IDOLATRY:
A ROMANCE.
BY
JULIAN  HAWTHORNE.
BOSTON:
JAMES R. OSGOOD AND COMPANY,
LATE TICKNOR & FIELDS, AND FIELDS, OSGOOD, & Co.
1874.




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874,
BY  JAMES R. OSGOOD  &  CO.,
ill the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
UNIVERSITY PRESS: WELCH, BIGELOW, & Co.,
CAMBRIDGE.




CO  TE N T S.
PAGE
DEDICATION.....5
I. THE ENCHANTED RING.....          7
II. OUT OF EGYPT.....          17
III. A MAY MORNING......    32
IV. A BRAHMAN......42
V. A NEW MAN WITH AN OLD FACE...    51
VI. THE VAGARIES OF HELWYSE...           70
VII. A QUARREL.......                        82
VIII. A COLLISION IMMINENT..   87
IX. THE VOICE OF DARKNESS....   101
X. HELWYSE RESISTS THE DEVIL... 110
XI. A DEAD WEIGHT.....   113
XII. MORE VAGARIES....120
XIII. THROUGH A GLASS.....   133
XIV. THE TOWER OF BABEL.      147
XV. CHARON'S FERRY..153
XVI. LEGEND AND CHRONICLE....   166
XVII. FACE TO FACE......                174
XVIII. THE HOOPOE AND THE CROCODILE..           184
XIX. BEFORE SUNDOWN......   204




iv                    CONTENTS.
XX. BETWEEN WAKING AND SLEEPING... 210
XXI. WE PICK UP ANOTHER THREAD...   221
XXII. HEART AND HEAD......236
XXIII. BALDER TELLS AN UNTRUTH..  246
XXIV. UNCLE HIERO AT LAST.... 256
XXV. THE HAPPINESS OF MAN.   266
XXVI. MuSIC AND MADNESS.... 277
XXVII. PEACE AND GOOD-WILL.   289
XXVIII. BETROTHAL.....299
XXIX. A CHAMBER OF THE HEART...   310
XXX. DANDELIONS......                     321
XXXI. MARRIED...... 332
XXXII. SHUT IN....           346
XXXIII. THE BLACK CLOUD.....   355




DEDICATION.
To ROBERT  CARTER, ESQ.
"    OT the intrinsic merits of this story embolden me to
inscribe it to you, my dear friend; but the fact that
you, more than any other man, are responsible for its
writing.  Your advice and encouragement first led me to
book-making; so it is only fair that you should partake
of whatever obloquy (or honor) the practice may bring
upon me.
The ensuing pages may incline you to suspect their
author of a repugnance to unvarnished truth; but, - without prejudice to Othello, -  since varnish brings out in
wood veins of beauty invisible before the application, why
not also in the sober facts of life  When the transparent
artifice has been penetrated, the familiar substance underneath will be greeted none the less kindly; nay, the
observer will perhaps regard the disguise as an oblique
compliment to his powers of insight, and his attention
may thus be better secured than had the subject worn
its every-day dress.  Seriously, the most matter-of-fact life
has moods when the light of romance seems to gild its
earthen chimney-pots into fairy minarets; and, were the
story-teller but sure of laying his hands upon the true
gold, perhaps the more his story had of it, the better.
Here, however, comes in the grand difficulty; fact nor




6                       DEDICATION.
fancy is often reproduced in true colors; and while attempting justly to combine life's elements, the writer has
to beware that they be not mere cheap imitations thereof.
Not seldom  does it happen  that what he proffers as
genuine arcana of imagination and philosophy affects the
reader as a dose of Hieroglyphics and lBalderdash.  Nevertheless, the first duty of the fiction-monger    no less
than of the photographic artist doomed to produce successful portraits of children-in-arms - is, to be amusing; to
shrink at no shifts which shall beguile the patient into
procrastinating escape until the moment be gone by. The
gentle reader will not too  sternly  set his face against
such artifices, but, so they go not the length of fantastically presenting phenomena inexplicable upon any commonsense hypothesis, he will rather lend himself to his own
beguilement.   The performance once over; let him, if so
inclined, strip the feathers from the flights of imagination,
and wash the color from  the incidents; if aught save the
driest and  most ordinary matters of fact reward his researches, then let him be offended!
De te fabula does not apply here, my dear friend; for
you will show me more indulgence  than I have skill to
demand.  And should you find matter of interest in this
book, yours, rather than the author's, will be the merit.
As the beauty of nature is from  the eye that looks upon
her, so would the story be dull and barren, save for the
life and color of the reader's sympathy.
Yours most sincerely,
JULIAN HAWTHORNE.




IDOLATRY.
I.
THE ENCHANTED  RING.
O NE of the most imposing buildings in Boston
twenty years ago was a granite hotel, whose
western windows looked upon a graveyard.  Passing
up a flight of steps, and beneath a portico of dignified granite columns, and so through an embarrassing
pair of swinging-doors to the roomy vestibule, — you
would there pause a moment to spit upon the blackand-white tessellated pavement. Having thus asserted
your title to Puritan ancestry, and to the best accommodations the house afforded, you would approach the
desk and write your name in the hotel register. This
done, you would be apt to run your eye over the last
dozen arrivals, on the chance of lighting upon the
autograph of some acquaintance, to be shunned or
sought according to circumstances.
Let us suppose, for the story's sake, that such was
the gentle reader's behavior on a certain night during




8                    IDOLATRY.
the latter part of May, in the year eighteen hundred
and fifty-three. If now he will turn to the ninetyninth page of the register above mentioned, he will
remark that the last name thereon written is, " Doctor
Hiero Glyphic. Room 27."  The natural inference is
that, unless so odd a name be an assumed one, Doctor Glyphic occupies that room. Passing on to page
one hundred, he will find the first entry reads as follows: " Balder Helwyse, Cosmopolis.  Poom 29."
In no trifling mood do we call attention to these
two names, and, above all, to their relative position
in the book. Had they both appeared upon the same
page, this romance might never have been written.
On such seemingly frail pegs hang consequences the
most weighty. Because Doctor Glyphic preferred the
humble foot of the ninety-ninth page to the trouble
of turning to a leading position on the one hundredth;
because Mr. Helwyse, having begun the one hundredth
page, was too incurious to find out who was his nextdoor neighbor on the ninety-ninth, ensued unparalleled
adventures, and this account of them.
Our present purpose, by the reader's leave, and in
his company, is to violate Doctor Hiero Glyphic's retirement, as he lies asleep in bed.; Nor shall we stop
at his bedside; we mean to penetrate deep into the
darksome caves of his memory, and to drag forth
thence sundry odd-looking secrets, which shall blink




THE ENCHANTED RING.               9
and look strangely in the light of discovery; — little
thought their keeper that our eyes should ever behold
them!  Yet will he not resent our intrusion; it is
twenty years ago,- and he lies asleep.
Two o'clock sounds from the neighboring steeple of
the Old South Church, as we noiselessly enter the
chamber, -noiselessly, for the hush of the past is
about us. We scarcely distinguish anything at first;
the moon has set on the other side of the hotel, and
perhaps, too, some of the dimness of those twenty
intervening years affects our eyesight.  By degrees,
however, objects begin to define themselves; the bed
shows doubtfully white, and that dark blot upon the
pillow must be the face of our sleeping man. It is
turned towards the window; the mouth is open; probably the good Doctor is snoring, albeit, across this
distance of time, the sound fails to reach us.
The room  is as bare, square, and characterless as
other hotel rooms; nevertheless, its occupant may
have left a hint or two of himself about, which would
be of use to us. There are no trunks or other luggage; evidently he will be on his way again to-morrow. The window is shut, although the night is warm
and clear. The door is carefully locked. The Doctor's garments, which appear to be of rather a jaunty
and knowing cut, are lying disorderly about, on chair,
table, or floor. He carries no watch; but under his
1*




10                    IDOLATRY.
pillow we see protruding the corner of a great leathern
pocket-book, which might contain a fortune in banknotes.
A  couple of chairs are drawn up to the bedside,
upon one of which stands a blown-out candle; the
other supports an oblong, coffin-shaped box, narrower
at one end than at the other, and painted black.  Too
small for a coffin, however; no human corpse, at least,
is contained in it. But the frame that lies so quiet and
motionless here, thrills, when awaked to life, with a
soul only less marvellous than man's. In short, the
coffin is a violin-case, and the mysterious frame the
violin. The Doctor must have been fiddling overnight,
after getting into bed; to the dissatisfaction, perhaps,
of his neighbor on the other side of the partition.
Little else in the room is worthy notice, unless it be
the pocket-comb which has escaped from the Doctor's
waistcoat, and the shaving materials (also pocketable)
upon the wash-stand. Apparently our friend does not
stand upon much toilet ceremony. The room has nothing more of significance to say to us; so now we come
to the room's occupant. Our eyes have got enough accustomed to the imperfect light to discern what manner
of man he may be.
Barely middle-aged; or, at a second glance, he might
be fifteen to twenty-five years older.  His face retains
the form of youth, yet wears a subtile shadow which




THE ENCHANTED RING.                 1 
we feel might be consistent even with extreme old
age.  The forehead is wide and low, supported by
regular eyebrows; the face beneath long and narrow,
of a dark and dry complexion. In sleep, open-mouthed,
the expression is rather inane; though we can readily
imagine the waking face to be not devoid of a certain
intensity and comeliness of aspect, marred, however, by
an air of guarded anxiety which is apparent even now.
We prattle of the dead past, and use to fancy that
peace must dwell there, if nothing else.  Only in the
past, say we, is security from jostle, danger, and disturbance; who would live at his ease must number his
days backwards; no charm so potent as the years, if
read from right to left.  Living in the past, prophecy
and memory are at one; care for the future can harass
no man.  Throw overboard that Jonah, Time, and the
winds of fortune shall cease to buffet us.  And more
to the same effect.
And yet it is not so. The past, if more real than
the future, is no less so than the present; the pain of
a broken heart or head is never annihilated, but becomes part and parcel of eternity. This uneasy snorer
here, for instance: his earthly troubles have been over
years ago, yet, as our fancy sees him, he is none the
calmer or the happier for that.  Observe him, how he
mumbles inarticulately, and makes strengthless clutchings at the blanket with his long, slender fingers.




12                   IDOLATRY.
But we delay too long over the external man, seeing
that our avowed business is with the internal.  A
sleeping man is truly a helpless creature.  They say
that, if you take his hand in yours and ask him questions, he has no other choice than to answer — or to
awake.  The Doctor -  as we know by virtue of the
prophetic advantages just remarked upon- will stay
asleep for some hours yet. Or, if you are clairvoyant,
you have but to fall in a trance, and lay a hand on his
forehead, and you may read off his thoughts, - provided he does his thinking in his head. But the
world is growing too wise, nowadays, to put faith in
old woman's nonsense like this.  Again, there is   or
used to be- an odd theory that all matter is a sort of
photographic plate, whereon is registered, had we but
eyes to read it, the complete history of itself.  What
an invaluable pair of eyes were that!  In vain, arraigned before them, would the criminal deny his guilt,
the lover the soft impeachment.  The whole scene
would stand forth, photographed in fatal minuteness
and indelibility upon face, hands, coat-sleeve, shirtbosom.  Mankind would be its own book of life,
written in the primal hieroglyphic character, - the
language understood by all. Vocal conversation would
become obsolete, unless among a few superior persons
able to discuss abstract ideas.
We speak of these things only to smile at them; far




THE ENCHANTED RING.                 13
be it from  us to insult the reader's understanding by
asking him to regard them seriously. But story-tellers
labor under one disadvantage which is peculiar to their
profession, - the necessity of omniscience. This tends
to make them  too arbitrary, leads them  to disregard
the modesty of nature and the harmonies of reason in
their methods.  They will pretend to know  things
which they never could have seen or heard of, and for
the truth of which they bring forward no evidence;
thus forcing the reader to reject, as lacking proper confirmation, what he would else, from its inherent grace
or sprightliness, be happy to accept.
That we shall be free from this reproach is rather
our good fortune than our merit. It is by favor of our
stars, not by virtue of our own, that we turn not aside
from the plain path of truth to the by-ways of supernaturalism  and improbability.  Yet we refrain with
difficulty from a breath of self-praise; there is a proud
and solid satisfaction in holding an unassailable position; could we but catch the world's eye, we would
meet it calmly!
Let us hasten to introduce our talisman. You may
see it at this very moment, encircling the third finger
of Doctor Glyphic's left hand; in fact, it is neither
more nor less than a quaint diamond ring.  The stone,
though not surprisingly large, is surpassingly pure
and brilliant; as its keen, delicate ray sparkles on the




14                    IDOLATRY.
eye, one marvels whence, in the dead of night, it got
together so much celestial fire. Observe the setting;
the  design  is unique.  Two  fairy serpents — one
golden, the other fashioned from black meteoric iron
-are intertwined along their entire length, forming
the hoop of the ring.  Their heads approach the dianond from  opposite sides, and each makes a mighty
bite at it with his tiny jaws, studded with sharp little
teeth. Thus their contest holds the stone firmly in
place.  The whole forms a pretty symbol of the human soul, battled for by the good and the evil principles. But the diamond seems, in its entirety, to be an
awkward mouthful for either.  The snakes are wrought
with marvellous dexterity and finish; each separate
scale is distinguishable upon their glistening bodies,
the wrinkling of the skin in the coils, the sparkling
points of eyes, and the minute nostrils.  Such works
of art are not made nowadays; the ring is an antique,
-a relic of an age when skill was out of all proportion
to liberty, —a very distant time indeed.  To deserve
such a setting, the stone must have exceptional qualities. Let us take a closer look at it.
Fortunately, its own lustre makes it visible in every
part; the minuteness of our scrutiny need be limited
only by our power of eye. It is cut with many facets,
-twenty-seven, if you choose to count them; perhaps
(though we little credit such fantasies) some mystic




THE ENCHANTED RING.                15
significance may be intended in this number.  Concentrating now our attention upon any single facet, we
see   either inscribed upon its surface, or showing
through from  the interior of the stone-a sort of
monogram, or intricately designed character, not unlike
the mysterious Chinese letters on tea-chests.  Every
facet has a similar figure, though no two are identical.
But the central, the twenty-seventh facet, which is
larger than the others, has an important peculiarity.
Looking upon it, we find therein, concentrated and
commingled, the other twenty-six characters; which,
separately unintelligible, form, when thus united, a
simple and consistent narrative, equivalent in extent
to many hundred printed pages, and having for subject
nothing less than the complete history of the ring
itself.
Some small portion of this narrative - that, namely,
which relates more particularly to the present wearer
of the ring —we will glance at; the rest must be
silence, although, going back as it does to the earliest
records of the human race, maiy an interesting page
must be slipped perforce.
The advantages to a historian of a medium such as
this are too patent to need pointing out. Pretension
and conjecture will be avoided, because unnecessary.
The most trifling thought or deed of any person connected with the history of the ring is laid open to




16                   IDOLATRY.
direct inspection. Were there more such talismans as
this, the profession of authorship would become no less
easy than delightful, and criticism would sting itself to
death, in despair of better prey. So far as is known,
however, the enchanted ring is unique of its kind,
and, such as it is, is not likely to become common
property.




