdom.” - -“Where is your kingdom?” asked the man. - -“Come down here and you’ll see,” he said. - -The man sat down beside him on the plank. - -“I can’t see much,” he said, “the water is dazzling.” - -“Ah, those are the sun’s messengers,” said the boy; “the sun sends -messengers millions and millions of miles to the lake and they -telegraph back to him. But you must look in another place.” - -The man slipped into the humour of the child. - -“Now I see your kingdom,” he said; “it has greenish forests waving, -strange transparent creatures move silently about.” - -“No, that’s not my kingdom,” the child answered, “why, I can get in -there; but it is not like what you think. Those are slippery fishes and -the bottom is all slimy. You must fix your eyes tight and not let them -slip to see my kingdom.” - -“Now I see it,” said the other; “it has beautiful blue sky, trees -stretch twigs into it which glisten like gold--one spreads leaves like -jewelled glass with the sun shining through; one stretches budding -twigs made of ruby; it is far, far below the shine and the fishes; and -yet when I look it is quite close to us.” - -“Yes, that’s my kingdom!” cried the child. - -“But isn’t it just like that behind us?” said the man, to test him. - -The boy looked round. “No, that’s out-of-doors,” he said. “My kingdom -is much more happy and safe, and the sky is more shining and the leaves -glitter.” - -“But it’s the sun’s kingdom down there even where the shine is,” said -the man. - -“Yes, I know it’s his,” said the boy; “if he didn’t send messengers -down there it would be all inky black and dreadful; but they won’t let -his messengers get through, only a few of them, a little yellowish, -greenish light.” - -“Is out-of-doors his kingdom too?” then said the man. - -“Of course it’s his,” said the child; “if he wasn’t there it would be -dark, and the wind would sob and the trees shake their branches.” - -“And what about your kingdom?” - -“Oh, he makes that for me,” said the child, “to be all my own.” - -The man sat a moment looking at the water and was silent; a starling -chattered on the boughs above; far away came the cry of the cuckoo; at -the right hand of them there was a little rustle as a snake slipped -over dead leaves and through the new living shoots of spring, and -paused. - -The man turned to the child. - -“But is it real?” he said. - -“It’s just as real as the sun and the water and out-of-doors,” said the -boy steadily. - -“But you said some day you would get in,” answered the man, tempting -him. - -The boy turned and looked at him, and his eyes were like a great stream -with the sun shining through. “And that’s just as real as me,” he said. - -The man snapped the twig he held in his hand, the snake silently -slipped through the brake and was gone, and the man stood up, yet -paused a moment looking down at the shining world, then he got up. - -“Goodbye,” he said, “I must go and look for my kingdom. I had one once -but I lost it.” - -“Shall you be able to get in?” asked the boy. - -“Not just yet, perhaps,” he said, “but I can look at it till I find -the way in.” - -So he went back through the wood, remembering that it was written, -“Out of the mouth of babes thou hast perfected praise.” - - - - - The Gresham Press, - - UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, - WOKING AND LONDON. - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - - -[1] Some of the descriptions which follow include things seen on our -later visits. - -[2] In later years we found a garden open to the public, and even trees -in it. - -[3] More than one such outer chapel of a tomb we made to serve as a -place for Christian worship. - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - - - Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. - - Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - - Archaic or alternate spelling which may have been in use at the time - of publication has been retained. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Court of the King, by Margaret Benson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COURT OF THE KING *** - -***** This file should be named 61478-0.txt or 61478-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/4/7/61478/ - -Produced by David E. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: The Court of the King - And Other Studies - -Author: Margaret Benson - -Release Date: February 22, 2020 [EBook #61478] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COURT OF THE KING *** - - - - -Produced by David E. Brown and The Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h1>THE COURT OF THE KING</h1> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="bbox"> - -<p class="center"><i>BY THE SAME AUTHOR.</i></p> - -<div class="hangingindent"> -<p>THE SOUL OF A CAT.</p> -<p>THE VENTURE OF RATIONAL FAITH.</p> -<p>CAPITAL LABOUR AND TRADE AND THE OUTLOOK.</p> -<p>SUBJECT TO VANITY.</p> -<p>THE TEMPLE OF MUT IN ASHER. (With <span class="smcap">J. A. Gourlay</span>.) -</p></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<p class="ph1"> -THE COURT OF<br /> -THE KING</p> - -<p><span class="large">AND OTHER STUDIES</span></p> - -<p><span class="xlarge"><i>By</i> MARGARET BENSON</span></p> - - -<p><span class="large">T. FISHER UNWIN</span><br /> -LONDON: ADELPHI TERRACE<br /> -LEIPSIC: INSELSTRASSE 20 -</p></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p class="center"><i>First published, 1913</i><br /> -<br /> -(<i>All rights reserved</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">PREFACE</h2></div> - -<p class="center">“We wake with wrists and ankles jewelled -still.”</p> - - -<p><span class="smcap">There</span> are many ways of entering fairyland; -sometimes there is a door in the -ground, and he who goes through finds -himself in some great hall or carved -and painted chamber. Sometimes we -find the morning dew on a flower -and touch the eyes with it; or, like -John Dietrich, catch the cap which -the fairies are flinging and put it on our -own heads: and immediately the little -people spring into sight, we hear the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> -sweetness of their music and see the -glitter of their hidden treasure and -watch the merriness of their games.</p> - -<p>The difficulty of the first method is -to find the way, of the second to find -the will; and John Dietrich’s way is -the venture of confidence.</p> - -<p>Children are continually in fairyland; -grubbing in mother earth they -find the door; as they tumble on the -grass the morning dew touches their -eyes and makes them pure.</p> - -<p>But sometimes the light of fairyland -will shine suddenly about you; and -you know it is no common glow -though it seems but the light of day -to many. So a child sauntering and -playing at midday in the fields may -throw back its head and look into a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -deep blue summer sky, and be seized -on a sudden by a beauty which troubles -the spirit, a greatness which weighs -upon the soul and wearies it, till the -will fails. Or the light may shine -softer at evening through the nursery -window, when roofs of houses and -branches of elder purple and darken -against a sky all purest primrose, and -draw the young spirit with a half-comprehended -longing. Sometimes it -comes with raptures of sunlight in a -green garden; sometimes cold and -strange in moonlight when existence -holds its breath, and earth is lost in -shadow or refined to vapour in uncertain -light; sometimes with a fullness -of peace in pale emerald of evening -light jewelling the latticed windows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> -of an old house, till the enchantment -thickens and the spirit pants with the -presage of the moment, waiting for -a revelation which still delays.</p> - -<p>And sometimes it is filled with the -very spirit of the little people: curious, -amused, fantastic—as when you walk -on a sea-shore, and suddenly, as with -the touch of a charm, the pool at -your feet becomes a little inland sea: -you see the rocky shores sloping down, -the sandy bottom, the submarine promontories -through the blue: forests of -seaweed sway; a terrible creature with -claws crawls out through pale coralline; -a lump of red jelly stretches out -its arms and becomes now a living, -crimson flower, now a horrid polypus -ravaging, irresistible; a fairy being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -mailed in translucent armour floats on -with antenn fiercely waving; and you -are back in fairyland.</p> - -<p>Many times you may borrow the -Red Cap to watch the boy Stevenson -titanically carve mountains and seas -in a mere mess of porridge; or to hear -with Charles Kingsley when the grouse -prophesies doom on the moor or the -empty gnat boasts himself beside the -stream. But sweetest of all it is to win -for yourself the charm which opens -your eyes in wood or field, and to hear -with awakened ear the voices of created -things.</p> - -<p>These things should be at our command; -but the things which children -know we must re-learn; and there is no -truth more evident to the child nor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -more surely proved to the philosopher -than that all which we see or hear -depends for all its meaning on the soul -of the world that no man sees or hears. -Let this book be taken as a short and -simple lesson-book in hidden meanings. -Life gives us many lessons hard to -read, and problems painful to unriddle; -but here in kind and simple wise our -lesson was made plain and the page -was pleasant to read: for to the eyes -of everyday, in varying scenes, among -diverse races, and nations long since -dead “the dear old nurse” showed us -the things which follow. She brought -us through the Gates of Gold and -sent us to float on the serene water -below a pleasant pasture; she taught us -daily, dwelling on the other side; led us<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> -by moonlight to the Court of the King; -showed us through sordid circumstance -the silent romance on the golden hill, as -she had showed us romantic incidents, -even in the Desert City; then she surrendered -us to the guardianship of her -child Imagination who, through the -voices of others, brought back for us -the Oriental vision of the royal boat -in the mysterious midnight solemnity. -And from this our older guardian led -us back, and blotting out for us sight -and sound of a populous city by a -transparent veil, made us understand -how to trust the mightiness of the life -of which we were part.</p> - -<p>Then she bade us close the book -with the touch of pain and healing -sent to quicken into life, and again<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -Imagination sent us, among the scenes -of daily life to look for the beautiful -kingdom which endures: And we must -say it in what form we may, so that -we catch the meaning of the simple -word, so early and so often said, from -which our stubborn sense rebels, “the -prison is the world of sight.”</p> - -<p>Thus before memory should fade too -much I wrote down some of the things -I had under guidance witnessed and experienced, -and those which the child -Imagination had, as I say, taught in -divers ways.</p> - -<p>For too often we let memory lie like -a rabbit in a winter burrow; and -imagination buzzes on the surface of -things like a fly on a pane: we narrow -our vision to our purpose and our hearing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -to intelligible voices, till it needs -a shock of strangeness or of beauty to -bring us back to realities—to rouse -memory to throw open the door in the -hillside, to make imagination leave its -sheet of glass for the world of air and -light, to let the beauties and the music -of the infinite creation reach the dull -brain.</p> - -<p class="right">MARGARET BENSON.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2></div> - - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table"> - - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdr"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td>PREFACE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5"> 5</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="2" align="center">I</td></tr> - -<tr><td>THE GATES OF GOLD</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_17"> 17</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="2" align="center">II</td></tr> - -<tr><td>THE LAKE WITHIN THE WORLD</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_27"> 27</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="2" align="center">III</td></tr> - -<tr><td>A DESERT CITY</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_37"> 37</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="2" align="center">IV</td></tr> - -<tr><td>THE OTHER SIDE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_53"> 53</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="2" align="center">V</td></tr> - - -<tr><td>THE SILENT ROMANCE</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_73"> 73</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="2" align="center">VI<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></td></tr> - -<tr><td>THE COURT OF THE KING</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_85"> 85</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td colspan="2" align="center">VII</td></tr> - -<tr><td>THE GOLDEN DAHABEAH</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_101"> 101</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td colspan="2" align="center">VIII</td></tr> - -<tr><td>THE UNSEEN WORLD</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_125"> 125</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td colspan="2" align="center">IX</td></tr> - -<tr><td>FROM THE BANK OF THE RIVER</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_135"> 135</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> - -<p class="ph3">THE GATES OF GOLD</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">I<br /> - -THE GATES OF GOLD</h2></div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> favourite game with Noah’s Ark -was to make the nursery table an -Island of Delight. The Delight must -have centred in the looking-glasses, -which, with frames discreetly hidden -in moss, mirrored in their unruffled -surfaces forms of numerous ducks and -geese and other less decided species -of birds. Certainly the other furnishings -of the Island were not -particularly delightful, for it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -thickly populated with wild beasts -of horrid aspect and defective limbs, -and specimens of that strange pinkish -animal of which Noah is so fond, -and which may be classified with -equal probability as a Dingo or a -Wild Boar.