II.
OUT OF EGYPT.
UT the small hours of the morning are slipping
away; we must construe our hieroglyphics without further palaver. The sleeper lies upon his side, his
left hand resting near his face upon the pillow. Were
he to move it ever so little during our examination,
the history of years might be thrown into confusion.
Nevertheless, we shall hope to touch upon all the more
important points, and in some cases to go into details.
Concentrating our attention upon the central facet,
its clear ray strikes the imagination, and forthwith
transports us to a distant age and climate. The air is
full of lazy warmth. A full-fed river, glassing the hot
blue sky, slides in long curves through a low-lying,
illimitable plain. The rich earth, green with mighty
crops, everywhere exhales upward the quivering heat
of her breath.  An indolent, dark-skinned race, turbaned and scantly clothed, move through the meadows,
splash in the river, and rest beneath the palm-trees,
which meet in graceful clusters here and there, as if
B




18                   IDOLATRY.
striving to get beneath one another's shadow. Dirty
villages swarm  and babble on the river's brink.
Were there leisure to listen, the diamond could
readily relate the whole history of this famous valley.
For the stone was fashioned to its present shape while
the thought that formed the Pyramids was yet unborn,
and while the limestone and granite whereof they are
built lay in their silent beds, dreaming, perchance, of
airy days before the deluge, long ere the heated vapors
stiffened into stone.  Some great patriarch of early
days, founder of a race called by his name, picked up
this diamond in the southern desert, and gave it its
present form; perhaps, also, breathed into it the marvellous historical gift which it retains to this day.
Who was that primal man? how sounded his voice?
were his eyes terrible, or mild? Seems, as we speak,
we glimpse his majestic figure, and the grandeur of his
face and cloudy beard.
He passed away, but the enchanted stone remained,
and has sparkled along the splendid march of successive
dynasties, and has reflected men and cities which to us
are nameless, or but a half-deciphered name.  It has
seen the mystic ceremonies of Egyptian priests, and
counts their boasted wisdom  as a twice-told tale.  It
has watched the unceasing toil of innumerable slaves,
piling up through many ardent years the idle tombs
of kings.  It has beheld vast winding lengths of pro



OUT OF EGYPT.                  19
cessions darken and glitter across the plain, slowly
devoured by the shining city, or issuing from  her
gates like a monstrous birth.
But whither wander we?  Standing in this hotel
of modern Boston, we must confine our inquiries to
a far later epoch than the Pharaohs'.  Step aside, and
let the old history sweep past, like the turbid and
eddying current of the mysterious Nile; forbearing
to launch our skiff earlier than at the beginning of
the present century.
The middle of June, eighteen hundred and sixteen:
the river is just beginning to rise, and the thirsty
land spreads wide her lap to  receive him.  Some
miles to the north slumbers Cairo in white heat, its
outline jagged with  minarets and  bulbous  domes.
Southward, the shaded Pyramids print their everlasting outlines against the tremulous distance; old as
they are, it seems as though a puff of the Khamsin
might dissolve them away.  Near at hand is a noisy,
naked crowd of men and boys, plunging and swimming in the water, or sitting and standing along the
bank.  They are watching and discussing the slow
approach up stream of a large boat with a broad lateensail, and a strange flag fluttering from the mast-head.
Rumor says that this boat contains a company of
strangers from  beyond  the sea; men who do not
wear turbans, whose dress is close-fitting, and covers




20                   IDOLATRY.
them from head to foot, — even the legs.  They come
to learn wisdom and civilization from the Pyramids,
and among the ruins of Memphis.
A hundred yards below this shouting, curious crowd,
stands, waist-deep in the Nile, a slender-limbed boy,
about ten years old. He belongs to a superior caste,
and holds himself above the common rabble.  Being
perfectly naked, a careless eye might, however, rank
him  with the rest, were it not for the talisman which
he wears suspended to a fine gold chain round his
neck; a curiously designed diamond ring, the inheritance of a long line of priestly ancestors.  The boy's
face is certainly full of intelligence, and the features
are finely moulded for so young a lad.
He also is watching the upward progress of the
lateen-sail; has heard, moreover, the report concerning
those on board.  He wonders where is the country
from which they come. Is it the land the storks fly to,
of which mother (before the plague carried both her
and father to a stranger land still) used to tell such
wonderful stories? Does the world really extend farbeyond the valley? Is the world all valley and river,
with now and then some hills, like those away up be-.yond Memphis? Are there other cities beside Cairo,
and that one which he has heard of but never seen, —
Alexandria?  Wonders why the strangers dress in
tight-fitting clothes, with leg-coverings, and without




OUT OF EGYPT.                  21
turbans!  Would like to find out about all these
things,- about all things knowable beside these, if
any there be. Would like to go back with the strangers to their country, when they return, and so become
the wisest and most powerful of his race; wiser even
than those fabulously learned priestly instructors of
his, who are so strict with him.  Perhaps he might
find all his forefathers there, and his kind mother, who
used to tell him stories.
Bah! how the sun blisters down on head and shoulders: will take a dive and a swim,- a short swim
only, not far from shore; for was not the priest telling
of a boy caught by a great crocodile, only a few days
ago, and never seen since?  But there is no crocodile
near to-day; and, besides, will not his precious talisman keep him from all harm?
The subtile Nile catches him softly in his cool arms,
dandles him, kisses him, flatters him, wooes him  imperceptibly onwards. Now he is far from shore, and
the multitudinous feet of the current are hurrying him
away.  The slow-moving boat is much nearer than it
was a minute ago, - seems to be rushing towards
him, in spite of the laziness of the impelling breeze.
The boy, as yet unconscious of his peril, now glances
shorewards, and sees the banks wheel past. The crowd
of bathers is already far beyond hearing; yet, frightened and tired, he wastes his remaining strength in




22                   IDOLATRY.
fruitless shouts.  Now the deceitful eddies, once so
soft and friendly, whirl him  down in ruthless exultation. He will never reach the shore, good swimmer
though he be!
Hark! what plunged from the bank, - what black
thing moves towards him  across the water?  The
crocodile! coming with tears in his eyes, and a long
grin of serried teeth. Coming!- the ugly scaly head is
always nearer and nearer.  The boy screams; but who
should hear him?  He feels whether the talisman be
yet round his neck.  He screams again, calling, in
half-delirium, upon his dead mother.  Meanwhile the
scaly snout is close upon him.
A many-voiced shout, close at hand; a splashing of
poles in the water; a rippling of eddies against a
boat's bows! As the boy drifts by, a blue-eyed, yellow-bearded viking swings himself from the halyard,
catches him, pulls him aboard with a jerk and a shout,
safe! The long grin snaps emptily together behind
him.  The boy lies on the deck, a vision of people with
leg-coverings and other oddities of costume swimming
in his eyes; one of them supports his head on his
knee; and bends over him a round, good-natured, spectacled face. Above, a beautiful flag, striped and starred
with white, blue, and red, flaps indolently against the
mast. 
Precisely at this point the sleeper stirs his hand




OUT OF EGYPT.                  23
slightly, but enough to throw the record of several
succeeding  years into  uncertainty  and  confusion.
Here and there, however, we catch imperfect glimpses
of the Egyptian lad, steadily growing up to be a tall
young man.  He is dressed in European clothes,
and  lives and moves amid civilized  surroundings:
Egypt, with her Pyramids, palms, and river, we see no
more.  The priest's son seems now to be immersed in
studies; he shows a genius for music and painting, and
is diligently storing his mind with other than Egyptian
lore. With him, or never far away, we meet a man
considerably older than the student,- good-natured,
whimsical, round of head and face and insignificant of
feature.  Towards him does the student observe the
profoundest deference, bowing before him, and addressing him  as "Master Hiero," or "Master Glyphic."
Master Hiero, for his part, calls the Egyptian "Manetho "; from which we might infer his descent from the
celebrated historian of that name, but will not insist
upon this genealogy. As for the studies, from certain
signs we fancy them  tending towards theology; the
descendant of Egyptian priests is to become a Christian clergyman! Nevertheless, he still wears his talismanic ring.  Does he believe it saved him  from the
crocodile?  Does his Christian enlightenment not set
him free from such superstition?
So much we piece together from detached glimpses;




24                  IDOLATRY.
but now, as the magic ray steadies once more, things
become again distinct.  Judging from  the style and
appointments of Master Hiero Glyphic's house, he is
a wealthy man, and eccentric as well. It is full of
strange incongruities and discords; beauties in abundance, but ill harmonized.  One half the house is built
like an Egyptian temple, and is enriched with many
spoils from the valley of the Nile; and here a secret
chamber is set apart for Manetho; its very existence
is known to no one save himself and Master Hiero.
He spends much of his time here, meditating and
working amidst his books and papers, playing on his
violin, or leaning idly back in his chair, watching the
sunlight, through the horizontal aperture high above
his head, creep stealthily across the opposite wall.
But these saintly and scholarly reveries are disturbed anon. Master Hiero, though a bachelor, has a
half-sister, a pale, handsome, indolent young woman,
with dark hair and eyes, and a rather haughty manner.
Helen appears, and thenceforth the household lives and
breathes according to her languid bidding.  Manetho
comes out of his retirement, and dances reverential
attendance upon her.  He is twenty-five years old,
now; tall, slender, and far from ill-looking, with his
dark, narrow eyes, wide brows, and tapering face. His
manners are gentle, subdued, insinuating, and altogether he seems to please Helen; she condescends to




OUT OF EGYPT.                  25
him, —more than condescends, perhaps.  Meantime,
alas! there is a secret opposition in progress, embodied
in the shapely person of that bright-eyed gypsy of a
girl whom her mistress Helen calls Salome. There is
no question as to Salome's complete subjection to the
attractions of the young embryo clergyman; she pursues him  with eyes and heart, and, seeing him  by
Helen's side, she is miserably but dumbly jealous.
Iow is this matter to end? Manetho's devotion to
Helen seems unwavering; yet sometimes it is hard
not to suspect a secret understanding between him and
Salome.  He has ceased to wear his ring, and once we
caught a diamond-sparkle from beneath the thick folds
of lace which cover Helen's bosom; but, on the other
hand, we fear his arm has been round the gypsy's graceful waist, and that she has learnt the secret of the private chamber.  Is demure Manetho a flirt, or do his
affections and his ambition run counter to each other?
Helen would bring him- the riches of this world, -but
what should a clergyman care for such vanities?while Salome, to our thinking, is far the prettier, livelier, and more attractive woman of the two. Brother
Hiero, whimsical and preoccupied, sees nothing of
what is going on. He is an antiquary, - an Egyptologist, and thereto his soul is wedded. He has no eyes
nor ears for the loves of other people for one another. —
Provoking!  The uneasy sleeper has moved again,
2




26                   IDOLATRY.
and  disorganized, beyond  remedy, the events of a
whole year. Judging from such fragments as reach
us, it must have been a momentous epoch. in our history. From the beginning, a handsome, stalwart, blueeyed man, with a great beard like a sheaf of straw,
shoulders upon the scene, and thenceforth becomes
inextricably mixed up with dark-eyed Helen. We recognize in him  an old acquaintance; he was on the
lateen-sailed boat that went up the Nile; it was he
who swung himself from the vessel's side, and pulled
Manetho out of the jaws of death, - a fact, by the way,
of which Manetho remained ignorant until his dying
day. With this new arrival, Helen's supremacy in the
household ends. Thor  so they call him -involuntarily commands her, and so her subjects. Against him,
the Reverend Manetho has not the ghost of a chance.
To his credit is it that he conceals whatever emotions
of disappointment or jealousy he might be supposed to
feel, and is no less winning towards Thor than towards
the rest of the world. But is it possible that the talisman still hides in Helen's bosom? Does the conflict
which it symbolizes beset her heart?
The enchanted mirror is still again, and a curious
scene is reflected from it. A large and lofty room,
windowless, lit by flaring lamps hung at intervals
round the walls; the panels contain carvings in basrelief of Egyptian emblems and devices; columns sur



OUT OF EGYPT.                  27
round the central space, their capitals carved with the
lotos-flower, their bases planted amidst papyrus leaves.
A border of hieroglyphic inscription encircles the walls,
just beneath the ceiling. In each corner of the room
rests a red granite sarcophagus, and between each pair
of pillars stands a mummy in its wooden case. At
that end farthest from  the low-browed doorwaywhich is guarded by two great figures of Isis and
Osiris, sitting impassive, with hands on knees —is
raised an altar of black marble, on which burns some
incense.  The perfumed  smoke, wavering  upwards,
mingles with that of the lamps beneath the high ceiling. The prevailing color is ruddy Indian-red, relieved
by deep blue and black, while brighter tints show here
and there. Blocks of polished stone pave the floor,
and dimly reflect the lights.
In front of the altar stands a ministerial figure, —
none other than  Manetho, who must have taken
orders, —and joins together, in holy matrimony, the
yellow-bearded Thor and the dark-haired Helen. Master Hiero, his round, snub-nosed face red with fussy
emotion, gives the bride away; while Salome, dressed
in white and looking very pretty and lady-like, does
service as bridesmaid, — such is her mistress's whim.
She seems in even better spirits than the pale bride,
and her black eyes scarcely wander from the minister's
rapt countenance.




28                   IDOLATRY.
But a few hours later, when bride and groom are
gone, Salome,- who, on some plausible pretext of her
own, has been allowed to remain with brother Hiero
until her mistress returns from the wedding-tour, —
Salome appears in the secret chamber, where the Reverend Manetho sits with his head between his hands.
We will not look too closely at this interview. There
are words fierce and tender, tears and pleadings, feverish caresses, incoherent promises, distrustful bargains;
and it is late before they part. Salome passes out
through the great tomb-like hall, where all the lamps
save one are burnt out; and the young minister remains to pursue his holy meditations alone.
We are too discreet to meddle with the honeymoon;
but, passing over some eight months, behold the husband and wife returned, to plume their wings ere taking the final flight.  Another strange scene attracts
us here.
The dusk of a summer evening.  Helen, with a more
languid step and air than before marriage, saunters
along a path through the trees, some distance from the
house. She is clad in loose-flowing drapery, and has
thrown a white shawl over her head and shoulders.
Reaching a bench of rustic woodwork, she drops weariedly down upon it.
Manetho comes out all at once, and stands before
her; he seems to have darkened together from  the




OUT OF EGYPT.                  29
shadow  of the surrounding trees.  Perhaps a little
startled at his so abrupt appearance, she opens her
eyes with a wondering haughtiness; but, at the same
time, the light pressure of the enchanted ring against
her bosom feels like a dull sting, and her heart beats
uncomfortably.  He begins to speak in his usual tone
of softest deference; he sits down by her, and now she
is paler, glances anxiously up the path for her delaying
husband, and the hand that lifts her handkerchief to
her lips trembles a little. Is it at his words? or at
their tone? or at what she sees lurking behind his
dusky eyes, curdling beneath his thin, dark skin, quivering down to the tips of his long, slender fingers?
All in a moment he bursts forth, without warning,
without restraint, the fire of the Egyptian sun boiling
in his blood and blazing in his passion.  He seizes
her soft white wrist, -then her waist; he presses
against his, her bosom,- what a throbbing,! -  her
cheek to his, -how aghast! He pours hot words in
torrents into her ears, - all that his fretting heart has
hoarded up and brooded over these months and years!
all, -sparing her not a thought, not a passionate
word.  She tries to repel him, to escape, to scream for
help; but he looks down her eyes with his own, holds
her fast, and she gasps for breath. So the serpent coils
about the dove, and stamps his image upon her bewildered brain.




30                  IDOLATRY.
Verily, the Reverend Manetho has much forgotten himself.  The issue might have been disastrous,
had not Helen, in the crisis of the affair, lost consciousness, and fallen a dead weight in his arms. He laid
her gently on the bench, fumbled for a moment in the
bosom of her dress, and drew out the diamond ring.
Just then is heard the solid step of Thor, striding and
whistling along the path.  Manetho snaps the golden
chain, and vanishes with his talisman; and he is the
first to appear, full of sympathy and concern, when the
distracted husband shouts for help.
Next morning, two little struggling human beings
are blinking and crying in a darkened room, and there
is no mother to give them milk, and cherish them in
her bosom. There sits the father, almost as still and
cold as what was his wife. She did not speak to him,
nor seem to know him, to the last. He will never
know the truth; Manetho comes and goes, and reads
the burial-service, unsuspected and unpunished. But
Salome follows him away from  the grave, and some
words pass between them. The man is no longer what
he was. He turns suddenly upon her and strikes out
with savage force; the diamond on his finger bites into
the flesh of the gypsy's breast; she will carry the scar
of that brutal blow as long as she lives.  So he drove
his only lover away, and looked upon her bright, handsome face no more.




OUT OF EGYPT.                  31
Here Doctor Glyphic- or whoever this sleeping
man may be -turns heavily upon his face, drawing
his hand, with the blood-stained ring, out of sight.
We are glad to leave him to his bad dreams; the air
oppresses us.  Come,'t is time we were off.  The
eastern horizon bows before the sun, the air colors
delicate pink, and the very tombstones in the graveyard blush for sympathy.  The sparrows have been
awake for a half-hour past, and, up aloft, the clouds,
which wander ceaselessly over the face of the earth,
alighting only on lonely mountain-tops, are tinted into
rainbow-quarries by the glorious spectacle.'




III.
A MAY MORNING.
KE';ING' ATHUR, in his Bohemian days, carried
an adamantine shield, the gift of some fairy relative. Not only was it impenetrable, but, so intolerable was its lustre, it overthrew all foes before the lance's
point could reach them.  Observing this, the chivalric
monarch had a cover made for it, which he never removed save in the face of superhuman odds.
Here is an analogy.  The imaginative reader may
look upon our enchanted facet-mirror as too glaringly
simple and direct a source of facts to suit the needs
of a professed romance.  Be there left, he would say,
some room  for fancy, and even for conjecture.  Let
the author seem occasionally to consult with his companion, gracefully to defer to his judgment.  Bare
statement, the parade  of indisputable  evidence, is
well enough in law, but appears ungentle in a work
of fiction.
How  just is this mild censure! how  gladly are
its demands conceded!  Let dogmatism  retire, and
blossom, flowers of fancy, on your yielding stems!




A MAY MORNING.                   33
Henceforward the reader is our confidential counsellor.
We will pretend that our means of information are no
better than other writers'.  We will uniformly revel in
speculation, and dally with imaginative delights; and
only when hard pressed for the true path will we
snatch off the veil, and let forth for a moment a redeeming ray.
In this generous mood, we pass through the partition between No. 27 and No. 29.  In the matter
of bedchambers -even hotel bedchambers - there can
be great diversity.  That we were in just now  was
close and unwholesome, and wore an air of feverishness and disorder.  Here, on the contrary, the air is
fresh and brisk, for the breeze from  Boston harbor -
slightly flavored, it is true, by its journey across the
northern part of the city — has been blowing into the
room all night long. Here are some trunks and carpetbags, well bepasted with the names of foreign towns
and countries, famous and infamous.  One of the
trunks is a bathing-tub, fitted with a cover, —an
agreeable promise of refreshment amidst the dust and
weariness of travel.  A  Russia-leather travelling-bag
lies open on the table, disgorging an abundant armament of brushes and combs and various toilet niceties.
Mr. Helwyse must be a dandy.
Cheek by jowl with the haversack lies a cylindrical
case of the same kind of leather, with a strap attached, to
2*                          c




34                   IDOLATRY.
sling over the shoulder. This, perhaps, contains a telescope. It would not be worth mentioning, save that
our prophetic vision sees it coming into use by and by.
lNot to analyze too closely, everything in this room
speaks of life, health, and movement.  In spite of
smallness, bareness, and angularity, it is fit for a May
morning to enter, and expand to full-grown day.
It is now about half past four, and the crisp new
sunshine, just above ground, has clambered over the
window-sill, taken a flying leap across the narrow floor,
and is chuckling full in the agreeable face asleep upon
the pillow.  The face, feeling the warmth, and conscious, through its closed eyelids, of the light, presently stretches its eyebrows, then blinks, and finally
yawns, - Ah-h! Thirty-two even, white teeth, in
perfect order; a great, red, healthy tongue, and a
round, mellow roar, the parting remonstrance of the
sleepy god, taking flight for the day.  Thereupon a
voice, fetched from some profounder source than the
back of the head,"Steward! bring me my-    Oh I A  land-lubber
again, am I!"
Mr. Balder Helwyse now sits up in bed, his hair
and beard,-which are extraordinarily luxuriant, and
will be treated at greater length hereafter,  his hair
and beard in the wildest confusion.  He stares about
him with a pair of well-opened dark eyes, which con



A MAY MORNING.                 35
trast strangely with his fair Northern complexion.
Next comes a spasmodic stretching of arms and legs,
a whisking of bedclothes, and a solid thump of two
feet upon the floor. Another survey of the room,
ending with a deep breathing in of the fresh air and
an appreciative smack of the lips.
"0 nose, eyes, ears, and all my other godlike senses
and faculties! what a sensation is this of Mother
Earth at sunrise!  Better, seems to me, than ocean,
beloved of my Scandinavian forefathers. Hear those
birds! look at those divine trees, and the tall moist
grass round them! By my head! living is a glorious
business!- What, ho! slave, empty me here that
bath-tub, and then ring the bell."
The slave —a handsome, handy fellow, unusually
docile, inseparable from  his master, whose life-long
bondsman he was, and so much like him  in many
ways (owing, perhaps, to the intimacy always subsisting between the two), that he had more than once
been confounded with him, — this obedient menial -
No! not even for a moment will we mislead our
reader. Are we not sworn confidants? What is he
to think, then, of this abrupt introduction, unheralded,
unexplained? Be it at once confessed that Mr. Helwyse
travelled unattended, that there was no slave or other
person of any kind in the room, and that this highsounding order of his was a mere ebullition of his
peculiar humor.




36                  IDOLATRY.
He was a philosopher, and was in the habit of making
many of his tenets minister to his amusement, when in
his more sportive and genial moods. Not to exhaust
his characteristics too early in the story, it need only
be observed here that he held body and soul distinct,
and so far antagonistic that one or the other must be
master; furthermore, that the soul's supremacy was the
more desirable. Whether it were also invariable and
uncontested, there will be opportunity to find out later.
Meantime, this dual condition was productive of not a
little harmless entertainment to Mr. Helwyse, at times
when persons less happily organized would become
victims of ennui. Be the conditions what they might,
he was never without a companion, whose ways he
knew, and whom lie was yet never weary of questioning and studying. 1No subject so dull that its different
aspects, as viewed from soul and from body, would not
give it piquancy. No question so trivial that its discussion on material and on spiritual grounds would not
lend it importance. Nor was any enjoyment so keen
as not to be enhanced by the contrast of its physical
with its psychical phase.
Waking up, therefore, on this May morning, and
being in a charming humor, he chose to look upon
himself as the proprietor of a body-servant, and to give
his orders with patrician imperiousness. The obedient
menial, then, - to resume the thread, - sprang upon




A MAY MORNING.                   37
the tub-trunk, whipped off the lid, and discharged the
contents upon the bed in a twinkling.  This done, he
stepped to the bell-rope, and lent it a vigorous jerk,
soon answered by a brisk tapping at the door.
"Please, sir, did you ring?"
"Indeed I did, my dear.  Are you the pretty chanbermaid?"
This bold venture is met by silence, only modified by
a low delighted giggle.  Presently, — " Did you want
anything, sir, please?"
" Ever so many things, my girl; more than my life
is long enough to tell! First, though, I want to apologize for addressing you from behind a closed door; but
circumstances which I can neither explain nor overcome forbid my opening it.  Next, two pails of the
best cold water at your earliest convenience. Hurry,
now, there's a Iebe!"
"Very good, sir," giggles Hebe, retreating down the
passage.
It is to be supposed that it was the plebeian bodyservant that carried on this unideal conversation, and
that the patrician soul had nothing to do with it. The
ability to lay the burden of lapses from good taste, and
other goods, upon the shoulders of the flesh, is sometimes convenient and comforting.
Balder Helwyse, master and man, turns away from
the door, and catches sight of a white-robed, hairy



38                   IDOLATRY.
headed reflection in the looking-glass, the phantom face
of which at once expands in a genial expression of
mirth; an impalpable arm  is outstretched, and the
mouth seems thus to speak: -
"Stick to your bath, my good fellow, and the evil
things of this life shall not get hold of you. Water
is like truth, - purifying, transparent; a tonic to those
fouled and wearied with the dust and vanity of this
transitional phenomenon called the world.  Patronize
it! be thy acquaintance with it constant and familiar!
Remember, my dear Balder, that this slave of thine is
the medium through which something better than he
(thyself, namely) is filtered to the world, and the world
to thee.  Go to, then! if the filter be foul, shall not
that which is filtered become unclean also?"
Here the rhetorical phantom was interrupted by the
sound of a very good violin, touched with unusual
skill, in the next room. The phantom vanished, but
Mr. Helwyse seated himself softly upon the bed, listening with full enjoyment to every note; his very
toes seeming to partake of his appreciation. Music is
the mysterious power which makes body and soulmaster and man —thrill as one string.  The musician
played several bars, beautiful in themselves, but unconnected; and ever and anon there sounded a discordant note, like a smirch upon a fair picture.  The
execution, however, showed a master hand, and the




A MAY MORNING.                  39
themes betrayed the soul of a true musician, albeit
tainted with some subtile deformity.
"Heard  him  last night, and fell asleep, dreaming
of a man with the brain of a devil and an angel's
heart. Drop in on him presently, and have him down
to breakfast. If young, shall be our brother, - so long
as there's anything in him.  If- as I partly suspect
-old, and a father, marry his daughter.  But no;
such a fiddler as he can't be married, unless unhappily."  Mr. Helwyse runs his hands dreamily through
his tangled mane, and shakes it back. If philosophical, he seems also to be romantic and imaginative,
and impressionable by other personalities.  It is, to
be sure, unfair to judge a man from such unconsidered
words as he may let fall during the first half-hour
after waking up in the morning; were it otherwise, we
should infer that, although he might take a genuine
interest in whomever he meets, it would be too analytical to last long, except where the vein was a very
rich one.  He would pick the kernel out of the nut,
but, that done, would feel no sentimental interest in
the shell. Too much of this! and yet who can help
drawing conclusions (and not always incorrectly) from
the first sight, and sound of a new acquaintance?
There is a knock at the door, and Mr. Helwyse calls
out, " Hullo?  Ah! the cold water, emblem  of truth.
Thank you, Hebe; and scamper away as fast as you
can, for I'm going to open the door!"