</p> - -<p>My earliest ideas of an Oasis were -combined of this Island of Delight -and of the description of Elim. The -Oasis would be round as the nursery -table; it would be covered with -lush green grass like a water-meadow. -It would have about seventy palm-trees -standing at fairly regular intervals, -and between the palm-trees there -would be (instead of the looking-glasses) -bubbling springs of water crystal-clear.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>When at last I saw an Oasis it was -unlike my vision—my Vision of -Delight. There was no grass, but there -were more palm-trees; there were no -crystal fountains, but trickles of brown -water in sandy channels. It came up -to my ideal in one point only—there -was none of that indefiniteness of outline -which is so repulsive to the simple -mind. Even as you can stand on -the bridge above Mentone, and see -a milestone with France on one side -and a milestone with Italy on the -other, so here you could take your -stand and say “That on my right -hand is Desert, and that on my left -is Oasis.”</p> - -<p>We had been travelling all day over -the sandy, dusty plains of North<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -Africa; we had found little to eat -at the shed-like stations except blue -cheese and musty bread; and towards -evening we entered a rocky defile. At -the end of this defile they said were -the Gates of Gold. There was not -much to see and the train loitered on.</p> - -<p>Suddenly we saw at the end of the -valley two great escarpments of reddish -rock; at their foot leaned one palm-tree, -behind was a glimpse of blue -hills. The evening sunlight fell -golden on the Golden Gates as we -passed through and suddenly cried -out, for everywhere below us spread a -sea of waving palm-trees. This was -the Oasis.</p> - -<p>The Oasis lay on a plain so flat -that the horizon to the south curved<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -like the horizon of the sea; and like -little clouds resting on the ocean here -and there an oasis showed greyish -green in the distance. To the north -lay a range of hills, which guarded -the enchanted place from the world -of men. The flatness drew the soul -with a strange attraction, until one -longed to go out over it farther than -eye could reach, anywhere or nowhere. -The desert was in sandy ridges like -a badly ploughed field; isolated tufts -of a heath-like plant grew here and -there; often there lay on the ground, -as if spilled from a cart, yellow apples, -reddening invitingly. Evil fruits these -are, full of dust and bitterness, -and even the camel will not eat -them.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>But within the Oasis were golden -oranges, juicy, like no oranges you -eat here, for they ripen on the dark, -glossy trees; there were gardens of -purple fig and yellow citrons large -as the head of an Arab child; and -the dates were sweet and large, and -half transparent in their candied -clusters.</p> - -<p>But the enchanted time was when -the moon was high, its silver light -was faintly tinged with rose; then -one walked under the palm-trees, and -light and shadow lay like silver and ebony -across the path, interlacing and waving -if some faint breeze stirred them, and -the strange, sweet odours of the East -lay warm and thick, and the tinkle -of Arab sounds were in our ears, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -the slim brown figures moved across -the path; and we went back to dream -of silver lights and waving, ebon -shadows.</p> - -<p>And one morning we went away -from the Oasis, and passed through -the Gates of Gold, and back into the -world of men, to find we had been -but two days away.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> - - -<p class="ph3">THE LAKE WITHIN THE WORLD</p> - - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> - -<hr class="chap" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">II<br /> - -THE LAKE WITHIN THE WORLD</h2></div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">There</span> were other such enchanted -places in this land, and one could step -aside from the high-road of life into -a place of fantasy and sweet illusion. -The dawdling, leisured train set us -down one day at a wayside station. -No houses were in sight, but behind -a clump of trees a cloud of steam rose -into the air, as if all the world was -a-washing. The train dawdled away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -across the plain and we went towards -the trees to find ourselves in face of -a shining, misty waterfall. The white -stone was streaked with grey and pink; -the water boiled up in little cauldrons -and fell down in a cloud of steam; -at the bottom of the dazzling rocks -oleanders bent over the warm streams, -maiden-hair fringed the banks; hoary -olives with twisted trunks rose above -the oleanders.</p> - -<p>While we still waited there came up -from the side of the steaming river -a splendid figure—a woman all in -scarlet hung about with silvery chains. -“That,” said the guide, “is the washer-woman.” -We climbed up behind the -waterfall, where it sprang in its strange -excitement out of the earth, and found<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -a stone courtyard, built round with -little empty houses, one of these -prepared for us.</p> - -<p>While we paused at the door a -moment, I saw between the stones a -tiny plant—a plant to conjure with. -It is like clover, splashed with crimson. -A poet who wore the Red Cap has -said that this crimson is the blood of -Spring, and, to him, a drop of his own -heart’s blood.</p> - -<p>A French family were living here -in a clean, empty house with airy -guest-rooms; and while they regaled -us with wild-boar’s flesh they talked -of the topics of their day: how the -jackals howled about the courtyard in -winter; how the rugged way to the -Roman City was not yet open; how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -the locusts came down ten years ago, -swarm upon swarm, till you could hear -the sound of the eating of their hosts -by night; how they devoured fruit and -leaf and bark like the “army” in Joel, -and then melted like snow under the -sun.</p> - -<p>In this strange, quiet land we slept -well, and went out next day over the -pleasant undulating plain, watered by -warm streams with their bordering of -oleander and fern, and sheltered by -olive and carob.</p> - -<p>At last we came to a place where -a grassy bank swept round us in a half -circle. “Fourteen years ago,” said the -guide “the shepherds feeding their -flocks close by heard a great noise, and -running hither saw the earth had fallen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> -in,” and he pointed as he spoke to a -crack in the side of the bank, just such -a rent as a great tree makes when it -falls, tearing its roots out of the -ground. “Into that,” he said, “you -must go.”</p> - -<p>So we went towards it in faith, and -found when we got there a man could -easily pass in. As we descended into -the hot twilight inside the ground a -bat flew out. We went down-hill until -the guide stopped us, where there -seemed to lie at our feet a little blue -dust over the stones, for this was the -still blue water of a lake that stretched -away into deep and deeper darkness. -As we stood we heard out of the darkness -the splash of oars, a light shone -on the water, and round the sheer wall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -of rock on the right came a boat with -a lantern at its prow.</p> - -<p>Into this we stepped, and it moved -on into the deep shadows. Out of the -dark water rose great stalagmites like -columns, and stalactites dropped to meet -them like heavy pendants from some -vaulted roof. We moved round rocky -chambers where the lantern shone on -the walls, and through halls whose -boundaries were unrevealed; all sense -of direction and of time was lost till -a flash of lightning seemed to fall on -the water. It was only the reflected -light of a grey day, filtered through -the rent in the earth down which we -had come, but after that great darkness -it seemed dazzling.</p> - -<p>So we went up again to the light<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> -of day, and back through that pleasant -land. But when we came away, I -brought with me a leaf of the crimson-splashed -clover “to witness if I lie.”</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -<hr class="chap" /> - - - - -<p class="ph3">A DESERT CITY</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">III<br /> - -A DESERT CITY</h2></div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“He seems as one whose footsteps halt</div> -<div class="verse">Toiling in immeasurable sand</div> -<div class="verse">And o’er a weary sultry land</div> -<div class="verse">Sown in a wrinkle of the monstrous hill</div> -<div class="verse">The city sparkles like a grain of salt.”</div> -</div></div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the desert not twenty miles from -Cairo there has sprung up the mushroom -growth of a wonder-working -Health Resort. It possesses several -hotels, an “Establishment,” a golf -links, and everything which a really<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> -desirable Health Resort must possess.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> -But at the time when I first knew that -tract of sand on which it stands the -case was far otherwise. If one must -have summarized the attractions of the -place they would have run:—</p> - - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table"> - -<tr><td>Fifteen pyramids</td><td> Distant</td></tr> -<tr><td>One palm-tree</td><td> Distant</td></tr> -<tr><td>Several ill-smelling streams</td><td> Quite close</td></tr> -<tr><td>Flat sandy desert</td><td> Near and distant</td></tr> - - -<tr><td colspan="2" align="center">A perfectly bare range of low hills beginning half<br /> -a mile away and reaching to Arabia.</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>An English advertisement of foreign -appearance bore witness to these -charms and ended with a striking -appeal to leave for desert air “the -filthy, stinking city,” as it characterized -Grand Cairo.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>We responded to the appeal, and -went to stay in a hotel of large -corridors and wide balconies which -looked out upon the fifteen pyramids. -Opposite was a small, bare house called -Villa Mon Bijou. The town was -planted on a desert so flat that it -seemed a German toy town set upon a -table; only there were no trees with -curly green foliage to be seen, because -no one might plant a living thing unless -by order from Government.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> Neat little -pavements with new little gas lamps -traversed it rectangularly, and came -every way to an abrupt stop in heavy -desert sand. There was a tiny English -church, in which the few English<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -Christians staying in the place assembled. -Little flat-roofed villas like -coloured cardboard boxes stood back -from the pavement with strange ornaments -above the gate; here a stone -eagle with knees turned outwards, -there a stuffed fox. Backwards and -forwards we went under noontide sun -to the baths, and were told to rest -in the Khedive’s sitting-room, upholstered -with yellow satin.</p> - -<p>One would have thought that -nothing so brand-new could have been -found in sight of the pyramid of Unas -and the cemetery of Sakkara. Even -death seemed glaringly recent. One -day we drove in the desert and searched -the horizon for objects of interest. -“What is that?” we said, pointing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> -to a small building on the outskirts of -the town. “That,” replied Sad with -pride, “is the new slaughter-house.” -“And this enclosure?” “The English -cemetery.” “And that yonder?” -“The Italian mortuary.” “What is -that which looks like a village on the -hill?” “That is the Mahommedan -burying-place.” “And that beyond?” -“Another graveyard.” Then he drove -us through a valley of Hinnom, where -we marked, among other things, a -dead camel and a dead calf; and as we -passed between the windmill and the -ill-smelling stream we saw three coffins -lie, brand-new, unguarded and alone.</p> - -<p>But towards evening a certain magic -fell upon the place. We had gone one -day towards the single palm-tree in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> -desert. Miles and miles of sand and -air, unstirred by any slightest sound, -seemed to lie between us and that -solitary tree, and when we reached it -nothing could be seen but the slot of -beasts around it.</p> - -<p>Then as we turned the light began -to change. Behind the fifteen pyramids -the sky glowed scarlet till it -tinged the water of the Nile with -blood. Far up in the blue hung an -ethereal arc of crimson light; the -heaven deepened to indigo where it -met night; kindled into indescribable -sapphire where it touched the dying -day; the conflagration grew till at last -earth glowed its answer to the sky -with a purple flood rising and deluging -sand-hills and valley.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>As we neared the toy town with its -twinkling lights the glow had died -away, and there gloomed before us -dimly a knoll round which knelt the -camels of the Bedawn; the figures -which moved beside them with dark, -fine profile and the white cloths round -their heads seemed like Magi come to -greet the Royal Child.</p> - -<p>Again we went up the hills which, -like a low rampart, bordered the plain -to the east. At the foot they were -carved into quarries of a stone so white -that it seemed like wedges cut in a -great cream cheese. The hills were -barren, but for a few straggling plants -and grasses about; like a raised map or -the skeleton of the world. Yet as we -went on we still found always in front,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> -like the marks on the carriage drive, -a curving, trodden road, winding up -vanishing out of sight.</p> - -<p>While we stood looking at the loneliness -there came daintily stepping, -with embroidered shoes and black -silk mantles round them, a party of -women to meet us; in front a man -carried a child. I cannot but think -that they vanished into thin air when -they had passed us.</p> - -<p>Or again one might descend towards -the river, on the road between the -fields. There as the sky lights its fires -towards evening the men would leave -their work and stand with dripping -feet on their coarse outer garment by -the water’s edge to say the evening -prayer. Near the town stood a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> -sycamore, under which, on a raised -platform, some men prayed loud and -lustily five times a day. “God likit -them very much,” said the donkey-boy; -but with cynical estimation of the -importance of this fact he added, “If -I bray, where is my business?”</p> - -<p>A brougham on the road as we -returned: Europe is at one side. But -within sat a woman golden haired, -with her veil pushed back and a cigarette -between her teeth. That one -passing, demure and dignified, with an -attendant wrinkled and stately, is a -Princess walking for her health. Here -two in a victoria, with transparent veils -and Paris bonnets, show Turkish -emancipation; and the shut and blinded -brougham with a Sudanese on the box -gives sign of Arab propriety.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>And now as the town is reached we -begin to see the meaning of this modern -city; those high walls are not merely -meant to hide a garden of flowers, nor -does the lattice serve only to keep the -sunlight from fading Eastern fabrics. -But behind the pierced work of that -window peers some Scheherazade at -her story-weaving, wondering what -life means, “half sick of shadows.” -There is the Pasha’s house, and the -whisper goes that these are slaves.</p> - -<p>A strange, pathetic figure trod this -road daily, a man of aquiline face, -brown skin, and pointed beard, dressed -in a fine embroidered garment of -scarlet with white cloth falling on his -shoulders.</p> - -<p>Evening by evening he left the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> -town, and squatting by one of the -sulphur streams looked out with level -eyes towards the farthest horizon of the -south, his beads held idly in his hands. -That man, we learned, was the Pasha’s -gatekeeper and came from the Sudan.</p> - -<p>One day a crowd ran and digged -by the side of this stream. “What -are they doing?” we asked, and the -answer was that they were making a -garden. It will surely blossom like -the rose—but not on those flowers -will the gatekeeper gaze.</p> - -<p>In the evening when the moon has -risen, and a great star close to her tip -hangs the banner of the Moslems in -heaven, the magic is most potent. -Then the flat-roofed houses become -palaces of marble, and among the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -dark figures stealing through the -street you look for Mesrour on his -secret errands, that he may show you -the mysteries of life and death behind -veil and wall and lattice. Then one -may well believe that over at Sakkara -under the sand-hills the dead are -sitting in their carven chambers, to -play their games and cast their spells -and eat and drink.</p> - -<p>And yet in Europe they talk of freeing -Egypt, and speak of the “patriot” -dervish; and at Gordon’s death-place, -where the gatekeeper was born and -from which he was stolen, they entertain -the Pasha with the honours of a -burgess.</p> - -<p>Who wakes? who dreams? Surely -the Western eye sees clear, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> -looks on the place in the searching -noonday light; for it is the hand of -the Western that planted Villa Mon -Bijou and raised the gas lamps.</p> - -<p>Leave it then with its neat realities -and its fancied magic; draw away -over the sand towards the Great River -and the dwellings of the dead; and as -one might see across the great ocean -a line of reef built up by tiny busy -insects, so look back once to see over -“immeasurable sand,” “the city sparkle -like a grain of salt.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> -<p class="ph3">THE OTHER SIDE</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> - - - - -<h2 class="nobreak"> -IV<br /> - -THE OTHER SIDE</h2></div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Alice went through the -Looking-glass, she sprang down into a -world where a change had passed on -all familiar things; so that she must -walk away from the things she wanted -to arrive at, and time ran backwards -and stopped. When a merman -brought a girl through the translucent -mirror of the water to be his wife in -the great caves below the sea, she heard -but dimly the church bell and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> -sounds of the world above, and saw but -seldom its sights when she rose through -the bay. And when Tom slipped into -the stream he found himself in a great -empty world below the water; and it -was not for some time that he was able -even to see the crowds of merry water-babies -with which it was peopled.</p> - -<p>We had often looked into the looking-glass -from a little village on the -bank of a great river. Sometimes this -river was only a river of muddy water; -sometimes towards evening, when no -wind ruffled its surface, it was a mirror -of burnished metal, reflecting the fires -of the west; sometimes a river of -molten gold. Sometimes, when the sky -was bright above, it was a stretch of -sapphire, edged with gold and set in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> -emerald, for beyond the sandy shore of -the river lay a great sea of green -corn—few trees were there, but the -waving corn, and animals pasturing -in luxuriant vetch; and beyond this -again began the sandy desert, which -stretched away to the bases of the hills.</p> - -<p>So the River ran, dividing the -country, and the two sides of it have -been called since the beginning of -history <i>the two lands</i>. The River was -broad, and so deep that the reptiles of -the one side have never been able to -cross to the other, and the lizards of -the two lands are of quite different -kinds.</p> - -<p>But just at the edge of the desert -you begin to see traces of quite a different -kind of life, the giant images of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -people long dead, and their temples; -behind in the cliff you may see, even -from across the river, the doors of rock-hewn -chambers which are called the -Eternal Habitations. That side of the -river is called the City of the Dead.</p> - -<p>Now the people of the village opposite -used to speak of going over to the -“Other Side.” They crossed the river, -and rode through the fields of waving -corn, and the men and women who -moved among the fields, who tethered -the beasts to pasture, the little children -who drove oxen in the creaking <i>sakhieh</i> -seemed like figures of a picture to -them; and when they reached the City -of the Dead, the desert places of the -Eternal Habitations, the Silent Citizens -were unperceived by them, their voices<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -were unheard; or they seemed to see -but rude stone figures of an earlier age, -dead bodies, unskilful paintings on the -wall. Before they could recognize the -living men they had turned back and -recrossed the river, and never knew -that they had been so near the mysteries -of the “Other Side.”</p> - -<p>But when you came to live in the -country on the Other Side the aspect of -it was altogether different. At the -back, the country was walled in by -precipices of rock, a great golden wall -from which spurs ran down on to the -desert. If you climbed up the first -ridge to get a farther view you saw -ridge on ridge of the same barren hills, -with golden rocky defiles, reflecting back -and back again the eastern sunlight. At<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> -certain hours of the day a stream of -people, like small ants, poured up one -valley, over a hill and back again across -the river; otherwise there was never a -sign of human life, except that, from -peak to peak, at far distances, you might -see a little rock-built shelter, and the -solitary figure of a watchman who -guarded the chambers of the dead.</p> - -<p>Between the hills and the cultivated -lands are lower hills, half rock, half -sand, with sandy slopes. In the sand -there gaped holes about the paths as -you rode or walked, and looking down -you might peer into a chamber, -sculptured with images of men and -women sitting at feasts; or higher up -in the hill you would see a squared doorway -of stone facing sometimes a great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -courtyard, and entering, you might find -a pillared chamber, gold vessels and -jewelled boats painted on the wall; -here a picture of a man propelling his -bark through marshy groves populous -with birds, there one driving the -plough, and a woman sowing corn; -here a kingly child on his nurse’s knee; -there the antelope caught by the dogs -and dripping blood from the hunter’s -arrow. The longer one lived here the -more one began to see of these doors in -the hillside and holes in the ground, -until it seemed that the whole mountain -was honeycombed with the rock-hewn -chambers. Sometimes you might -cross a courtyard where the eastern -slope of a hill lay in cool shadow; -pass through one painted room after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -another, chapel and shrine, shrine and -chapel, and so come out on the other -side of the hill still golden in the light -of the setting sun.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p> - -<p>Down below these rocks, clustering -round the doorways of the lowest slopes, -are brown houses that a day’s rain can -bring to ruin, villages like a child’s -building in sand; open yards, sheds -thatched with straw, erections in mud -like gigantic mushrooms with upturned -brim; and for the more permanent -part of the habitation these childish -builders have borrowed the rocky -chambers.</p> - -<p>For the truth is that two races of -people inhabit this country. The one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> -race are like merry, selfish children, -though a mystery of simplicity hangs -about them like the mystery of the -hidden life of a child. In their villages -ring sounds of men and animals all -day and all night; voices are hoarse -with talking and singing; it seems -like a great orchestra of the inhabitants. -Up to the middle of the night donkeys -chant their canon, cocks blow their -clarion; all day you hear the groaning -of camels, the agitated voices of kids and -lambs, the lamentable cries of their -mothers; towards evening the lowing -of kine as they return from the <i>sakhieh</i>, -the fury of the dogs, the provocative -cry of the jackal, and sometimes as -night falls the long, weird howling of -the wolf. Then when the moon is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> -full the children sing in chorus, apeing -the elder boys at their work; the -workers of the day are the feasters of -the night, and drum and song help -on the fantasia. Here is merriment -and noise, complaint, vociferous demand, -swift anger, cheerfulness again; -the ragged children and young animals -race and play from simple excess of -vitality.</p> - -<p>Yet all this noise is like the chattering -of a brook in a quiet place, though -it beats loud upon the ear it is as -powerless against the great quiet of -the desert as lapping waves against a -rocky shore.</p> - -<p>For the other race that lives here -is silent, yet their words have gone -out into the ends of the world. You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> -leave the villages and mount the hill, -and the noise comes fainter from below. -You pass through the chambers and -see these greater people live their lives -and learn from the writing on the wall -what “he saith.” You go towards -evening up some valley of golden rocks, -where the sunlight reflected from the -sand shines on the shadowed cliff like -the shining of a hidden lake, and find -in a fold of the hill a little empty -temple of old time; or descending -rocky steps pass into a chamber where -the walls present great deeds of state, -ambassadors clad in fine embroidered -dresses bring foreign tribute of nations -long perished, precious things of gold -and gem, strange beasts from far -countries. Or when clouds are chasing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -through a moonlit sky you pass up -a road between sand-hills towards a -temple of these silent races; its white -pillars and colonnades now flash out -silver in a sudden gleam of light; and -now the shadow of a cloud passing -with purple bloom over the hill above -annihilates courts and terraces, until it -seems a magician’s wand is at work, -destroying and re-creating this ghostly -building.</p> - -<p>Or at evening you ride through the -place of tombs; the sun has sunk, -and a glow, orange and red, gives a -sharp outline to the hills. Out of -the holes in the ground come an army -of little shadows, sweeping faster than -the eye can follow them over the -unlevel ground; and from the rocks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> -on the left peers out a sharp nose and -ears, and the jackal runs with heavy -drooping tail across the path, and -dodges behind a big stone to peer out -with insatiable curiosity as you pass; -or in the night one hears the cry of -a wild cat caught and torn by the dogs.