40                    IDOLATRY.
We also will retire, fastidious reader, and employ the
leisure interval in packing an imaginary carpet-bag for
a short journey.  Our main business, during the next
few days, is with Mr. Helwyse, and since there will be
no telling what becomes of him  after that, he must be
followed up pretty closely. A few days does not seem
much for the getting a satisfactory knowledge of a
man; nevertheless, an hour, rightly used, may be ample.
If he will continue his habit of thinking aloud, will
affect situations tending to bring out his leading traits
of character; if we may intrude upon him, note-book
in hand, in all his moods and crises, - with all this
in addition to discretionary use of the magic mirror,
— it will be our own fault if Mr. Helwyse be not
turned inside out.  Properly speaking, there is no
mystery about men, but only a great dulness and
lethargy in our perceptions of them.  The secret of
the universe is no more a secret than is the answer
to a school-boy's problem. A mathematician will draw
you a triangle and a circle, and show you the trigonometrical science latent therein.  But a profounder
mathematician would do as much with the equation
man!
While Mr. Helwyse is still lingering over his toilet,
his neighbor the fiddler, whom  he had meant to ask
to breakfast, comes out of his room, violin-box in hand,
walks along the passage-way, and is off down stairs.




A MAY MORNING.                   41
An odd-looking figure; those stylish clothes become
him  as little as they would a long-limbed, angular
Egyptian statue.  Fashion, in some men, is an eccentricity, or rather a violence done to their essential
selves.  A  born fop would have looked as little at
home in a toga and sandals, as did this swarthy musician, doctor, priest, or whatever he was, in his fashionplate costume.  Then why did he wear it?
There are other things to be followed up before
attending to that question.  But the man is gone, and
Balder Helwyse has missed this opportunity of making
his acquaintance.  Had he been an hour earlier, - had
any one of us, for that matter, ever been an hour earlier or later, - who can tell how the destinies of the
world would be affected!  Luckily for our peace of
mind, the hypothesis involves an impossibility.




IV.
A BRAHMAN.
NWIfHOEVER has been in Boston remembers, or
has seen, the old Beacon Hill Bank, which
stood, not on Beacon Hill, indeed, but in that part of
School Street now occupied by the City Hall. You
passed down by the dirty old church, on the northeast
corner of School and Tremont Streets, which stands
trying to hide its ugly face behind a row of columns
like sooty fingers, and whose School-Street side is quite
bare, and has the distracted aspect peculiar to buildings erected on an inclined plane; - passing this, you
came in sight of the bank, a darksome, respectable
edifice of brick, two stories and a half high, and gambrel-roofed. It stood a little back from the street,
much as an  antiquated  aristocrat might withdraw
from  the stream  of modern life, and fancy himself
exclusive.  The poor old bank! Its respectable brick
walls have contributed a few rubbish-heaps to the new
land in the Back Bay, perhaps; and its floors and
gambrel-roof have long since vanished up somebody's
chimney; only its money -its baser part -still sur



A BRAHMAN.                   43
vives and circulates. Aristocracy and exclusivism do
not pay.
The bank, perhaps, took its title from the fact that
it owed its chief support to the Beacon Hill families,Boston's aristocracy; and Boston's standard names appeared upon its list of managers. If business led you
that way, you mounted the well-worn steps, and entered the rather strict and formal door, over which
clung the weather-worn sign,-faded gold lettering
upon a rusty black background.  Nothing that met
your eyes looked new, although everything was scrupulously neat.  Opposite the doorway, a wooden flight
of stairs mounted to the next floor, where were the
offices of some old Puritan lawyers. Leaving the stairs
on your left, you passed down a dusky passage, and
through a glass door, when behold! the banking-room,
with its four grave bald-headed clerks. But you did
not come to draw or deposit, your business was with
the President.  "Mr. MacGentle in?"  "That way,
sir."  You opened a door with "Private" painted in
black letters upon its ground-glass panel. Another
bald-headed  gentleman, with a grim  determination
about the mouth, rose up from his table and barred
your way. This was Mr. Dyke, the breakwater against
which the waves of would-be intruders into the inner
seclusion often broke themselves in vain; and unless
you had a genuine pass, your expedition ended there.




44                   IDOLATRY.
Our pass - for we, too, are to call on Mr. MacGentle
— would carry us through solider obstructions than
Mr. Dyke; it is the pass of imagination.  He does
not even raise his head as we brush by him.
But, first, let us inquire who Mr. MacGentle is,
besides President of the Beacon Hill Bank.  IIe is
a man of refinement and cultivation, a scholar and a
reader, has travelled, and, it is said, could handle a
pen to better purpose than the signing bank-notes.
In his earlier years he studied law, and gained a certain degree of distinction in the profession, although
(owing, perhaps, to his having entered it with too ideal
and high-strung views as to its nature and scope) he
never met with what is vulgarly called success. Fortunately for the ideal barrister, an ample private estate
made him independent of professional earnings.  Later
in life, he trod the confines of politics, still, however,
enveloping himself in that theoretical, unpractical atmosphere which was his most marked, and, to some
people, least comprehensible characteristic. A certain
mild halo of statesmanship ever after invested him;
not that he had at any time actually borne a share
in the government of the nation, but it was understood that he might have done so, had he so chosen,
or had his political principles been tough and elastic
enough to endure the, wear and strain of action. As
it was, some of the most renowned men in the Senate




A BRAHMAN.                  45
were known to have been his intimates at college, and
he still met and conversed with them on terms of
equality.
Between law, literature, and statesmanship, in all
of which pursuits he had acquired respect and goodwill, without actually accomplishing anything, Mr.
MacGentle fell, no one knew  exactly how, into the
presidential chair of the Beacon Hill Bank. As soon
as he was there, everybody saw that there he belonged.
His social position, his culture, his honorable, albeit
intangible record, suited the old bank well. He had
an air of subdued wisdom, and people were fond of
appealing to his judgment and asking his advice, —
perhaps because he never seemed to expect them  to
follow it when given (as, indeed, they never did). The
Board of Directors looked up to him, deferred to him,
nay, believed him to be as necessary to the bank's
existence as the entire aggregate of its supporters; but
neither the Board nor the  President himself ever
dreamed of adopting Mr. MacGentle's financial theories in the conduct of the banking business.
Let no one hastily infer that the accomplished gentleman of whom we speak was in any sense a sham.
No one could be more true to himself and his professions.  But-if we may hazard a conjecture —he
never breathed the air that other men breathe; another sun than ours shone for him; the world that




46                    IDOLATRY.
met his senses was not our world.  His life, in short,
was not human life, yet so closely like it that the
two might be said to correspond, as a face to its
reflection in the mirror; actual contact being in both
cases impossible.  No doubt the world and he knew
of the barrier between them, though neither said so.
The former, with its usual happy temperament, was
little affected by the separation, smiled good-naturedly
upon the latter, and never troubled itself about the
difficulties in the way of shaking hands.  But Mr.
MacGentle, being only a single  man, perhaps felt
lonely and sad.  Either he was a ghost, or the world
was.  In youth, he may have believed himself to be
the only real flesh and blood; but in later years, the
terrible weight of the world's majority forced him to
the opposite conclusion. And here, at last, he and the
world were at one!
Suppose, instead of listening to a personal description of this good old gentleman, we take a look at him
with our own eyes.  There is no danger of disturbing
him, no matter how  busy he may be.  The inner
retreat is very small, and as neat as though an old
maid lived in it. The furniture looks as good as new,
but is subdued to a tone of sober maturity, and chimes
in so well with the general effect that one scarcely
notices it.  The polished table is mounted in dark
morocco; behind the horsehair-covered arm-chair is a




A BRAHMAN.                   47
gray marble mantel-piece, overshadowing an  n open grate
with polished bars and fire-utensils in the English
style.  During the winter months a lump of cannelcoal is always burning there;' but the flame, even on
the coldest days, is too much on its good behavior to
give out very decided heat.  Over the mantel-piece
hangs a crayon copy of Correggio's Reading Magdalen,  the only touch of sentiment in the whole room,
and that, perhaps, accidental.
The concrete nature of the President's surroundings
is at first perplexing, in view of our theory about his
character.  But it is evident that the world could
never provide him with furniture corresponding to the
texture of his mind; and hence he would instinctively
lay hold of that which was most commonplace and
non-committal.  If he could realize nothing outside
himself, he might at least remove whatever would distract him from inward contemplation. There is, however, one article in this little room which we must not
omit to notice.  It is a looking-glass; and it hangs,
of all places in the world, right over Mr. MacGentle's standing-desk, in the embrasure of the window.
As often as he looks up he beholds the reflection of his
cultured and sad-lined physiognomy, with a glimpse of
dusky wall beyond.  Is he a vain man? His worst
enemy, had he one, would not call him  that.  Nevertheless, Mr. MacGentle finds a pathetic comfort in this




48                     IDOLATRY.
small mirror. No one, not even he, could tell wherefore; but we fancy it to be like that an exile feels,
seeing a picture of his birthplace, or hearing a strain
of his native music.  The mirror shows him something
more real, to his sense, than is anything outside of it!
Well, there stands the old gentleman, writing at this
desk in the window.  All men, they say, bear more or
less resemblance to some  animal; Mr. MIacGentle,
rather tall and slender, with his slight stoop, and his
black broadcloth frock-coat buttoned closely about his
waist, brings to mind a cultivated, grandfatherly greyhound, upon his hind legs.  He has thick white hair,
with a gentle curl in it, growing all over his finely
moulded head.  He is close-shaven; his mouth and
nose are formed with great delicacy; his eyes, now
somewhat faded, yet show an occasional reminiscence
of youthful fire. The eyebrows are habitually lifted, 
a result, possibly, of the growing infirmity of Mr. MacGentle's vision; but it produces an expression of halfplaintive resignation, which is rendered pathetic by the
wrinkles across his forehead and the dejected lines
about- his delicate mouth.
He is dressed with faultless nicety and elegance,
though in a fashion now  out of date.  Perhaps, in
graceful recognition of the advance of age, he has
adhered to the style in vogue when age first began to
weigh upon his shoulders.  He gazes mildly out from




A BRAHMAN.                    49
the embrasure of an upright collar and tall stock;
below spreads a wide expanse of spotless shirt-front.
His trousers are always gray, except. in the heat of
summer, when they become snowy white.  They are
uniformly too long; yet he never dispenses with his
straps, nor with the gaiters that crown his gentlemanly
shoes.
Although not a stimulating companion, one loves
to be where Amos MacGentle is; to watch his quiet
movements, and listen to his meditative talk.  What
he says generally bears the stamp of thought and
intellectual capacity, and at first strikes the listener
as rare good sense; yet, if reconsidered afterwards, or
applied to the practical tests of life, his wisdom is apt
to fall mysteriously short.  Is Mr. MacGentle aware
of this curious fact?  There sometimes is a sadly
humorous curving of the lips and glimmering in the
eyes after he has uttered something especially profound, which almost warrants the suspicion. The lack
of accord between the old gentleman and the world
has become to him, at last, a dreary sort of jest.
But we might go on forever touching the elusive
chords of Mr. MacGentle's being; one cannot help
loving him, or, if he be not real enough to love, bestowing upon him such affection as is inspired by some
gentle symphony. Unfortunately, he figures but little
in the coming pages, and in no active part; such,
3                            D




50                  IDOLATRY.
indeed, were unsuited to him.  But it is pleasant to
pass through his retired little office on our way to
scenes less peaceful and subdued; and we would
gladly look forward to seeing himl once more, when the
heat of the day is over and the sun has gone down.