</p> - -<p>There are no merry flocks of birds -here as in the cultivated land below, and -but little sound of their voices. The -sparrow indeed, who holds nothing -sacred, chatters his minute affairs in -the great silence; the discreet wagtail -runs about the ledges of the rocks, -the black and white chat bows on a -stone. But the most part are seen on -the wing; the soft grey martin, with -its atmosphere of domestic peace, -hovers about the Eternal Habitations,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> -thinking to rear its young in the -chambers of the dead; the swallows -made wild by their long flight, and -loosed from the restraints of the North, -build their nests on the cliff, and sweep -at sunset, with musical screams, up and -down the face of the rock; great kites -circle above in the hot noonday, let fall -sometimes their weird whistling cry, -circling on and on till the vast blue -engulfs them; and once, high in the -sky towards evening, there came a flight -of cranes, who wheeled, split, and recrossed, -then gathered decision and -moved stately in black and white -northwards.</p> - -<p>All luxuriance of life had vanished. -Even as time seemed to have stood -still, and the people learnt their arts<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> -and crafts from those who died six -thousand years ago, so growth seemed -to have vanished from the visible -world. Now and then as you wandered -up a valley a single blade of barley -shone like a gem half hidden by a -stone; or some plant, desert-coloured, -spread, dry greyish tufts, where the -ground retained invisible moisture. -But life hung suspended, and the -longer you dwelt in the country the -more you perceived that you were -living in the City of the Dead. -Sometimes one forgot how days and -weeks were passing, and again a -thousand years were but as yesterday, -a watch in the night. The noises of -the outside world came but faintly: -once, we heard the sound of a nation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> -weeping and the nations of the earth -sorrowing with it, and again the sober -welcome to one who came to take upon -him the burden of the State.</p> - -<p>So they sorrowed four thousand years -ago—not without hope. “A hawk -has soared—the follower of the god -met his maker.” So the officers of -State welcomed the son who should -take its cares upon him. And on -that very night when with grief and -praise the nation laid to rest a Queen -and mother in the fullness of her age, -our eyes looked on, resting untouched, -deep in the recesses of the rock, among -the mystic symbols of his faith, the -body of a king swathed still and garlanded -who died three thousand years -before that Queen was born.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>The sounds of war came dimly, -for the pictures of far earlier wars -might meet the eyes day by day; -and when we came on the bodies of -those men who warred and taught -and lived and enjoyed, alert in the -chase, quiescent in the cool breath of -their gardens, they lay quiet with -their ornaments perhaps upon them, -a garland round their neck, a book -between their feet.</p> - -<p>But when at last returning we came -down to the fields, we saw that time -indeed had passed. The corn which -was but sprouting when we came, was -full in the ear, and the barley was -yellowing to harvest; the bean-flower -had opened, spread its fragrance and -passed; the purple vetch still lingered;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> -the poppy raised an imperial head. -Clouds of gay, thieving sparrows rose -as we passed; the crested lark ran before -us, sprang and hovered with a few notes -of liquid song; tiny birds hung on the -barley blades; the whistle of the quail -came from the deep green where it hid. -The river spread before us like a highway -paved with sapphire; so we passed -along it to the north and the voices -of the world we belonged to rung out -clearer as we moved; and behind us -there faded like a dream that world -whose present is four thousand years of -time with the insistence of its silent -voices, the permanence of the dead, the -fleeting brightness of the living.</p> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> - - - - - - -<p class="ph3">THE SILENT ROMANCE</p> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> - - -<h2 class="nobreak">V<br /> - -THE SILENT ROMANCE</h2></div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> cock has been defying Achmet -Bukdadi again to-day.</p> - -<p>It is a very little cock, hardly larger -than a bantam; its plumage betokens -a fine disregard of race; if you were -pressed you might suggest a remote -relationship to a game-cock. The -cries of Achmet Bukdadi drew me to -the window to see the cock, feathers -raised, parading angrily and scornfully -in front of him. Achmet’s cries<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> -attracted two or three other children, -and they ran about on our terrace -trying to hustle the cock off the edge -of it. Finally one courageous boy -lifted him by the wings, and put him -on the back of another, whence he -descended with feathers and dignity -ruffled to the ground, while the -children dispersed shrieking and -laughing.</p> - -<p>Achmet had a more prompt ally -two days ago, when the cock was -doing sentry-go before their front yard -gate and would not let Achmet go -home. His cries called his mother -to his aid, and she came evidently -prepared for the crisis, for she straightway -threw the wand which was in -her hand with unerring aim, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> -cock fled vanquished down the village -rubbish-heap.</p> - -<p>Achmet’s mother is the most silent -and most graceful woman in the -village. She is the youngest of Bukdadi’s -two wives; the other must -be the mother of the sullen looking -boy who lounges after our water-donkey -up and down the hill, for -she is grey haired, while Achmet’s -mother has thick black plaits under -her blue head veil. She is not -indifferent to matters of dress, for her -outer wrapping is edged with crimson. -She seems far more active than the -other woman, and all her movements, -in the most menial occupation, show -an unconscious grace which tempts -one to the full use of unusual advantages<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -of observation. Her grace is -not the tender quality often so-called, -but a robust deftness and certainty of -action. She had to drive a lame -donkey to the water the other day, -and in the strokes of her staff there -was no more pity for the little beast, -halting and hurrying between two -diverse pains, than for her own -burdened womanhood. The donkey -must drink; she herself would bring -water for the household in the great -earthenware pot balanced on her head. -Hesitation for the animal was as much -out of the question as help for her -from the stepson who lounged past -her with his stick held behind his -shoulders.</p> - -<p>So she urged the animal to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> -pool beneath the tamarisks, and I -doubt not mounted the hill again with -all the speed that nature would allow.</p> - -<p>It is well, perhaps, that she is -taciturn in a yard so populous—the -other wife, the two sons, Bukdadi -himself, seldom seen, a girl, daughter -or slave, and the little Achmet, not -to speak of the animals—the white -camel in the corner nearest the gate, -the neat black water-donkey next -him, for the invalid one occupies -the innermost corner, the bullocks -who move with deference at her -bidding, besides Achmet’s enemy the -cock with his harm, and the pigeons. -I cannot be sure that the brown sheep -belong to this yard; they are always -being driven out, it is true, but whenever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> -they are not being driven out -they are going in; and it appeared -that the black goat with two kids -was preparing to spend the night in -the hollow stem of the mud fungus, -on the family platform. What makes -conclusions less certain, however, is -that the grey kid now dances up and -down hill with the boy in the yellow-striped -dress, and that the sheep have -more than once called on us in our -dining-room.</p> - -<p>Among all these Achmet’s mother -moves, sober, taciturn, efficient. One -wonders when the transition comes -from the laughing children to the -serious, burdened woman. Marriage -is not the turning-point, for little -Sada, with her round face and dark<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> -eyes and blue-patterned little chin, is -married, though she still prefers to -live with her father and be an occasional -visitor at her husband’s house. -And what there is of demureness in -Sada compared to the ragged Ahm -Ibrahim in wild neglected gaiety is -produced evidently not by her marriage -but by her blue dress and her red -dress, her necklace and her earrings.</p> - -<p>The burden of the household, but -above all the care of the children, must -work the change, and the trace of -tenderness that there is about Achmet’s -mother seems all for Achmet. She -exercises no repressive influence on -him, for Achmet, with his grubby -black dress, his thin, merry, ugly little -face with even rows of little white<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -teeth as he lisps his greeting—Achmet, -whether cantering about on a dhurra -stalk, or pretending to be a man -carrying stones with his grandfather, -or climbing over his neighbours’ walls, -is always gay.</p> - -<p>He takes the unexpected gift without -that deliberate anticipation of -favours to come which is the first -acquirement of the Arab baby; and -in his pleasures and his woes alike -Achmet flies to his mother, conveys -to her his bakshsh of sugar-cane; -wails to her when the cock is warlike -and threatening.</p> - -<p>She had him with her one evening -in the great mud chalice which -forms larder, barn, and summer -chamber of the Arab house.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>The sun had gone down, but a -certain unreal glow lay on the hill -behind the village; night was purpling -the sky; her figure rose out of the -shadowy cup powerful and graceful, -with the child crouched at her feet; -the work of the day was over, her -heart’s desire was with her.</p> - -<p>To-day she could not come to the -child when he called, for but two -nights ago there was a movement -and whispering at midnight in the -yard of Bukdadi, and the wail arose -of a voice smaller and younger than -that of little Achmet. So the mother -rests.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> - -<p class="ph3">THE COURT OF THE KING</p> - - - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> - - - - - - -<h2 class="nobreak">VI<br /> - -THE COURT OF THE KING</h2></div> - - - -<p class="center">“Sealed within the iron hills.”</p> - - -<h3><span class="smcap">The Approach</span></h3> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> moon had risen as we rode -down the steep, sandy road and -threaded our way through the little -mud enclosures, where dogs, alive for -the excitement of the night, were -prowling on the walls, listening with -ears pricked up for warnings of -enemies, looking with vigilant eyes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> -for some alien to draw near. As -we crossed into that part of the village -where they did not know us, a hoarse -storm of barking filled the air, but -in a minute or two we had passed -beyond this, and were out among the -sand-hills between the tombs, where -the whole plain was flooded with a -misty, uncertain light.</p> - -<p>Song and merry-making had begun -in the villages, for the full moon is -festival for those who have no artificial -light; but the thud of the drums, the -sound of children’s voices, and the -barking of dogs faded and died away, -and we came out into a great emptiness, -threading a narrow path between the -tumbled heaps; on each side the -tombs gaped dimly at our feet. On<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> -the right hand we looked far away -over desert and field to the great dark -pylons of a temple across the river: on -the left rose sharply the sandy spur -of the hill we were rounding. No -one was in sight and on no side could -we see any human habitation.</p> - -<p>We turned round the spur of the -hill into a boulder-strewn valley, arid -and silent. Even at midday there -is little sign of life here, except on -certain days when a stream of people -traverse it and return; otherwise you -find but a chance sown seed, dropped -in a favourable spot; a withering -leaf let fall by some traveller, a stray -pigeon, an “evil bird” the Arabs -think, who has left the abode of men -and foresworn its final service for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> -their use, to live its hermit life in -the wilderness. Otherwise you see -but the golden limestone rocks, -radiating back the golden Egyptian -sunshine. Then all is bare and keeps -no secret, for the very shadows are -broken by reflected light.</p> - -<p>But now the colour of the limestone -showed but faintly in the white -light, and the shadows fell dark from -boulder and rocks. The valley was -empty of life, penetrated with mystery.</p> - -<p>There, as we turned, at an angle of -the path was a figure, solitary in the -moonlight, a man in a long, dark -garment, holding by him his donkey -with a sheepskin over its saddle. He -stood waiting here to give us a -message, and having delivered it went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -back by the way we had come. And -now looking back we could see -nothing of mud village or vast old -temple, no living man of the present, -no stone memorial of the past; we -were alone in a world half lit, wholly -empty, stone and sand as far as eye -could see, with an empty sky above -where the moon had quenched all lesser -lights.</p> - -<p>The valley, which we began to see -more clearly, was narrow and rose -steeply on each side; the ground -beneath our feet looked like a river-bed, -on each side of which were large -boulders casting deep black shadows. -From time to time the rocks which -walled the valley so crossed one another -that it seemed the way was barred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> -in front of us, until, as we neared it, we -found the road swept round a corner of -rock. Turning such a corner, again -we found three people silently awaiting -us, two of them the companions who -had preceded us; the third a slim -figure all in white, on foot with -a staff in his hand. He was a man -of some authority over the guard, who, -as we learned later, had lain seven -years in jail for a murder. He ran -with noiseless steps in front of us, and -so heralded we went on to where -the valley broadened out a little, -branching to the right; and at the -entrance a great rock jutting out of -the cliff seemed in the moonlight to -take a fantastic likeness to some -colossal statue of a king, carved, you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> -would have said, by an Egyptian of -old.</p> - -<p>Our path led us to the left, and here -the cliffs began to close in on us, until -they rose like a wall on each side of a -narrow way, at once so steep and so -rugged that we could not tell whether -the defile was natural or the work of -man. It led at last to where a wall -of rock, barring the way, had been -rudely cut through. In this rough -gateway we halted—behind us the -rocky passage through which we had -come; before us, as far as we could -see, the hills ran down, like a great -amphitheatre, to a floor of tumbled -sand-heaps.</p> - -<p>Here, as we halted, one of our -companions blew a whistle, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> -next moment the hills re-echoed to -the sound of a gun. After a moment’s -pause he blew again, and now dark-draped -figures suddenly appeared -among the desolate rocks, running -noiselessly towards us. After a -moment all but two or three dispersed -again, and we rode forward with the -white, slim figure still in front and -two men in flowing dark garments -following us behind.</p> - -<p>The great emptiness, the silence, -the white, uncertain light by which -the rocks showed faintly tinged with -the rose and golden colour of the -limestone, the dark figures suddenly -appearing, noiselessly moving, dispersing -into the night; the strange, -desolate valley winding through all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> -apparent barriers into the heart of -the hills seemed like a dream. Surprise -vanished; even observation was -dulled.</p> - -<p>So we went forward to the head of -the valley, ringed about with sheer -mountain walls, and perceived that -here the mounds which lay about -the way gaped with open mouths, and -we could see the moonlight shining -through grated doors on the painted -walls of galleries that ran down deep -into the hill.</p> - -<p>These we passed, and dismounting -from our beasts, climbed a little -mound, turned behind a projecting -buttress of rock, and found ourselves -opposite to a door cut in the cliff. -One of the men who had followed us<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> -went in and left us for a while sitting -without in the moonlight.</p> - - -<h3><span class="smcap">The Presence</span></h3> - -<p>The great square doorway of the -tomb showed inky black on the face -of the cliff, golden in the moonlight; -the shaft plunged steeply downwards -into the rock, with short, high steps -roughly cut against one wall. Down -these we slowly made our way, the -utter darkness pricked here and there -by the flame of a candle in some one’s -hand. A flame shone for a moment on -the little shelf cut back into the rock, -where the string bed and wooden pillow -of the guard still wait his return, just -where he went out and left them so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> -many thousand years ago. The steps -stopped suddenly on the edge of a pit -deep and broad; by the light of a -candle held high we could dimly see -the red and blue patterns painted on -its plastered walls. A hole had been -broken through them on the opposite -side of the chasm, and crossing by a -little plank bridge we crept through, -still deeper into the heart of the cliff. -On the other side of the wall the -tunnel still went downwards, but the -faint light showed a deep alcove to -the right. On the rocky floor lay a -man, bound upon a crumbling wooden -boat; the painful bonds still held the -brown and shrivelled limbs, his knees -drawn up, his head pressed back.</p> - -<p>Again down the steep stairway we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -climbed, feeling along the rough-cut -wall, and again at the bottom a -chamber opened to the right. A -man, a woman, and a girl lie here, -side by side in the middle of the -floor. They have suffered the indignity -of stripping; wounds are in their -breasts; the thick black hair upon -their heads makes the small faces -and limbs seem the more withered -and unhuman. It is a pitiful sight.</p> - -<p>For the third time the rock-hewn -ladder led us down to the square-cut -doorway which opened to the -presence-chamber of a king of -Egypt. The great hall stretched back -into the darkness, dimly lighted by -hidden candles, heavy with the silence -of three thousand years. The faint<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> -gleam fell upon the painted walls and -pillars of the eternal dwelling-place, -the work of such far-off hands clear -and fresh with the freshness of -yesterday. On the great square pillars -Amenhetep still feels the fullness of -his earthly life and draws strength -from mysterious communing with the -life-giving god. On the walls a huge -papyrus seems unrolled where the -spirit of the King, in the depth of -the nether world, may learn to wrestle -with and overthrow the serpent-monsters -brought by each gloomy -Hour. At the back of the hall two -steps lead down to the high vaulted -space where stands the great rose-granite -sarcophagus. In the darkness -and the silence the lid or the inner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> -coffin was raised and we were in the -presence of the King.</p> - -<p>The dim-veiled figure lay before us, -wrapt in an inexpressible mystery, the -impress of his kingship still upon him, -crowned with the greater dignity of -death. Far from the loved Egyptian -sunshine, from the sweet breath of -the north wind, from the fleeting -ways of men, the inhabitant of the -rock holds his solemn court through -the centuries which have no power -upon him, with the records of his life -and warfare around him and the -mimosa wreaths upon his breast.</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>[Since the above was written plunderers penetrated -into the tomb in the absence of the guard, -and the body of Amenhetep II. no longer rests in -his Eternal Habitation.]</p></blockquote> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> - -<p class="ph3">THE GOLDEN DAHABEAH</p> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -<h2 class="nobreak">VII<br /> - -THE GOLDEN DAHABEAH</h2></div> - - -<h3>I</h3> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mahmoud</span> was crouched on the hot -sand, in the shade of a great granite -figure of an old Egyptian king. On -the temple wall at his right hand was -incised the figure of a large hawk, -which had a certain life-like stare and -stride. Below lay the thick green -lake; a little pied kingfisher fluttered -and poised over it. Mahmoud’s donkey -had strayed a little from his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -owner, and was pulling at some few -blades of thin, straggling weed. The -Father of the Box, who had ridden -him out to Karnak, had some foolish -prejudice against tying up donkeys’ -heads. Mahmoud explained that it -prevented the donkey from having a -headache; but Englishmen always want -things done in their own way.</p> - -<p>Yet as Mahmoud sat dreaming, his -eyes fixed on the water, he was thinking -of none of these things. Rather he -was dreaming of little Fatma, Fatma -whom he had run and played with as -a little girl—but now she was old -enough to be married. He had seen -Fatma as they came out; she was -carrying a waterpot on her head, and -the slender fingers were tipped with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> -henna; her hair was plaited over her -brow, and the large blue-studded rings -in her ears swayed as she ran. She -held her veil firmly in her small, white -teeth, and only gave him one look, -half shy, half merry, as she passed.</p> - -<p>Mahmoud’s father and mother said -he must be married this year. He -wished to marry no one but little -Fatma; but ah! the marriage-gift.</p> - -<p>He stared at the smooth, thick -water, and droned a little song—“Oh, -great holy gardener, let me into the -garden.”</p> - -<p>The sun was just going down, and -as Mahmoud turned idly, half lost in -his dreaming, the rays struck the wall -where was the image of the hawk,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -and the boy stood breathless, for the -hawk was all of gold, and as he -looked the fierce head turned a little.</p> - -<p>Through his maze came the voice of -the Father of the Box, crying to him -to get the donkey.</p> - -<p>A moment he started and turned, -but when he looked again there was -nothing but the stone hawk carved on -the wall; and again came the call, as -the Englishman and the “box” came -round the corner.</p> - -<p>Mahmoud gasped and panted: “The -chicken is all gold.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, the Golden Horus,” said the -Father of the Box, giving the precious -camera into Mahmoud’s hand. “Hurry -up and fetch the donkey, it is getting -dark and damp.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>But he did not ask how a donkey-boy -should know the Golden Horus.</p> - - -<h3>II</h3> - -<p>The donkey-boys were sitting outside -the garden gate of the hotel. Mahmoud -was against the wall, and taking -little part in the flow of conversation.</p> - -<p>“Achmet Effendi will make a big -feast to-morrow,” said one. “He has -killed two sheep for his feast.”</p> - -<p>“Achmet Effendi is a very rich -man,” said Maouad. “Twenty years -ago he sent his servant Gameel Gameel -to dig up stones to burn and lay on his -field, there where the English ‘<i>sidi -matre</i>’ (cemetery) is. But Gameel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> -Gameel found a big pot of golden coins -and he brought them all back to -Achmet Effendi. For ten years they -kept them hidden, then Achmet Effendi -sold them for much money and became -a rich man. That is why he loves -Gameel Gameel better than his son.”</p> - -<p>“Gameel Gameel was a great fool,” -said Hassan flippantly. “Why should -he not become a rich man himself?”</p> - -<p>Kuku was speaking aside to Gorgius.</p> - -<p>“I tell my lady that I am going to -be married to Fatma. I say to her: -‘I see Fatma in the market; I like her -very much and she likes me very much. -My mother has arranged it for me. If -you give me an English handkerchief,’ -I say to my lady, ‘you shall come to -my wedding.’”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>“Liar-boy!” said Gorgius scornfully; -but Mahmoud feared and sighed in -himself.</p> - -<p>A small figure passed, and the -light from the gas lamp showed a -withered old man with a white beard -and smiling face. He wore a red -tarbsh turbaned about with white, -and trailed a green Mecca robe.</p> - -<p>“Mohammed Mohassib will have a -big feast,” said one. “He has killed a -camel and made soup with it. The -Father of the Beard said to Mohammed, -‘You will feed three hundred men to-morrow.’ -Mohammed said, ‘I hope -more than that.’”</p> - -<p>“Mohammed Mohassib slept in the -temple of Mut,” said Maouad; “that -was fifty years ago, when he was a boy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> -When the sun rose Mohammed saw -the golden hawk. He ran to catch it, -but it flew away into the sky. One -feather fell from it, and Mohammed -Mohassib picked it up. Then he was -a lucky man and became rich, and went -to Mecca, and to-morrow he will feed -more than three hundred men.”</p> - -<p>Mahmoud’s ear was caught for the -second time. “If a man sees the -golden bird will he be a lucky man?” -he asked.</p> - -<p>“Oh, it is Mahmoud who will be -the lucky man,” said Hassan, with a -laugh. “To-morrow when Abu el -Haggag has done with his boat -we shall set it to float on the Lake of -Karnak, and Mahmoud shall see it -all golden at night and shall swim out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> -to it. But Mahmoud, he never speaks, -so when the sun strikes it the boat of -Abu el Haggag will be for Mahmoud.”</p> - -<p>A short silence followed this profane -speech, for Abu el Haggag is the -great Saint of Luxor, and next day -they held the procession of his sacred -boat.</p> - -<p>But Hassan rattled on. “I make -no feast to-morrow. Everybody else -makes a feast. Nasr says every time -he sees his lady he says, ‘I have -bought some sheep and some rice, and -my wife has mixed them together like -so; my wife has made balls of them, -and she will put them in the oven to -bake them. And I will bring you -some.’ Every time he says that. I -would not eat Nasr’s balls. I will go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> -to Rameses Bar and spend money and -drink whisky.”</p> - -<p>His audacity succeeded in making -itself heard, which was chiefly what he -wanted. And he went on: “Mahmoud -gets little money from the -Father of the Box. I say to the Father -of the Box when he rides my donkey, -‘Give me more money, this is too little.’ -He says, ‘Then I will beat you.’ But -I say to the Mother of the Nose, ‘I -am a very poor boy; I am only ten -years old. My father send away my -mother. Who shall give my mother -money?’ Then she says, ‘Oh, poor -boy! here is some money.’ I like these -ladies. They are very foolish.”</p> - -<p>“Did you say to the Mother of -the Nose ‘My mother is married again<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> -to a rich man,’ oh liar?” asked -Mahmoud.