V.
A NEW MAN WITH AN. OLD FACE.
A   BOUT an hour before noon on this same twentyseventh of May, Mr. Dyke heard a voice in the
outer room. He had held his position in the house as
confidential clerk for nearly or quite twenty-five years,
was blessed with a good memory, and was fond of
saying that he never forgot a face or a voice. So, as
this voice from  the outer room reached his ears, he
turned one eye up towards the door and muttered,
"Heard that before, somewhere!"
The ground-glass panel darkened, and the door was
thrown wide open.  Upon the threshold stood a young
man about six feet in height, of figure rather graceful
and  harmonious than massive.  A  black velveteen
jacket fitted closely to his shape; he had on a Tyrolese hat; his boots, of thin, pliant leather, reached
above the knee.  He carried a stout cane, with a
handle. of chamois-horn; to a couple of straps, crossing each shoulder, were attached a travelling-scrip and
a telescope-case.
But neither his attire nor the unusual size and dark




52                   IDOLATRY.
brilliancy of his eyes was so noticeable as his hair and
beard, which outgrew the bounds of common experience.  Beards, to be sure, were far more rare twenty
years ago than they have since become.  The hair was
yellow, with the true hyacinthine curl pervading it.
Rejoicing in luxuriant might, it clothed and reclothed
the head, and, descending lower, tumbled itself in bold
masses on the young man's shoulders.  As for the
beard, it was well in keeping.  Of a purer yellow
than the hair, it twisted down in crisp, vigorous waves
below the point marked by mankind's third shirt-stud.
It was full half as broad as it was long, and lay to the
right and left from the centre-line of the face. The
owner of this oriflamme looked like a young Scandinavian god.
There seems to be a deeper significance in hair than
meets the eye. Sons of Esau, whose beards grow high
up on their cheek-bones, who are hairy down to their
ankles, and to the second joints of their fingers, are
generally men of a kindly and charitable nature, strong
in what we call the human element.  One remembers
their stout hand-grip; they look frankly in one's face,
and the heart is apt to go out to them  more spontaneously than to the smooth-faced Jacobs. Such a man
was Samson, whose hair was his strength, - the
strength of inborn truth and goodness, whereby he
was enabled to smite the lying Philistines.  And al



A NEW MAN WITH AN OLD FACE.           53
though they once, by their sophistries, managed to get
the better of him for a while, they forgot that good
inborn is too vigorous a matter for any mere razor
finally to subdue. See, again, what a great beard Saint
Paul had, and what an outspoken, vigorous heart!
Was it from freak that Greeks and Easterns reverenced
beards as symbols of manhood, dignity, and wisdom?
or that Christian Fathers thundered against the barber,
as a violator of divine law?  No one, surely, could
accuse that handy, oily, easy little personage of evil
intent; but he symbolized the subtile principle which
pares away the natural virtue of man, and substitutes
an artificial polish, which is hypocrisy. It is to be
observed, however, that hair can be representative of
natural evil as well as of good. A tangle-headed bushranger does not win our sympathies. A Mussulman
keeps his beard religiously clean.
Meanwhile the yellow-haired Scandinavian, whom
we have already laid under the imputation of being a
dandy, stood on the threshold of Mr. Dyke's office, and
that gentleman confronted him with a singularly inquisitive stare. The visitor's face was a striking one,
but can be described, for the present, only in general
terms. He might not be called handsome; yet a very
handsome man would be apt to appear insignificant
beside him.  His features showed strength, and were
at the same time cleanly and finely cut. There was




54                   IDOLATRY.
freedom in the arch of his eyebrows, and plenty of
eye-room beneath them.
He took off his hat to Mr. Dyke, and smiled at him
with artless superiority, insomuch that the elderly
clerk's sixty years were disconcerted, and the Cerberus
seemed to dwindle into the bumpkin!  This young
fellow, a good deal less than half Mr. )Dyke's age, was
yet a far older man of the world than he. Not that
his appearance suggested the kind of maturity which
results from abnormal or distorted development, -on
the contrary, he was thoroughly genial and healthful.
But that power and assurance of eye and lip, generally
bought only at the price of many years' buffetings,
given and taken, were here married to the first flush
and -vigor of young manhood.
"My name is Heliwyse; I have come from Europe
to see Mr. Amos MacGentle," said the visitor, courteously.
"Helwyse!- Hel  " repeated Mr. Dyke, having
seemingly quite forgotten himself.  His customary
manner to strangers implied that he knew, better than
they did, who they were and what they wanted; and
that what he knew was not much to their credit.  But
he could only open his mouth and stare at this Helwyse.
"Mr. MacGentle is an old friend; run in and tell
him I'm here, and you will see."  The young man put




A NEW MAN WITH AN OLD FACE.           55
his hand kindly on the elderly clerk's shoulder, much
as though the latter were a gaping school-boy, and
directed him gently towards the inner door.
Mr. Dyke regained his voice by an effort, though
still lacking complete self-command. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Helwyse, sir,    of course, of course,  it
didn't seem possible, - so long, you know, - but I
remembered the voice and the face and the name,- I
never forget, — but, by George, sir, can you really
be-? "
"I see you have a good memory; you are Dyke,
are n't you? " And Mr. Helwyse threw back his head
and laughed, perhaps at the clerk's bewildered face.
At all events, the latter laughed, too, and they both
shook hands very heartily.
"Beg pardon again, Mr. Helwyse, I'11 speak to the
President," said Mr. Dyke, and stepped into the sanctuary of sanctuaries.
Mr. MacGentle was taking a nap. He was seventy
years old, and could drop asleep easily. When he
slept, however lightly and briefly, he was pretty
sure to dream; and if awakened suddenly, his dream
would often prolong itself, and mingle with passing
events, which would themselves put on the semblance
of unreality.  On the present occasion the sound of
Helwyse's voice had probably crept through the door,
and insinuated itself into his dreaming brain.




56                   IDOLATRY.
Mr. Dyke was too much excited to remark the President's condition. He put his mouth close to the old
gentleman's ear, and said, in an emphatic and penetrating undertone, -
" Here's your old friend Helwyse, who died in Europe
two years ago, come back again, younger than ever  "
If the confidential clerk expected his superior to
echo his own bewilderment, he was disappointed. Mr.
MacGentle unclosed his eyes, looked up, and answered
rather pettishly, 
"What nonsense are you talking about his dying in
Europe, Mr. Dyke? He has n't been in Europe for six
years. I was expecting him. Let him come in at once."
But he was already there; and Mr. Dyke slipped
out again with consternation written upon his features.
Mr. MacGentle found himself with his thin old hand
in the young man's warm grasp.
" Helwyse, how do you do? - how do you do? Ah!
you look as well as ever. I was just thinking about
you. Sit down, - sit down!"
The old President's voice had a strain of melancholy
in it, partly the result of chronic asthma, and partly,
no doubt, of a melancholic temperament. This strain,
being constant, sometimes had a curiously incongruous
effect as contrasted with the subject or circumstances
in hand. Whether hailing the dawn of the millennium,
holding playful converse with a child, making a speech




A NEW MAN WITH AN OLD FACE.           57
before the Board, — uncer whatever rhetorical conditions, Mlr. MacGentle's intonation was always pitched
in the same murmurous and somewhat plaintive key.
Moreover, a corresponding immobility of facial expression had grown upon him; so that altogether, though
he was the most sympathetic and sensitive of men, a
superficial observer might take him to be lacking in
the common feelings and impulses of humanity.
Perhaps the incongruity alluded to had not altogether escaped his own notice, and since discord of any
kind pained him, he had. mended the matter - as best
he could -by surrendering himself entirely to his
mournful voice; allowing it to master his gestures,
choice of language, almost his thoughts. The result
was a colorlessness of manner which did great injustice
to the gentle and delicate soul behind.
This conjecture might explain why Mr. MacGentle,
instead of falling upon his friend's neck and shedding
tears of welcome there, only uttered a few commonplace sentences, and then drooped back into his chair.
But it throws no light upon his remark that he had
been expecting the arrival of a friend who, it would
appear, had been dead two years. Helwyse himself
may have been puzzled by this; or, being a quickwitted young man, he may have divined its explanation.  He looked at his entertainer with critical sympathy not untinged with humor.
3*




58                    IDOLATRY.
"I hope you are as well as I am," said lie.
"A little tired this morning, I believe; I never was
so strong a man as you, telwyse. I think I must have
passed a bad night. I remember dreaming I was an
old man, — an old man with white hair, Helwyse."
"Were you glad to wake up again?" asked the young
man, meeting the elder's faded eyes.
" I hardly know whether I'm quite awake yet. And,
after all, Thor, I'mn not sure that I don't wish the
dream might have been true.  If I were really an old
man, what a long, lonely future I should escape! but
as it is-as it is-"
He relapsed into reverie. Ah! Mr. MIacGentle, are
you again the tall and graceful youth, full of romance
and fire, who roamed abroad in quest of adventures
with your trusty friend Thor Helwyse, the yellowbearded Scandinavian? Do you fancy this fresh, unwrinkled face a mate to your own? and is it but the
vision of a restless night, - this long-drawn life of dull
routine and gradual disappointment and decay? Open
those dim eyes of yours, good sir! stir those thin old
legs! inflate that sunken chest! — Ha! is that cough
imaginary? those trembling muscles, - are they a delusion? is that misty glance only a momentary weakness? There is no youth left in you, Mr. MacGentle;
not so much as would keep a rose in bloom  for an
hour.




A NEW MAN WITH AN OLD FACE.          59
"Have you seen Doctor Glyphic lately?" inquired
Helwyse, after a pause.
" Glyphic? - do you know, I was thinking of him
just now, - of our first meeting with him in the African desert. You remember! —a couple of Bedouins
were carrying him off, - they had captured him on his
way to some apocryphal ruin among the sand-heaps.
What a grand moment was that when you caught the
Sheik round the throat with your umbrella-handle, and
pulled him off his horse! and then we mounted poor
Glyphic upon it, -mummied cat and all, -and away
over the hot sand! What a day was that! what a day
was that! "
The speaker's eyes had kindled; for a moment one
saw the far flat desert, the struggling knot of men and
horses, the stampede of the three across the plain, and
the high sun flaming inextinguishable laughter over
all! - and it had happened nigh forty years ago.
" He never forgot that service," resumed Mr. MacGentle, his customary plaintive manner returning.
"To that, and to your saving the Egyptian lad, —
Manetho,- you owe your wife Helen: ah! forgive
me, - I had forgotten; she is dead, -she is dead."
"I never could understand," remarked  Helwyse,
aiming to lead the conversation away from  gloomy
topics, "why the Doctor made so much of Manetho."
"That was only a part of the Egyptian mania that




60                  IDOLATRY.
possessed him, and began, you know, with his changing
his name from  Henry to Hiero; and has gone on,
until now, I suppose, he actually believes himself to
be some old inscription, containing precious secrets,
not to be found elsewhere.  Before the adventure with
the boy, I remember, he had formed the idea of building a miniature Egypt in New Jersey; and Manetho
served  well as the living  human element in it.'Though I take him to America,' you know he said,'he shall live in Egypt still.  He shall have a temple,
and an altar, and Isis and Osiris, and papyri and palmtrees and a crocodile; and when he dies I will embalm
him  like a Pharaoh.''But suppose you die first?'
said one of us.'Then he shall embalm me!' cried
Hiero, and I will be the first American mummy."'
Mr. MacGentle seemed to find a dreamy enjoyment
in working this vein of reminiscence. He sat back in
his low arm-chair, his unsubstantial face turned meditatively towards the Magdalen, his hands brought
together to support his delicate chin. Helwyse, apprehending that the vein might at last bring the dreamer
down to the present day, encouraged him to follow it.
"It must have been a disappointment to the Doctor
that his protege took up the Christian religion, instead
of following the faith and observances of his Egyptian
ancestors, for the last five thousand years!"
"Why, perhaps it was, Thor, perhaps it was," mur



A NEW MAN WITH AN OLD FACE.             61
Imured Mr. MacGentle.  "But Manetho never entered
the pulpit, you know; it would not have been to his
interest to do so; besides that, I believe he is really
devoted to Glyphic, believing that it was he who saved
him from the crocodile. People are all the time nmaking such absurd mistakes.  Manetho is a man who
would be unalterable either in gratitude or enmity,
although his external manner is so mild.  And as to
his taking orders, why, as long as he wore an Egyptian
robe, and said his prayers in an Egyptian temple, it
would be all the same to Glyphic what religion the
man professed  "
"Doctor Glyphic is still alive, then?"
The old man looked at the young one with an air
half apprehensive, half perplexed, as if scenting the
far approach of some undefined difficulty. He passed
his white hand over his forehead.  " Everything seems
out of joint to-day, Helwyse.  Nothing looks or seems
natural, except you! VWhat is the matter with me? 
what is the matter with me?"
Helwyse sat with both hands twisted in his mighty
beard, and one booted leg thrown over the other.  He
was full of sympathy at the spectacle of poor Amos
MaacGentle, blindly groping after the phantom of a
flower whose bloom  and fragrance had vanished so
terribly long ago; and yet, for some reason or other,
he could hardly forbear a smile.  When anything is




62                     IDOLATRY.
utterly out of place, it is no more pathetic than absurd;
moreover, young men are always secretly inclined to
laugh at old ones!
" Why should not Glyphic be alive? " resumed Mr.
MacGentle.  " Why not he, as well as you or I?
Are n't we all about of an age? "
Helwyse drew his chair close to his companion's,
and took his hand, as if it had been a young girl's.
"My dear friend," said he, "you said you felt tired this
morning, but you forget how far you've travelled since
we last met.  Doctor Glyphic, if he be living now,
must be more than sixty years old.  Your dream of
old age was such as many have dreamed before, and
not awakened from  in this worldc!"
"Let me think! - let me think!" said the old man;
and, Helwyse drawing back, there ensued a silence,
varied only by a long and tremulous sigh from  his
companion; whether of relief or dejection, the visitor
could not decide.  But when Mr. MacGentle spoke, it
was with more assurance. Either from mortification at
his illusion, or more probably from imperfect perception of it, he made no reference to what had passed.
Old age possesses a kind of composure, arising from
dulled  sensibilities, which  the  most self-possessed
youth can never rival.
" We heard, through the London branch  of our
house, that Thor Helwyse died some two years ago."




A NEW MAN WITH AN OLD FACE.            63
"He was drowned in the Baltic Sea. I am his son
Balder."
"He was my friend," observed the old man, simply;
but the tone he used was a magnet to attract the son's
heart.  "You look very much like him, only his eyes
were blue, and yours, as I now see, are dark; but you
might be mistaken for him."
"I sometimes have been," rejoined Balder, with a
half-smile.
"And you are his son! You are most welcome!"
said  Mr. MacGentle, with  old-fashioned  courtesy.
"Forgive me if I have - if anything has occurred to
annoy you. I am a very old man, Mr. Balder; so old
that sometimes I believe I forget how old I am! And
Thor is dead, - drowned, - you say?"
" The Baltic, you know, has been the grave of many
of our forefathers; I think my father was glad to follow them.  I never saw him in better spirits than during that gale. We were bound to England from Denmark."
"Helen's death saddened him,  I know, -I know;
he was never gay after that. But how - how did?"
"He would keep the deck, though the helmsman
had to be lashed to the wheel. I think he never cared
to see land again, but he was full of spirits and life.
He said this was weather fit for a Viking.
" We were standing by the foremast, holding on by a




64                    IDOLATRY.
belaying-pin.  The sea came over- the side, and struck
him  overboard.  I went after him. Another wave
brought me back; but not my father! I was knocked
senseless, and when I came to, it was too late."
Helwyse's voice, towards the end of this story, became husky, and Mr. MacGentle's eyes, as he listened,
grew dimmer than ever.
"Ah!" said he, "I shall not die so. I shall die
away gradually, like a breeze that has been blowing
this way and that all day, and falls at sunset, no one
knows how. Thor died as became him; and I shall
die as becomes me, — as becomes me!"  And so, indeed, he did, a few years later; but not unknown nor
uncared for.
Balder Helwyse was a philosopher, no doubt; but it
was no part of his wisdom  to be indifferent to unstrained sympathy.  He went on to speak further of
his own concerns,- a thing he was little used to do.
It appeared that, from the time he first crossed the
Atlantic, being then about four years old, up to the time
he had recrossed it, a few weeks ago, he had been journeying to and fro over the Eastern Hemisphere.  His
father, who, as well as himself, was American by birth,
was the descendant of a Danish family of high station
and antiquity, and inherited the restless spirit of his
ancestors.  In the course of his early wanderings he
had fallen in with MacGentle, who, though somewhat




A NEW MAN WITH AN OLD FACE.           65
older than Helwyse, was still a young man; and later
these two had encountered Hiero Glyphic. About fifteen years after this it was that Thor appeared at
Glyphic's house in New Jersey, and was welcomed by
that singular man as a brother; and here he fell in
love with Glyphic's sister Helen, and married her.
With her he received a large fortune, which the addition of his own made great; and at Glyphic's death,
Thor or his heirs would inherit the bulk of the estate
left by him.
So Thor, being then in the first prime. of life, was
prepared to settle down and become domestic. But
the sudden death of his wife, and the subsequent loss
of one of the children she had borne him, drove him
once more abroad, with his baby son, never again to
take root, or to return. And here Balder's story, as
told by him, began.  He seemed to have matured
very early, and to have taken hold of knowledge in all
its branches like a Titan.  The precise age at which he
had learned all that European schools could teach him,
it is not necessary to specify; since it is rather with
the nature of his mind than with the list of his accomplishments that we shall have to do. It might be
possible, by tracing his connection with French, or
German, or English  philosophers, to make shrewd
guesses at the qualities of his own creed; but these
will perhaps reveal themselves less diffidently under
other tests.




66                  IDOLATRY.
The last four or five years of his life Balder had
spent in acquiring such culture as schools could not
give him. Where he went, what he did and saw, we
shall not exercise our power categorically to reveal;
remarking only that his means and his social rank left
him free to go as high as well as low as he pleased, 
to dine with English dukes or with Russian serfs. But
a fine chastity inherent in his Northern blood had,
whatever were his moral convictions, kept him from
the mire; and the sudden death of his father had given
him  a graver turn than was normal to his years.
Meanwhile, the financial crash, which at this time so
largely affected Europe, swallowed up the greater part
of Balder's fortune; and with the remnant (about a
thousand pounds sterling), and a potential independence (in the shape of a learned profession) in his
head, he sailed for Boston.
"I knew you were my uncle Hiero's bankers," he
added, " and I supposed you would be able to tell me
about him. He is my only living relative."
"Why, as to that, I believe it is a long time since
the house has had anything to do with his concerns,"
returned the venerable President, abstractedly gazing
at Balder's high boots; "but I'11 ask Mr. Dyke. He
remembers everything."
That gentleman (who had not passed an easy moment since Mr. Helwyse's arrival) was now called in,




A NEW MAN WITH AN OLD FACE.            67
and his suspense regarding the mysterious visitor soon
relieved.  In respect to Doctor Glyphic's affair he was
ready and explicit.
"No dollar of his money has been through our
hands since winter of Eighteen thirty-five -  six, Mr.
-elwyse, sir, — winter following your and your respected father's departure for foreign parts;" stated Mr.
Dyke, straightening his mouth, and planting his fist on
his hip.
"Hm — hm!" murmured the President, standing
thin and bent before the empty fireplace, a coat-tail
over each arm.
" You have heard nothing of him since then?"
"Nothing, Mr. Ielwyse, sir! Reverend Manetho
Glyphic - understood to be the Doctor's adopted son
came here and effected the transfer, under authority,
of course, of his foster-father's signature. Where the
property is at this moment, how invested, with what
returns, neither the President nor I can inform you,
sir."
"Hm — hm!" remarked Mr. MacGentle again.  It
was a favorite comment of his upon business topics.
"It is possible I may be a very wealthy man," said
Balder, when Mr. Dyke had made his resolute bow and
withdrawn. "But I hope my uncle is alive. It would
be a loss not to have known so eccentric a man.  I
have a miniature of him which I have often studied,




68                   IDOLATRY.
so that I shall know him when we meet.  Can he be
married, do you think?"
"Why no, Balder; no, I should hardly think so,"
answered Mr. MacGentle, who, at the departure of
his confidential clerk, had relapsed into his unofficial
position and manner.  "By the way, do you contemplate that step?"
"It is said to be an impediment to great enterprises. I could learn little by domestic life that I
could not learn better otherwise."
"Hm, —we could  not do without woman, you
know."
" If I could marry Woman, I would do it," said the
young man, unblushingly.  "But a single crumb from
that great loaf would be of no use to me."
"Ah, you have n't learned to appreciate women!
You never knew. your mother, Balder; and your sister
was lost before she was old enough to be anything
to you. By the way, I have always cherished a hope
that she might yet be found.  Perhaps she may,perhaps she may."
Balder looked perplexed, till, thinking the old gentleman might be referring to a reunion in a future
state, he said,"You believe that people recognize one another in
the next world, Mr. MacGentle?"
"Perhaps, — perhaps; but why not here as well?"




A NEW MAN WITH AN OLD FACE.            69
murmured the other, in reply; and Balder, suspecting
a return of absent-mindedness, yielded the point.  He
had grown up in the belief that his twin-sister had
died in her infancy; but his venerable friend appeared
to be under a different impression.
"I shall go to New York, and try to find my uncle,
or some trace of him," said he. "If I'm unsuccessful,
I mean to come back here, and settle as a physician."
"What is your specialty?"
"I'mn an eye-doctor. The Boston people are not
all clear-eyed, I hope."
"Not all, -I should say not all; perhaps you may
be able to help me, to begin with," said Mr. MacGentle,
with a gleam of melancholy humor.  "I will ask Mr.
Dyke about the chances for a practice; he knows
everything. And, Balder," he added, when the young
man rose to go, "let me hear from you, and see you
again sometimes, whatever may happen to you in the
way of fortune.  I'm rather a lonely old man,- a
lonely old man, Balder.'
"I'11 be here again very soon, - unless I get married, or commit a murder or some such enormity,"
rejoined Helwyse, his long mustache curving to his
smile. They shook hands, -the vigorous young god
of the sun and the faded old wraith of Brahmanism, -
with a friendly look into each other's eyes.




VI.
THE VAGARIES OF HELWYSE.
ALDER HELWYSE was a man full of natural
and healthy instincts: he was not afraid to laugh
uproariously when so inclined; nor apt to counterfeit
so much as a smile, only because a smile would look
well. What showed a rarer audacity,  he had more
than once dared to weep! To crush down real emotions formed, in short, no part of his ideal of a man.
Not belonging to the Little-pot-soon-hot family, he had,
perhaps, never found occasion to go beyond the control
of his temper, and blind rage he would in no wise
allow himself; but he delighted in antagonisms, and
though it came not within his rules to hate any man,
he was inclined to cultivate an enemy, as more likely
to be instructive than some friends. His love of actual
battle was intense: he had punched heads with many
a hard-fisted school-boy in England; he bore the scar
of a German schldger high up on his forehead; and
later, in Paris, he had deliberately invaded the susceptibilities of a French journalist, had followed him
to the field of honor, and been there run through the




THE VAGARIES OF HELWYSE.             71
body with a small-sword, to the satisfaction of both
parties.  He was confined to his bed for a while; but
his overflowing spirits healed the wound, to the admiration of his doctors.
These examples of self-indulgence have been touched
upon only by way of preparing the gentle reader for a
shock yet more serious.  Helwyse was a disciple of
Brillat-Savarin, - in one word, a gourmand! His appetite never failed him, and he knew how wisely to
direct it. He never ate a careless or thoughtless meal,
be its elements simple as they might.  He knew and
was loved by the foremost cooks all over Europe.
Never did he allow coarseness or intemperance to mar
the refinement of his palate.
"Man," he was accustomed to say, "is but a stomach, and the cook is the pope of stomachs, in whose
church are no respectable heretics. Our happiness lies
in his saucepan,- at the mercy of his spit! Eating
is the appropriation to our needs of the good and truth
of life, as existing in material manifestation; the cook
is the high-priest of that symbolic ceremony! I, and
kings with me, bow before him! But his is a responsibility beneath which Atlas might stagger; he, of all
men, must be honest, warm-hearted, quick of sympathy, full of compassion towards his race. Let him
rejoice, for the world extols him for its well-being;- 
yet tremble! lest upon his head fall the curse of its
misery!"




72                   IDOLATRY.
This speech was always received with applause; the
peroration being delivered with a vast controlled emphasis of eye and voice; and it was followed by the
drinking of the cook's health. "The generous virtues,"
Mr. Helwyse would then go on to say, "arise from the
cultivation of the stomach. From man's very earthliness springs the flower of his spiritual virtue. We
affect to despise the flesh, as vile and unworthy. What,
then, is flesh made of? of nothing?-let who can,
prove that! No, it is made of spirit, - of the divine,
everlasting  substance; it is the wall which  holds
Heaven in place! If there be anything vile in it, it
is of the Devil's infusion, and enters not into the argument."
A man who had expressed such views as these at
the most renowned tables of France and England was
not likely to forget his principles in the United States.
Accordingly, he arose early, as we have seen, on the
morning after his arrival, and forced an astonished
waiter to marshal him to the kitchen, and introduce
him  to the cook.  The cook of the Granite Hotel at
that time was a round, red-lipped Italian, an artist and
enthusiast, but whose temper had been much tried by
lack of appreciation; and, although his salary was good,
he contemplated  throwing.it over, abandoning the
Yankee nation to its fate, and seeking some more
congenial field.  Balder, who, when the mood was on




THE VAGARIES OF HELWYSE.            73
him, could wield a tongue persuasive as Richard the
Third's, talked to this man, and in seven minutes had
won his whole heart.  The immediate result was a,
delectable breakfast, but the sequel was a triumph
indeed. It seems that the aesthetic Italian had for
several days been watching over a brace of plump,
truffled partridges.  This day they had reached perfection, and were to have been eaten by no less a person
than the cook himself.  These cherished birds did he
now actually offer to make over to his eloquent and
sympathetic acquaintance. Balder was deeply moved,
and accepted the gift on one condition, - that the
donor should share the feast! " When a man serves
me up his own heart,-truffled, too,-he must help
me eat it," he said, with emotion. The condition imposed was, after faint resistance, agreed to; the other
episodes of the bill of fare were decided upon, and the
Italian and the Scandinavian were to dine together
that afternoon.
It still lacked something of the dinner-hour when
Mr. Helwyse came out through the dark passageway of the Beacon Hill Bank, and paused for a few
moments on the threshold, looking up and down the
street.  Against the dark  background  he made a
handsome picture, -tall, gallant, unique.  The May
sunshine, falling athwart the face of the gloomy old
building, was glad to light up the waves of his beard
4