</p> - -<p>But at this moment the garden gate -opened and a babel of voices arose:—“Take -my donkey; take my donkey; -de best donkey in Luxor.” “Here is -Whisky and Soda; no donkey like so.” -“Never you believe nobody. Liar -boy. Here is Rameses. Every day -he win a race....”</p> - - -<h3>III</h3> - -<p>Abu el Haggag’s boat had come and -passed, poor starveling representative -of the longest pedigree in the world. -Here passed of old the Sacred Bark of -the gods, carrying the precious images<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> -and emblems, the king burning incense -before it, the oxen lotus-garlanded for -the sacrifice.</p> - -<p>And later this sacred bark lent its -outward form to the Ark of the Most -High God, bearing the simple symbols -of justice and mercy, in the long desert -wanderings and in the Holy Land.</p> - -<p>And now the poor, sordid boat on its -little truck passed round; charcoal -burned instead of incense. With the -feeble tradition the Arabs tell that it -was the boat in which Abu the Saint -went to see his friends. This is all -that is left in their minds of that most -ancient idea—this and the golden -vision of the boat at midnight on -Karnak Lake.</p> - -<p>The droning noises of Arab music<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> -had died down as Mahmoud ran through -Luxor; a few beggars cleared the -remnants of the feast of Mohammed -Mohassib; while the old man stood -smiling in his doorway over the -memory of his lordly hospitality. -He nodded kindly to Mahmoud -running by.</p> - -<p>After he passed the house Mahmoud -paused; he did not dare to go on this -way—highway though it was—for he -feared above all the afreet-haunted -bridge that he would have to pass. So -he turned, and running down a narrow -way crossed the empty market-place -and came out on the field road.</p> - -<p>The light was dying down and the -sky was cloudy; there was little mist, -but the scent of beanfields hung heavy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -on the air; the corn-blades rustled as -his dress swept them, running. The -barking of the village dogs died down -behind him into silence, so that he -started and nearly fell when a little -cue-owl mewed suddenly from a carob-tree.</p> - -<p>Down into the cutting, and as he -mounted again his heart leaped into -his mouth, for a dark figure rose up -above the corn. Then he remembered -that it was only the great lion-headed -statue that sat lonely in the fields, and -he took courage again.</p> - -<p>When he came to the road he -paused, debating. Which of the two -ways to the Lake? By the one he -would have to pass the spot where -that fierce golden bird had turned to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> -look at him yesterday. By the other -way he must go up the dark sphinx -avenue, a very haunt of afreets. To -go on either way was dreadful; to -stay here not less so; to go back, he -was persuaded now, would be to lose -Fatma.</p> - -<p>He turned to the left and entered -the sphinx avenue. A half-grown -moon struggling with the clouds now -and again threw straggling and sharp -shadows of the palm leaves across his -path, but more dreadful was the dry -rustling of the leaves on high when -a cloud passed; before him loomed the -great arch. On each side the sphinxes—crouched -like strange creatures -with narrow, beak-like noses—seemed -in the darkness ready to spring.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> -And that great black nodding palm-tree, -surely that was an afreet too, -and might catch him. But up the -path bordered with horror he still -ran.</p> - -<p>Now he must turn to the right, -before the arch is reached; and but -a short way farther pass those four -images of great old kings mutilated, -but not the less uncanny and fearful -in this dim light. They seemed to -look down on the little figure still -running; but he had passed in safety, -and there lay the lake, black and still -like the pool of ink in which men -saw strange visions.</p> - -<p>Mahmoud said his prayer and praise -and lay down to sleep by the -lake....</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> - - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<p>The first time Mahmoud woke the -moon had won the battle, and was -shining on the temple, turning all to -unreal, ethereal building, faintly roseate, -a temple seen in a dream. Mahmoud -looked towards the lake and all was -still; the moon made a white sheet -of water.</p> - -<p>The second time Mahmoud woke -the moon was down, but from the -lake came a light—soft, lambent, golden. -He looked towards it, and oh the glory, -the wonder! a golden boat was riding -on the water.</p> - -<p>Mahmoud had often seen under -the hot sun, in some ripple of desert<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -sand, a sudden sheet of water. In the -middle it was clear water, bright, -reflecting the edge of cultivated land. -At the margin it was uncertain; no -eye could tell where it melted into -the shaking haze of heat. So here, -the middle of the boat was clear and -distinct, and on the deck was standing -one single figure; but at the stern and -prow, though he saw figures he saw -them dimly, the outlines of them -melted into the gold reflection of the -water.</p> - -<p>The central figure on the deck he -marked from head to foot. He says -he has seen the face outlined on some -temple wall, but he can never find it. -He says, too, it was not unlike the -father of Gorgius the Copt donkey-boy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> -But the father of Gorgius, he added, -was only a fellah-man; this was a -great man, greater than the Khedive -of Egypt, as great as a King of -England.</p> - -<p>But of one thing he is certain: not -only had the figure a strange erection -on his head, but he wore a lion’s -tail behind. Mahmoud’s eyes were so -riveted to the figure that he could not -tell how the boat moved. He said -something about a sail and something -about oars; but this he knew, that -though it moved on with its golden -reflection over the lake, it stirred no -water in front and no widening ripple -ran out behind.</p> - -<p>It was drawing to the shore, and -suddenly, as if it had come within<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> -focus, the prow was clear to him, -with a man leaping down to the -land, a coil of golden rope upon his -arm.</p> - -<p>What passed next was but the -work of an instant. Without rising -to his feet Mahmoud shot down like -a snake among the stones, and as the -man coiled the rope round a rock -he seized it.</p> - -<p>As the lightning flash strikes across -the sky, so the man with this golden -light upon him leaped back; and into -the waters of the lake, into the golden -reflection, sank the boat, without sound -or ripple.</p> - -<p>Mahmoud was standing alone by -the black pool in the light of the -stars under the lonely night. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -by the light of the stars he saw in -his scarred and bleeding hand the -strands of the golden rope.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Now Mahmoud trails the Mecca -robe through the streets of Luxor, -but they say that Fatma wears the -golden rope.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p class="ph3">THE UNSEEN WORLD</p> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> - - -<h2 class="nobreak">VIII<br /> - -THE UNSEEN WORLD</h2></div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> whole world had faded and -darkened to a uniform tint, black and -dingy. The woman who stood there -could hardly say whether this tint -were brown or grey, for there was no -colour to contrast it with, nothing but -her own black dress seen through the -same sordid medium. In front of her, -rather lighter in tint, she could see a -few inches of parapet, on which her -hands were lying, and dimly could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> -discern the ground at her feet. If -she leant over the parapet she could -not see the water, but where she -believed it to be, something like the -shadow of a ripple moved across the -dusk.</p> - -<p>And as for want of contrast she could -determine no colour, so for want of -distance she could determine no size. -All she saw could be enclosed by four -small walls; all she could not see might -reveal miles of river-bank, streets of -stately houses. It was not the Infinite -but the Indetermined that she looked -upon. Noises had sunk into a hoarse -murmur and swell, dulled as by this -thick, heavy medium. No such monotony -of existence could be conceived; -a world of shadows, an Isle of Voices,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> -would be life itself to this. And yet -she believed herself to be standing in -the heart of the greatest city in the -world, but a few paces removed from -streets where men and women were -moving up and down; where her face -was turned across the water stood (she -believed) a great house, a town garden -where wood-pigeons built, and where -she had seen lilies of the valley flower, -saying softly to herself:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“Here in dust and dirt, oh here,</div> -<div class="verse">The lilies of His love appear.”</div> -</div></div> - -<p>How was it possible that in so short -a time such a change should fall, such -a swallowing up of life as the centuries -cannot bring to the cities of the south? -Truly she was living by faith in a blank<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> -world of existence. A foot or two of -parapet each side of her hands; a foot -or two of gravel each side of her feet—beyond -that limit nothingness. Yet -by faith she would move in this void.</p> - -<p>She turned to the left and walked -along the path which appeared step -by step as she paced, until in front of -her the shadow of a building fell upon -the fog: cornerwise it rose, fading into -mist, and likewise vanished a few feet -above her head.</p> - -<p>Yet she believed that this was a great -tower; she believed that the building -stretched away from her, and that at -that moment, gathered inside its halls, -was the Council of the Nation. It is -strange if you think of it, how firmly -she believed in that invisible building,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> -in those inaudible deliberations, in the -reality of its connection with the -isolated fragments of parapet and path—fragments -without visible support, -the only things she could see and the -least of all she believed in.</p> - -<p>For as she believed in a present -invisible, so she believed in a future -uncreated; that she should presently -return from where she stood to her -own house, the fragment of visible -world opening before her and above her, -closing behind her as she went. If -she could not find the way, other -figures dawning on her, fog-enwrapped, -would direct her. Strange—how she -believed in their existence, though she -could neither see nor hear them, how -she trusted in their good faith, though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> -she knew neither who they were nor -whence they would come, in their -greater knowledge, though all men -were more or less astray in the same -fog.</p> - -<p>So resting peaceably in this belief -she looked again over the parapet.</p> - -<p>A shadow on blank colourlessness in -front; a splash as of water to the ear. -The shadow deepened, defined itself, -and out of nothingness grew a great -black barge; it seemed to float on -water that she could not see. Two -men, one with body bent forward, one -with body swayed back, swung a great -oar at the stern. They were steering -in this indistinguishable world; in this -chaos of a world, threading their way -between dangers undiscerned till ruin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> -was impending. Now the black outline -was opposite to her and now the -barge was shortened, and still the two -figures swayed and bent, swayed and -bent, at their steering. The dark vision -faded into darkness again. Out of -nothing grew that barge, into nothing -it went.</p> - -<p>The third thing she saw was this: -just below the parapet where the fog -was least thick, out of nothingness came -a bird, like a little white spirit. It -was smaller than a seagull; its wings, -delicately shaded with brown, showed -a sharper outline, and round them -ran a dark line; the head too was -dark.</p> - -<p>A moment it hung below her lightly -poised, white wings uplifted, head<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> -down-bent, feet down-dropped towards -the flood below. Then this too -vanished in the mist.</p> - -<p>And having seen that she went -away content.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> - -<p class="ph3">FROM THE BANK OF THE RIVER</p> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">IX<br /> - -FROM THE BANK OF THE -RIVER</h2></div> - - -<h3>I</h3> - -<p><span class="smcap">In</span> a room in an hotel of the south -some one was lying ill. It was March, -and an airless, parching heat lay outside, -the palms drooped yellow leaves, the -bee-eaters chattering on a carob-bush -dived luxuriantly into corn so green -that they were in no wise distinguished -from it; they turned and fluttered like -butterflies, and from the bronze wing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> -feathers a sheen of gold rippled over -their emerald in the sun.</p> - -<p>Inside the room was as cool as it -might be; when, from time to time, -the shutters were opened the glory of -gold and green outside flashed into -sight. Outside life was heavy with -heat, luxuriant, substantial; bounded, -limited and weighed down by its very -fullness.</p> - -<p>Inside life had dwindled to a thin -thread of consciousness, or rather it -seemed like two strands worn nearly -to breaking lying side by side. The -one, the actual physical consciousness -of a corporal life ebbing, of breath -drawn with difficulty; of physical -sensation not perhaps actually painful, -but almost altogether wearying—a consciousness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> -close to that mysterious -land of delusions, where the physical -symptoms are set apart from the -personal consciousness and become external -antagonistic forces. It was not -intolerable because it was becoming a -thing more and more external, more -separate from that other spiritual consciousness -with which it was still -lightly entwined.</p> - -<p>And that other thread of being, how -shall one describe it? It was not quite -continuous, for now and again the -physical sensation numbed it; now and -then, when times of refreshment came, -the other like a stream rose and -engulfed it.</p> - -<p>Compare that old image of the -Rhone and the Saone. The one flows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> -on, blue, clear, transparent; the other -side by side, turbulent, muddy and -swift. The man lying here seemed -to himself to be both, but most of -all the clearer thinner stream. The -turbulence, the force of the other is -daily less and less himself, more and -more an alien power to which he -yet jealously clings in the body of -this death, and will not, cannot part -from it.</p> - -<p>And from time to time comes a -new impulse of the stronger torrent—its -yellowing waters tinge the blue—it -is fuller, and there is a sense of -well-being; and yet that transparent -river of spiritual being, clear as crystal, -has been sullied, it has disappeared.</p> - -<p>Such little trivial things too will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> -give him back the life which is his -power and his bondage;—the cup of -iced coffee, that he looks for and can -drink when other food nauseates, this -makes him feel that he lives again and -yet kills that clearer, sweeter, finer, -life;—as much, in a sense, as overpowering -bodily discomfort kills it—more, -perhaps, for the more it overpowers -the more external it is, the -less it is himself.</p> - -<p>If only he can keep from fear, for -that kills all. And yet this thread of -consciousness, which I have called -spiritual, is not thinking any thought, -it is seeing visions, and these visions -are not of another world but of the -sweeter, purer things of this world, -transfigured and serene. He is a child<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> -again in a Cornish lane, and the grass -is deep and dewy, the banks are high, -crowned with little bushes nearly bare of -leaf, for it is spring; deep in the grass -are primroses, long stalked and growing -by the handful, you can thrust your -hand into the damp grass, rich in little -ferns and unnamed leaves, and pluck -them so; between the primroses there -are violets—are they purple or grey or -blue?—and here and there a celandine, -golden yellow. Or he is a boy -sitting on a rock; his feet are bare, -the sea is shallow round him, the -ripples run out, and the sun shining -through them laces the fine sand below -with gold. He tells the nurses that -as soon as he is well he will go to -the sea and dip his feet in it.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>Then he thinks of music that he -knows, and it comes with unutterable -sweetness of cadence like music heard -in dreams.</p> - -<p>And this radiance lies not only on -things imagined but on things seen. -The roses brought into the room are -the roses of Dorothea; the scent of -the palm, in blossom outside, fills the -room with an ethereal fragrance; and -oh, those clusters of waxen palm -flowers that his friends bring in and -place in the green jug, surely it -must come from that tree whose very -leaves are for the healing of the -nations!</p> - -<p>It is only at night that the horror -comes—no nameless horror, but the -horror of fighting with the darkness;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> -it is hot, and it stifles. The doctors -have been, and he knows their report -is not good though no one has told -him so. The medicine bottles begin -to change; there is one like a -knight’s head near the candle, he -knows it is only a cork in it, but it -is very like the armoured head of a -knight; and the darkness comes near, -it oppresses all, laying a heavy hand -on the world: it is too near, too -heavy, all round us and weighing on -us above.</p> - -<p>He sleeps, to shout at the people -in the room—he asks the nurse to -expel the Arab who is beside the bed. -He knows they are not there at all, -but he does not want to sleep, for he -will wake in that horrible strangle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -of breath. It is so long, if only there -were any light at all! Weary, interminable -length, and some lines of a -poem run in his mind:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">“An hour or two more and God is so kind</div> -<div class="verse">The day will be blue in the window blind.”</div> -<div class="verse"><hr class="tb" /></div> -<div class="verse">“Thank the kind God the carts come in.”</div> -</div></div> - -<p>They come in so early in London.—Only -an hour or two is quiet in the -night, and you would know that the -world is alive again, one would not -have to keep the darkness long at bay; -but here the night is day-long. Brandy—what -is the good? The smell is nauseating; -but it is at his lips, and he -drinks. Has he slept? but it is black -and still and dark, the dogs howl and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -scuffle past the window. Hours more -to come, hours of the blackness. One -of these people who is about the room -sits down by the bed. She is not -terrifying. She is only an old lady -with grey hair, but she expects something. -She must be told to go away; -they will not tell her, and he is angry -with urging. But of course she was -not really there, it was only a dream; -so he must have slept again, and the -minutes must have passed.</p> - -<p>There is a hint of grey in the sky, -the whisper of a breeze in the palm -leaves—dawn is coming. Now there -is one hour of horror to go through, -for the windows must be shut; he -cannot breathe—he cannot live like -this for an hour. The door into the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> -passage may be opened, and the nurse’s -step falls cold and echoing on the stone -outside; no one else is moving, it is all -grey and cold; he knows how that -empty passage must look. This is -better, for the blackness is going.</p> - -<p>He sees the palm-trees outside above -the muslin blinds; all the world is still -and dead, its light gone out, but it can -be rekindled. From the other window -nothing can be seen but colourless sky, -but the sky itself begins to kindle into -life.</p> - -<p>Suddenly something falls across the -muslin blind; a bar, and a dot of sunlight, -of that molten gold of Egyptian -sunshine before the day has dried it -into dust of gold. Oh the extraordinary -beauty of that gold! Has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> -sunshine been always in the world -before, and yet we never knew it was -like that? The darkness has passed, -the light shines, the rapture and the -beauty of the light spreads and -broadens; the sky is awake, the garden -is alive, the night is gone—and now -the window towards the south is -thrown open, and very faint and fair, -a delicate violet light lies on the hills -beyond the river. The air is blown in -sweet, fragrant, unspeakably pure; and -that carob-tree on which the birds sat -yesterday is green and fresh, and below -is the blue-green of the corn into -which they dropped.</p> - -<p>An Arab is riding on his camel along -the dyke, they are outlined against that -purple hill. So people still live and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -move outside; they can move then, they -can go where they wish. But he sees -the sun, and the breath of heaven -comes in, and the night is passed. He -is tired with this warring against the -night, but the light has come and the -clearer, brighter river is flowing again. -This is day.</p> - -<p>What is this land where the spirit -has been living? Is it the land of -Beulah or the Valley of the Shadow? -Which is most real? He knows which -is most substantial, but why is it most -real? The instrument is more substantial -than the melody and infinitely -less real. Yet when the veil grows -thin which hides the glory of the -vision, agonizing we entreat that it -may not be removed and show the -glory of the face.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> - - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - - - -<div class="indent5">“The luminous</div> -<div class="verse">Star-inwrought, beautiful</div> -<div class="indent3">Folds of the Veil.”</div> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Many</span> have written of the journey -down to the dark river; few have -told of the road backward from the -river’s brink; a road of sudden ecstasies -and sordid pitfalls.</p> - -<p>For the radiance lay over the earth -when he turned his face to it again. -Nothing was ever sweeter than the -sight of palm leaves against the blue -upon the banks of the Nile. As -the shores streamed past, with the rosy -hills and yellow lights above them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> -winged feluccas furling sail, or sweeping -like birds across the blue, with -the roaring of the swiftness of their -motion, he could lie and look—weary -with rapture—watching the figures -sprung from the old Palestinian story—a -rugged Peter wrapping his fisher’s -cloak about him, or urging his fellows -“I go a-fishing.” But slowly, imperceptibly, -the walls of the world -closed in again; the sun beat pitilessly -down; the heavens were brass, the -earth iron. Now and again they -would open out at the sight of the -sapphire sparkle of the Mediterranean, -or the deep, green growth under -blossoming orchards of France. The -wind became the life-giving breath of -the spirit, and the soul would “beat”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> -against “mortal bars,” seeing infinite -power, infinite possibility, lying but -just beyond the frail partition; a -touch, and he might glide from the -mountain side down over the trees -that slept in the noonday of the valley; -a hand on the eyes, and they would -see to the truth that lies beneath form -and colour of earthly things; a finger -on the ear, and he would hear the -very meaning of the wind and of -the trickle of the stream—the gift -of tongues would be an imaginably -natural incident.</p> - -<p>Yet next day, at some trifling ailment, -death and its terrors compass him -about, and the man shakes as with -ague under the fear of it and shame -of cowardice. Or he wakes every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> -morning seemingly refreshed, only to -fall by midday into a gulf of blackness -and mistrust, sordid, not tragic, not -dignified; and he sits tongue-tied, -seeing a sneer in every smile, marvelling -that men do not see the loathsomeness -and terror that lie around them, but -walk unconcerned among the dangers -that encompass. Then again life -returns in full flood, and the fears and -the terrors are as the fabric of a dream.</p> - -<p>A long, strange way, full of inexplicable -joys and sorrows, hopes and -fears—a far longer path to travel in -the spirit than that by which he -came “out of the iron furnace, even -out of Egypt,” to the cool airs and -sweet quiet of an old English country -house in wooded downs touched by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> -the freshness of the sea. There in -the south, after the first bound towards -health, life had stood still; the parched, -sapless land could yield dry, clear air, -sharp bright sunlight, but no refreshment -of health and of spirit, -nothing that could be compared to -the misty mornings, and soft dewy -evenings of a mild English spring. -There the spring brings no refreshment; -March reaps her harvest -and the palm leaves hang dry and -yellowish: here all life was stirring -after the winter sleep, and earth was -striving in her own finite way to -make all things new. It was long -since he had seen an English spring, -and the eye could not be satisfied -with gazing.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>He first noticed it when, looking -on the wintry copses, he saw that a -thin ripple of life had run over the -ground; among brown stalks and -withered leaves so slight a flush of -green that you could hardly say, “It is -here” or “It is there,” nor surely know -the change was worked to the outer -eye or noted by the reanimate perception. -Then the fine veil of skeleton -branches against the sky, through, -under, beyond which he could see -the blue downs of the coast, thickened, -and they warmed in colour; till the -brown of the elm became purple, -and the brown of the beeches red, -and the willow golden: then the elm -burst into its little purple rosettes but -the others stayed. And now crept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -out those little silvery creatures which -the children call palms; like little -downy animals, so sweet, so comfortable -that the child must half believe they -are alive. Early in April the clumps -of crocus in the turf, purple and yellow, -were dying, but the daffodils were -beginning to take their place, strewing -the rough grass with flowers of milky -gold. A week later the snake-heads -were drawing themselves out of the -turf, with head curved downwards -like a swan preening its breast; -primroses were waking in the lanes, -the larch was hanging “rosy -plumelets,” the silver leaf buds of -the apple were out, and the flower -of the peach.</p> - -<p>This was cuckoo day, and punctual<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> -to the moment they hooted in the -wood below; they had come in good -time for the later nests, for the wagtails -had taken their last year’s tenement -again in the ivied wall, and the -untidy sparrows were littering lawn -and garden.