74                   IDOLATRY.
and hair, and to east the shadow of his hat-brim over
his forehead and eyes. The picture stays just long
enough to fix itself in the memory, and then the
young man goes lightly down the worn steps, and is
lost along the crowded street. Such as he is now, we
shall not see him standing in that dark frame again!
Wherever he went, Balder Helwyse was sure to be
stared at; but to this he was admirably indifferent.
He never thought of speculating about what people
thought of Mr. Helwyse; but to his own approval —
something not lightly to be had - he was by no means
indifferent.  Towards mankind at large he showed a
kindly but irreverent charity, which excused imperfection, not so much from a divine principle of love as
from  scepticism  as to man's sufficient motive and
faculty to do well.  Of himself he was a blunt and
sarcastic critic, perhaps because he expected more of
himself than of the rest of the world, and fancied that
that person only had the ability to be his censor!
If the Christian reader regards this mental attitude
as unsound, far be it from us to defend it! It must,
nevertheless, be admitted that whoever feels the strong
stirring of power in his head and hands will learn its
limits from no purely subjective source. The lesson
must begin from without, and the only argument will
be a deadly struggle. Until then, self-esteem, however
veiled beneath self-criticism, cannot but increase. And




THE VAGARIES OF HELWYSE.            75
if the man has had wisdom  and strength to abstain
from vulgar self-pollution, Satan must intrust his spear
to no half-fledged devil, but grasp it in his own'hand,
and join battle in his own person.
Undismayed by this fact, Helwyse reached Washington Street, and followed its westerly meanderings,
meaning to spend part of the interval before dinner
in exploring Boston. He walked with an easy sideways-swaying of the shoulders, whisking his cane, and
smiling to himself as he recalled the points of his
interview with the President.
"Just the thing, to make MacGentle tutelary divinity of so elusive a matter as money! Wonder whether
the Directors ever thought of that? For all his unreality, though, he has something more real in him
than the heaviest Director on the Board!
"How composedly he took me for my father! and
when he discovered his mistake, how composedly he
welcomed me in my own person!  Was that the
extreme of senility? or was it a subtile assertion of the
fact, that he who keeps in the vanguard of the age
in a certain sense contains his father — the past —
within himself, and is a distinct person chiefly by virtue of that containing power?
"Why did n't I ask him  more about my fostercousin Manetho?  Egyptians are more astute than
affectionate. Would he cleave to my poor uncle for




76                   IDOLATRY.
these last eighteen years merely for love?  Why did
he transfer that money so soon after we sailed? Ten
to one, he has in his own hands the future as well as
the present disposal of Doctor Hiero Glyphic's fortune!
The old gentleman has had time to make a hundred
wills since the one he showed my father, twenty years
ago!
"Well, and what is that to you? Ah, Balder Helwyse, you lazy impostor, you are pining for Egyptian
flesh-pots! Don't tell me about civility to relatives,
and the study of human nature! You are as bad as
you accuse your poor cousin of being, - who may be
dead, or pastor of a small parish, for all you know.
And yet every school-girl can prattle of the educational
uses of poverty, and of having to make one's own living!
I have a good mind to take your thousand pounds
sterling out of your pocket and throw them into Charles
River, -and then begin at the beginning! By the
time I'd learnt what poverty can teach, it would be
over,- or I am no true man! Only they who are
ashamed of themselves, or afraid of other people, need
to start rich."
Nevertheless, he could not do otherwise than hunt
up the only relative he had in America. Subsequent
events did not convict him  of being a mere egotist,
swayed only by the current of base success.  He did
not despise prosperity, but he cared yet more to find out




THE VAGARIES OF HELWYSE.            77
truths about things and men. Thiss is not the story of
a fortune-hunter; not, at all events, of a hunter of such
fortunes as are made and lost nowadays. But, when
one half of a man detects unworthy motives in the
other half, it is embarrassing.  He acts most wisely,
perhaps, who drops discussion, and lets the balance of
good and bad, at the given moment, decide.  Our compound life makes many compromises, whereby our progress, whether heavenward or hellward, is made slow
and sure!
Here, or hereabouts, Balder lost his way.  When
thinking hard, he was beside himself; he strode, and
tossed his beard, and shouldered inoffensive people
aside, and drew  his eyebrows together, or smiled.
Then, by and by, he would awake to realities, and find
himself he knew not where.
This time, it was in an unsavory back-street; some
dirty children were playing in the gutters, and a tall,
rather flashily dressed man was walking along some
distance ahead, carrying something in one hand. Helwyse at first mended his pace to overtake the fellow,
and ask the way to the hotel.  But he presently
changed his purpose, his attention being drawn to the
oddity of the other's behavior.
The man was evidently one of those who live much
alone, and so contract unconscious habits, against
which society offers the only safeguard. He was ab



78                   IDOLATRY.
sorbed in some imaginary dialogue; and so imperfectly
could his fleshly veil conceal his mental processes,
that he gesticulated everything that passed through
his mind. These gestures, though perfectly apparent
to a steady observer, were so far kept within bounds
as not to get more than momentary notice from the
passers-by, who, indeed, found metal more attractive
to their gaze in Helwyse.
Now did the man draw his head back and spread
out his arms, as in surprise and repudiation; now his
shoulders rose high, in deprecation or disclaimer. Now
his forefinger cunningly sought the side of his nose;
now his fist shook in an imaginary face.  At times
he would stretch out a pleading arm and neck; the
next moment he was an inflexible tyrant, spurning a
suppliant.  Again he would break into a soundless
chuckle; then, raising his hand to his forehead, seem
overwhelmed with despair and anguish.  Occasionally
he would walk some distance quite passively, only
glancing furtively about him; but erelong he would
forget himself again, and the dialogue would begin
anew.
Balder watched the man  curiously, but without
seeming to perceive the rather grisly similitude between the latter's vagaries and his own.
"What an ugly thing the inside of this person
seems to be!" he said.  "But then, whose thoughts




THE VAGARIES OF HELWYSE.             79
and emotions would not render him a laughing-stock
if they could be seen?  If everybody looked, to his
fellow, as he really is, or even as he looks to himself, mankind would fly asunder, and think the stars'hiding-places not remote enough!  How many men
in the world could walk from one end of the street
they live in to the other, talking and acting their inmost thoughts all the way, and retain a bit of anybody's respect or love afterwards? No wonder Heaven
is pure, if our spiritual bodies are only thoughts and
feelings! and a Hell where every devil saw his fellow's deformity outwardly manifested would be Hell
indeed!
"But that can't be. Angels behold their own loveliness, because doing so makes them lovelier; but no
devil could know his own vileness and live.  They
think their hideousness charming, and, when the darkness is thickest about them, most firmly believe themselves in Heaven.  But the light of Heaven would
be real darkness to them, for a ray of it would strike
them blind!"
Helwyse was too prone to moralizing. It shall not
be our cue to quote him, save when to do so may seem
to serve an ulterior purpose.
"I would like to hear the story that fellow is so
exercised about," muttered his pursuer.  "How  do I
know  it doesn't concern me?  That violin-box he




80                   IDOLATRY.
carries is very much in his way; shall I offer to
carry it for him, and, in return, hear his story?  If
the music soothes his soul as much as the box moderates his gestures-"
Here the man abruptly turned into a doorway, and
was gone.  On coming up, Ilelwyse found that the
doorway led in through a pair of green folding-doors
to some place unseen.  The house had an air of villanous respectability,- a gambling-house air, or worse.
Did the musician live there?  Helwyse paused but
a moment, and then walked on; and thus, sagacious
reader, the meeting was for the second time put off.
WThen he reached his hotel, he had only half an
hour to dress for dinner in; but he prepared himself
faultlessly, chanting a sort of hymn to Appetite the
while. " Hunger," quoth he, "is mightiest of magicians;
breeds hope, energy, brains; prompts to love and
friendship. Hunger gives day and night their meaning, and makes the pulse of time beat; creates society,
industry, and rank.  Hunger moves man to join in the
work of creation,-to harmonize himself with the music
of the universe, —to feel ambition, joy, and sorrow.
Hunger unites man to nature in the ever-recurring
inspiration to food, followed by the ever-alternating
ecstasy of digestion.  Morning tunes his heart to joy,
for the benison of breakfast awaits him.  The sun
scales heaven  to light him  to  his noonday meal.




THE VAGARIES OF HELWYSE.            81
Evening wooes him  supperwards, and night brings
timeless sleep, to waft him to another dawn. Eating
is earth's first law, and heaven itself could not subsist without it! "
So Balder Helwyse and the cook feasted gloriously
that afternoon, in the back pantry, and they solemnly
installed the partridges among the constellations!
F




VII.
A QUARREL.
T HAT same afternoon  Mr. MacGentle put his
head into the outer office and said, "Mr. Dyke,
could I speak with you a moment?"
Mr. Dyke scraped back his chair and went in, with
his polished bald head, and square face and figure,
-a block of common-sense.  He was more commonsensible than usual, that afternoon, because he had
so strangely forgotten himself in the morning. Mr.
MacGentle was in his usual position for talking with
his confidential clerk,- standing up with his back to
the fireplace, and his coat-tails over his arms. Experience had taught him that this attitude was better
adapted than any other to sustain the crushing weight
of Mr. Dyke's sense. To have conversed with him in
a sitting position would have been to lose breath and
vitality before the end of five minutes.
"Mr. Helwyse has thoughts of settling in Boston
to practise his profession," began the President, gently.
"I told him you would be likely to know what the
chances are."




A QUARREL.                   83
"Profession is - what? " demanded Mr. Dyke, settling his fist on his hip.
"0 -doctor-physician; eye-doctor, he said, I
think."
"Eye-doctor? Well, Dr. Schlemm  won't last the
winter; may drop any day. Just the thing for Mr.
Ielwyse, -Dr. Helwyse."  And the subject, being
discussed at some length between the two gentlemen,
took on a promising aspect. His house was picked
out for the new  incumbent, his earnings calculated,
his success foretold. Two characters so diverse as were
the President and his clerk united, it seems, in liking
the young physician.
" Married?" asked Mr. Dyke, after a pause.
"Why, no, — no; and he does n't seem  inclined
to marry.  But he is quite young; perhaps he may,
later on in life, Mr. Dyke."
The elderly clerk straightened his mouth.  "Matter
of taste - and policy. Gives solidity, - position; -
and is an expense and a responsibility." Mr. Dyke
himself was well known to be the husband of an
idolized wife, and the father of a despotic family.
" He never had the advantage of woman's influence
in his childhood, you know.  His poor mother died
in giving him and his sister birth; and the sister was
lost, - stolen away, two or three years later. He does
not appreciate woman at her true value," murmured
MacGentle.




84                     IDOLATRY.
"Stolen away?  His sister died in infancy, - so I
understood, sir," said the clerk, whose versions of past
events were apt to differ from  the President's.
But the President — perhaps because he was conscious that his memory regarding things of recent
occurrence was treacherous —was abnormally sensitive as to the correctness of his more distant reminiscences.
"O  no, she  was  stolen, — stolen  by her nurse,
just before Thor Helwyse went to Europe, I think,"
said he.
"Beg your pardon, sir," said  Mr. Dyke, with an
iron  smile;  " died, - burnt to  death  in  her first
year, - yes, sir!"
"Mr. Dyke," rejoined MacGentle, dignifiedly, lifting his chin high above his stock, "I have myself seen
the little girl, then in her third year, pulling  her
brother's hair on the nursery floor.  She was darkeyed,-a very lovely child.  As to the burning, I
now recollect that when the house in Brooklyn took
fire, the child was in danger, but was rescued by her
nurse, who herself received very severe injuries."
Mr. Dyke heaved a long, deliberate sigh, and allowed
his eyes to wander slowly round the room, before replying.
"You  are not a family man, Mr. MacGentle, sir!
Don't blame you, sir! Your memory, perhaps -   But




A QUARREL.                    85
no matter! The nurse who stole the child was, I
presume, the same who rescued her from the fire?"
Mr. Dyke perhaps intended to give a delicately
ironical elphasis to this question, but his irony was
apt to be a rather unwieldy and unmistakable affair.
The truth was, he was a little staggered by the President's circumstantial statement-; whence his deliberation, and his not entirely pertinent rejoinder about "a
family man."
"And why not the same, sir?  I ask you, why not
the same?" demanded Mr. MacGentle, with slender
imperiousness.
But, by this time, Mr. Dyke had thought of a new
argument.
"The little girl, I understood you to say, was dark?
Since she was the twin-sister of one of Mr. Balder
Hlelwyse's complexion, that is odd, Mr. MacGentle, 
odd, sir."  And the solid family man fixed his sharp
brown eyes full upon the unsubstantial bachelor.  The
latter's delicate nostrils expanded, and a pink flush
rose to his faded cheeks.  He was now as haughty
and superb as a paladin.
"I will discuss business subjects with my subordinates, Mr. Dyke; not other subjects, if you please!
This dispute was not begun by me. Let it be carried
no further, sir! Twins are not necessarily, nor invariably, of the same complexion.  Let nothing more be




86                    IDOLATRY.
said, Mr. Dyke.  I trust the little girl may yet be
found and restored to her family- to-to her brother!
I trust she may yet be found, sir!"  And he glared at
Mr. Dyke aggressively.
"I trust you may live to see it, Mr. MacGentle,
sir " said the confidential clerk, shifting his ground in
a truly masterly manner; and before the President
could recover, he had bowed and gone out. Ten minutes afterwards MacGentle opened the door, and lo!
Dyke himself on the threshold.
"Mr. Dyke!"
" Mr. MacGentle!" in the same breath.
" l- Mr. Dyke, let me apologize for my asperity, -
for my rudeness," says MacGentle, stepping forward
and holding out his thin white hand, his eyebrows
more raised than ever, the corners of his mouth more
depressed.  "I am sincerely sorry that - that - "
"   sir!" cries the square clerk, grasping the thin
hand in both his square palms; "0 sir! 0 sir! No, no!
-no, no! I was just coming to beg you -   My fault,
my fault, Mr. MacGentle, sir! No, no!"
Thus incoherently ended the quarrel between these
two old friends, the dispute being left undecided.  But
the important point was established that Balder Helwyse was insured a practice in Boston, in case his
uncle Glyphic's fortune failed to enrich him.