</p> - -<p>Again a week, and the cherry buds -showed fawn coloured; two days they -stayed so, then a little tree burst into -flower. Two days more, and the -orchard looked as if a snow shower -had lightly fallen. At last one windy -day white blossoms came drifting down -among the scarlet tulips, and after -this a rose-tinge passed over the trees, -like a faint sunset on the snow, and -then the glory was gone. But the -expanding spirit could not bewail the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> -glory gone, for warmer weather came -with sun like summer, so that the -plum-tree on the wall burst into flower -one morning while one sat under it; -a purple iris appeared, the blackthorn -whitened, and in the garden beds the -peonies and lilies shot up, anemones -dozed half their radiant life away in -royal groups, purple and scarlet. The -remembrance of trembling and helplessness -fell from the man, and he -laughed to see the peacock’s grave and -measured dance and the fierce cock -chaffinch wooing in his bright spring -coat.</p> - -<p>So the spring returned, unfolding -infinite new delights, sometimes hurrying, -sometimes delaying; the copses -clothed themselves in foliage as light<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> -as a birch grove, with all fine gradations -of colour from the grey palms grown -old, to the golden oaks beginning, -and all life and all activity responded. -Though storms and chill might check -the budding, the renewal of the spring -moved in man and nature, as man and -nature shook off the memory of death -and winter, warmed and revivified in -the waxing power of the sun.</p> - -<p>And the world found voice for its joy, -and it was joy to lie awake in the hour -before dawn, while the last fine song of -the nightingale still lingered in the -memory, and hear the untutored song -echo from bush to bush; when the -thrush and the blackbird waked, and -the starling chattered, and the cock -chimed in with the lusty bar of music<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> -of his bugle call, and all in chorus -welcomed the day, and ceased.</p> - -<p>And one morning, as the man leaned -out of his window to drink the sweet -air of growing things, he saw suddenly, -that the desire of spring was satiate. -The trees had burst their buds and -made a glory of golden leaves. Life -no longer pulsed, stayed, hurried on, -but flowed in the full tide of summer. -Summer would burst into glories of -beauty and odour on this side and on -that, but the fresh impulse of spring -was over. And the man leaned out -and revelled in it. The rough bank -had covered its scars with lush green -grass; and leaves, stems, and branches -were hidden. He revelled in the -odorous, sun-warmed air, in the pleasant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> -kindly earth with its beauties, in the -sight and sound of the happy living -things, and he looked away towards -the hills, but they were hidden. Then -all at once he saw the blindness of -content, and he cried out “Oh my soul, -where are the heavenly horizons and -the distant misty hills?”</p> - -<p>For while he gazed, the veil had -fallen; at first translucent, radiant; -threads fine as gossamer shining with -light, so that they seemed but to -illuminate the distance. Then the -veil was inwrought with flowers and as -each new beauty came, he said “This -is God’s work, and I can see Him in -this; all this symbolizes the light of -His countenance, and I see Him in His -world.” And of each human interest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> -and activity he said, “This is God’s -work, for it is the work of His -children.” So it fell fold on fold, -thickening imperceptibly, full of sweet -odours as it fell, and the voices of -birds; and he did not know that the -focus of his view was contracting, and -that he was beginning to look not -through the veil but at it. And he -did not see that there was another hand -at work and other threads in the web, -grosser, more earthly, and darker yet; -and that as it was woven, warp and -woof, other hands threw the shuttle.</p> - -<p>So it fell, closing out the heavenly -vision, hiding too the clouds and darkness -round God’s seat; and he found -himself gazing on the veil which men -call this world. Then with a great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> -struggle he cried, “In the time of our -wealth, good Lord deliver us.”</p> - - -<h3>III</h3> - -<p>The year came round again, and this -man had found no contentment for mind -or heart. He was such a one as had -always believed in the unity of God -and nature, had held the visible -universe to be the robe of His glory -and the material to be like clothing -which partly hides and partly reveals -the form.</p> - -<p>He was a man whom God had chastened -a little in the flesh, so that He -might know the Hand that touched -him, yet had given him no loathsome<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> -evil thing to be with him, so that he -must hate even the body that served -him. God had given him amply of the -good things of life and sufficiently of -its sorrows to make him know the first -were good. He had early looked into -the empty tomb and seen that since -even the body can in time elude it, it -would be beyond reason and belief to -dream that the soul can be prisoned by -it. For the soul is not even prisoned -by the body, seeing that it can walk -among the stars, thread the secret places -of the earth, or dive into the seas, while -the eyes of the body stare upon a book; -or it can fight battles and go through -many strange adventures and visit distant -lands while the eyes are closed and the -body is laid upon the bed. Therefore<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> -this man had long believed in his soul, -though he had not taught his life and -his fancies that though the material -sometimes appears to be greater and -stronger and older than the spiritual, -yet that this is merely as the flower -seems to one who looks not below the -ground to be more vital than the root. -So though he believed this, the man -could not understand what the truth of -the world might be. For he saw that -although one may rejoice in its beauties -and delight even in wholly innocent -things, believing truly that they come -from God, yet many men thus go -astray. And when he listened to the -voices of the dearest of God’s servants -he became all the more perplexed. -For one cried “All things are yours,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> -things present as well as things to come”; -but another said “Love not the world.” -Again he heard one say “It is good to -be here; let us build three tabernacles”; -and saw him that said it straightway -led into the dust and turmoil of the -incredulous crowd. And the sweetest -voice said now “Deny yourself,” and -now “Consider the lilies, consider the -birds.”</p> - -<p>This man was a man who always loved -the water. It made a great calm in his -mind to see the sea spread calm before -his feet; the storm of the sea filled him -with life, and to die in the sea would, -he thought, be like a child sinking to -sleep in its mother’s arms. Clear, -translucent water drew him with a -great longing, and he dreamt often<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> -that he should bathe, but as his -feet touched the water it ebbed -away.</p> - -<p>Now near his home there spread, -embowered in trees, a great lake; on -one side ran a road neglected and -seldom used, from this the lake ran up -curving out of sight. Half-way up -towards the curve there stood a great -oak, and beneath this he often bathed. -So being in this perplexity he went out -one summer morning, passed through -the sleeping village and by the church, -and went down to the lake.</p> - -<p>And in the turn of the year again -the woods were lightly foliaged, and -the branches shone golden between the -leaves; the ground beneath the oak -was carpeted with hyacinths and primroses,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -here and there a late anemone -starred it.</p> - -<p>Here he undressed and plunged from -a little height into a pool. His hands -parted the water, which rushed up him -as he plunged; then he gave himself -up to the element and it lifted him to the -surface. Again he warred with it, yet -moved by means of it, with steady stroke -parting it, and again he turned over and -yielded himself up to it, and the least -movement was enough to keep him -floating on the surface, and he rejoiced -in the coolness and the purity. So -when he had finished he returned and -clothed himself, and moved on through -the edge of the wood, looking at the -water, wondering at a transparency that -was so deep and the strength of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> -fleeting thing, till he came to where a -little wooden bridge spanned the overflow -from the lake; and upon the -bridge a boy of about eight years old -was sitting.</p> - -<p>He was not dressed like a village -child; his cap lay beside him with a -little spray of reddening oak stuck -into it, and he was staring at the -water.</p> - -<p>“Who are you, my son?” said the -man as he passed.</p> - -<p>“I’m a king,” the child replied; -“but I’m an outlaw just now, you -see,” he went on, laying his hand -on his cap. “I can’t get into my -kingdom.”</p> - -<p>“Where is your kingdom?” asked -the man.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>“Come down here and you’ll see,” -he said.</p> - -<p>The man sat down beside him on the -plank.</p> - -<p>“I can’t see much,” he said, “the -water is dazzling.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, those are the sun’s messengers,” -said the boy; “the sun sends messengers -millions and millions of miles to the -lake and they telegraph back to him. -But you must look in another place.”</p> - -<p>The man slipped into the humour of -the child.</p> - -<p>“Now I see your kingdom,” he -said; “it has greenish forests waving, -strange transparent creatures move -silently about.”</p> - -<p>“No, that’s not my kingdom,” the -child answered, “why, I can get in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> -there; but it is not like what you think. -Those are slippery fishes and the -bottom is all slimy. You must fix -your eyes tight and not let them slip to -see my kingdom.”</p> - -<p>“Now I see it,” said the other; “it -has beautiful blue sky, trees stretch -twigs into it which glisten like gold—one -spreads leaves like jewelled glass -with the sun shining through; one -stretches budding twigs made of ruby; -it is far, far below the shine and the -fishes; and yet when I look it is quite -close to us.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, that’s my kingdom!” cried the -child.</p> - -<p>“But isn’t it just like that behind -us?” said the man, to test him.</p> - -<p>The boy looked round. “No, that’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> -out-of-doors,” he said. “My kingdom -is much more happy and safe, and the -sky is more shining and the leaves -glitter.”</p> - -<p>“But it’s the sun’s kingdom down -there even where the shine is,” said the -man.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I know it’s his,” said the boy; -“if he didn’t send messengers down -there it would be all inky black and -dreadful; but they won’t let his messengers -get through, only a few of -them, a little yellowish, greenish light.”</p> - -<p>“Is out-of-doors his kingdom too?” -then said the man.</p> - -<p>“Of course it’s his,” said the child; -“if he wasn’t there it would be dark, -and the wind would sob and the trees -shake their branches.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>“And what about your kingdom?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, he makes that for me,” said -the child, “to be all my own.”</p> - -<p>The man sat a moment looking at -the water and was silent; a starling -chattered on the boughs above; far -away came the cry of the cuckoo; at -the right hand of them there was a little -rustle as a snake slipped over dead leaves -and through the new living shoots of -spring, and paused.</p> - -<p>The man turned to the child.</p> - -<p>“But is it real?” he said.</p> - -<p>“It’s just as real as the sun and the -water and out-of-doors,” said the boy -steadily.</p> - -<p>“But you said some day you would -get in,” answered the man, tempting -him.</p> - - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>The boy turned and looked at him, -and his eyes were like a great stream -with the sun shining through. “And -that’s just as real as me,” he -said.</p> - -<p>The man snapped the twig he held -in his hand, the snake silently slipped -through the brake and was gone, and -the man stood up, yet paused a moment -looking down at the shining world, -then he got up.</p> - -<p>“Goodbye,” he said, “I must go -and look for my kingdom. I had one -once but I lost it.”</p> - -<p>“Shall you be able to get in?” asked -the boy.</p> - -<p>“Not just yet, perhaps,” he said, -“but I can look at it till I find the way -in.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>So he went back through the wood, -remembering that it was written, -“Out of the mouth of babes thou hast -perfected praise.”</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="center"> -<span class="antiqua">The Gresham Press,</span><br /> - -UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED,<br /> -WOKING AND LONDON.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - - -<p class="ph2">FOOTNOTES:</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Some of the descriptions which follow include -things seen on our later visits.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> In later years we found a garden open to the -public, and even trees in it.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> More than one such outer chapel of a tomb -we made to serve as a place for Christian worship.</p></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="transnote"> - -<p class="ph2">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> - - - - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> - -<p>Archaic or alternate spelling which may have been in use at the time of publication has been retained.</p> -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Court of the King, by Margaret Benson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COURT OF THE KING *** - -***** This file should be named 61478-h.htm or 61478-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/4/7/61478/ - -Produced by David E. 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