VIII.
A  COLLISION  IMMINENT.
LARGE, handsome steamer was the "Empire
State," of the line which ran between Newport
and New York. She was painted white, had walkingbeam engines, and ornamented paddle-boxes, and had
been known to run nearly twenty knots in an hour.
On the evening of the twenty-seventh of May, in the
year of which we write, she left her Newport dock as
usual, with a full list of passengers. On getting out
of the harbor, she steamed into a bank of solid fog, and
only got out of it the next morning, just before passing
Hellgate, at the head of East River, New York. On
the passage down Long Island Sound she met with an
accident. She ran into the schooner Resurrection, which
was lying becalmed across her course, carrying away
most of the schooner's bowsprit, but doing no serious
damage. This, however, was not the worst. On arriving in New York, it was found that one of the passengers was missing! He had fallen overboard during the
night, possibly at the time of the collision.
Balder Halwyse was on board.  After dining with




88                  IDOLATRY.
the cook, and smoking a real Havana cigar (probably
the first real one that he had ever been blessed with),
he put a package of the same brand in his travellingbag, bade his entertainer, -who had solemnly engaged
to remain in Boston for Mr. IHelwyse's sole sake, - bade
his fellow-convivialist good by, and took the train to
Newport, and from there the "Empire State " for New
York.
The darkness was the most impenetrable that the
young man had ever seen; Long Island Sound was
like a pocket.  The passengers —those who did not
go to their state-rooms at once - sat in the cabin reading, or dozing on the chairs and sofas. A few men
stayed out on deck for an hour or two, smoking; but
at last they too went in. The darkness was appalling.
The officer on the bridge blew his steam fog-whistle
every few minutes, and kept his lanterns hung out;
but they must have been invisible at sixty yards.
Helwyse  kept the  deck  alone.  Apparently he
meant to smoke his whole bundle of cigars before turning in. He paced up and down, Napoleon-like in his
high boots, until finally he was brought to a stand by
the blind night-wall, which no man can either scale or
circumvent.  Then he leaned on the railing and looked
against the darkness.  Not a light to be seen in
heaven or on earth! The water below whispered and
swirled past, torn to soft fragments by the gigantic




A COLLISION IMMINENT.              89
paddle-wheel. Helwyse's beard was wet and his hands
sticky with the salt mist.
Ever and anon sounded the fog-whistle, hoarsely,
as though the fog had got in its throat; and the pale
glare of a lantern, fastened aloft somewhere, lighted up
the white issuing steam for a moment. There was no
wind; one was conscious of motion, but all sense of
direction and position - save to the steersman - was
lost.  Helwyse could see the red end of his cigar, and
very cosey and friendly it looked; but he could see
nothing else.
It is said that staid and respectable people, when
thoroughly steeped in night, will sometimes. break out
in wild grimaces and outlandish gesticulations.  It is
certainly the time when unlawful thoughts and words
come  to men  most readily and naturally.  Night
brings forth many things that daylight starts from.
The real power of darkness lies not in merely baffling
the eyesight, but in creating the feeling of darkness in
the soul.  The chains of light are broken, and we can
almost believe our internal night to be as impenetrable
to God's eyes as that external, to our own!
By and by Ielwyse thought he would find some
snug, place and sit down.  The cabin' of the "Empire
State" was built on the main deck, abaft the funnel,
like a long, low house.  Between the stern end of
this house and the taffrail was a small space, thickly




90                   IDOLATRY.
grown with camp-stools. Helwyse groped his way thither, got hold of a couple of the camp-stools, and arranged
himself comfortably with his back against the cabin
wall.  The waves bubbled invisibly in the wake beneath. After sitting for a while in the dense blackness, Helwyse began to feel as though his whole physical self were shrivelled into a single atom, careering
blindly through infinite space!
After all, and really, was he anything more? If
he chose to think not, what logic could convince him
of the contrary? Visible creation, as any child could
tell him, was an illusion, - was not what it seemed to
be. But this darkness was no illusion! Why, then,
was it not the only reality? and he but an atom,
charged with a vital power of so-called senses, that
generally deceived him, but sometimes - as now - let
him glimpse the truth? The fancy, absurd as it was,
had its attraction for the time being. This great living,
staring world of men and things is a terrible weight to
lug upon one's back.  But if man be an invisible atom,
what a vast, wild, boundless freedom is his! Infinite
space is wide enough to cut any caper in, and no one
the wiser.
One would like to converse with a man who had
been born and had lived in solitude and darkness.
What original views he would have about himself and
life! Would he think himself an abstract intelligence,




A COLLISION IMMINENT.             91
out of space and time? What a riddle his physical
sensations would be to him! Or, suppose him to meet
with another being brought up in the same way; how
they would mystify each other! Would they learn to
feel shame, love, hate? or do the passions only grow
in sunshine? Would they ever laugh? Would they
hatch plots against each other, lie, deceive? Would
they have secrets from each other?
But, fancy aside, take a supposable case. Suppose
two sinners of our daylight world to meet for the first
time, mutually unknown, on a night like this. Invisible, only audible, how  might they plunge profound into most naked intimacy,- read aloud to each
other the secrets of their deepest hearts! Would the
confession lighten their souls, or make them twice as
heavy as before? Then, the next morning, they might
meet and pass, unrecognizing and unrecognized.  But
would the knot binding them to each other be any
the less real, because neither knew to whom he was
tied? Some day, in the midst of friends, in the brightest glare of the sunshine, the tone of a voice would
strike them pale and cold.
Somewhat after this fashion, perhaps, did Helwyse
commune with himself.  He liked to follow the whim
of the moment, whither it would lead him. He was
romantic; it was one of his agreeablest traits, because
spontaneous; and he indulged it the more, as being




92                   IDOLATRY.
confident that he had too much solid ballast in the
hold to be in danger of upsetting. To-night, at this
point of his mental ramble, he found that his cigar had
gone out.  Had he been thinking aloud?  He believed
not, and yet there was no telling; he often did so, unconsciously.  Were it so, and were any one listening,
that person had him  decidedly at advantage!
What put it into his head that some one might be
listening?  It may have come by pure accident, - if
there be such a thing.  The idea returned, stealing
over his mind like a chilling breath.  What if some
one had all along been close beside him, with eyes
fixed upon him! Helwyse found himself sitting perfectly still, holding his breath to listen.  There was no
disguising it,-  he felt uneasy.  He wished his cigar
had not gone out.  On second thoughts, he wished
there had not been any cigar at all, because, if any
one were near, the cigar must have pointed out the
smoker's precise position.  The uneasiness did not
lessen, but grew more defined.
It was like the sensation felt when pointed at by
a human finger, or stared at persistently.  Was there
indeed any one near?  No sound or movement gave
answer, but the odd sensation  continued.  Ielwyse
fancied he could now tell whence it came;    from the
left, and not far away. He peered earnestly thitherward, but his eyes only swallowed blackness.




A COLLISION IMMINENT.               93
Was not this carrying a whim  to a foolish length?
If he thought he had a companion, why not speak,
and end the doubt?  But the dense silence, darkness,
uncertainty, made common-sense seem  out of place.
The whole black fog, the sea, the earth itself, seemed
to be pressing down his will! The longer he delayed,
the weaker he grew.
A  slight shifting of his position caused him  all at
once to encounter the eyes of the unseen presence with
his own! The stout-nerved young fellow was startled
to the very heart.  Was the unseen presence startled
also?  At all events, the shock found Balder Helwyse
his tongue, seldom before tied up without his consent.
" I hope I'm not disturbing your solitude. You are
not a noisy neighbor, sir."
So flat fell the words on the blank darkness, it
seemed as if there could never be a reply. Nevertheless, a reply came.
"You must come much nearer me than you are, to
disturb my solitude.  It does not consist in being
without a companion."
The quality of this voice of darkness was peculiar.
It sounded old, yet of an age that had not outlived the
devil of youth.  Probably the invisibility of the speaker enhanced its effect.  With most of the elements of
pleasing, it was nevertheless repulsive.  It was soft,
fluent, polished, but savage license was not far off,




94                   IDOLATRY.
hard held by a slender leash; an underlying suggestion
of harsh discordance.  The utterance, though somewhat
rapid, was carefully distinct.
Helwyse had the gift of familiarity, - of that rare
kind of familiarity which does not degenerate into
contempt.  But there was an incongruity about this
person, hard to assimilate. In a couple of not very
original sentences, he had wrought upon his listener an
effect of depraved intellectual power, strangely combined with artless simplicity, — an unspeakably distasteful conjunction!  Imagination, freed from  the
check of the senses, easily becomes grotesque; and
Helwyse, unable to see his companion, had no difficulty in picturing him as a grisly monster, having a
satanic head set upon. the ingenuous shoulders of a
child.  And what was Helwyse himself?  No longer,
surely, the gravely humorous moralizer?  The laws of
harmony forbid!  He is a monster likewise; saysince grotesqueness is in vogue   the heart of Lucifer
burning beneath the cool brain of a Grecian sage.
The symbolism  is not inapt, since Helwyse, while
afflicted with pride and ambition as abstract as boundless, had, at the same time, a logical, fearless brain, and
keen delight in beauty.
" I was just thinking," remarked the latter monster,
"that this was a good place for confidential conversation."




A COLLISION IMMINENT.              95
"You believe, then, that talking relieves the mind?"
rejoined the former, softly.
" I believe a thief or a murderer would be glad of an
hour — such as now passes — to impart the story of
what is dragging him  to Hell.  And even the best
houses are better for an airing!"
"A pregnant idea! There are certainly some topics
one would like to discuss, free from the restraint that
responsibility imposes.  Have you ever reflected on
the subject of omnipotence?"
Somewhat confounded at this bold question, Helwyse hesitated a moment.
" I can't see you, remember, any more than you can
see me," insinuated the voice, demurely.
" I believe I have sometimes asked myself whether
it were obtainable,   how it might best be approximated," admitted Helwyse, cautiously; for he began to
feel that even darkness might be too transparent for
the utterance of some thoughts.
"But you never got a satisfactory answer, and are
not therefore omnipotent?  Well, the reason probably
is, that you started wrongly. Did it ever occur to you
to try the method of sin?"
"To obtain omnipotence?  No!"
"It would n't be right, - eh? " chuckled the voice.
"But then one must lay aside prejudice if one wants
to be all-powerful! Now, sin denotes separation; the




96                    IDOLATRY.
very etymology of the word should have attracted the
attention of an ambitious man, such as you seem to be.
It is a path separate from  all other paths, and therefore worth exploring."
"It leads to weakness, not to power!"
"If followed in the wrong spirit, very true. But the
wise man sins and is strong! See how frank I am! -
But don't let me monopolize the conversation."
"I should like to hear your argument, if you have
one.  You are a prophet of new things."
"Sin is an old force, though it may be applied in
new ways.  Well, you will admit that the true sinner
is the only true reformer and philosopher among men?
No?  I will explain, then.  The world is full of discordances, for which man is not to blame.  His endeavor to meet and harmonize this discordance is
called  sin.  His indignation  at disorder, rebellion
against it, attempts to right it, are crimes! That is
the vulgar argument which wise men smile at."
" I may be very dull; but I think your explanations need explaining."
"We'11 take some examples.  What is the liar, but
~one who sees the false relations of things, and seeks
to put them  in the true?  The mission of the thief,
again, is to equalize the notoriously unjust distribution of wealth.  A fundamental defect in the principles of human association gave birth to the murderer;




A COLLISION IMMINENT.               97
and as for the adulterer, he is an immortal protest
against the absurd laws which interfere between the
sexes. Are not these men, and others of similar stamp,
the bulwarks of true society,  our leaders towards
justice and freedom?"
Whether this were satire, madness, or earnest, Helwyse could not determine.  The night-fog had got into
his brain.  He made shift, however, to say that the
criminal class were not, as a mere matter of fact, the
most powerful.
"Again you misapprehend me," rejoined the voice,
with  perfect suavity.  "No  doubt there are many
weak and foolish persons who commit crimes, - nay,
I will admit that the vast majority of criminals are
weak and foolish; but that does not affect the dignity of the true sinner, -he who sins from  exalted
motives.  Ignorance is the only real crime, polluting
deeds that, wisely done, are sublime.  Sin is culture! "
"Were I, then, from  motives of self-culture, to kill
you, I should be taking a long step towards rising in
your estimation?" put in HIelwyse.
"Admirable! " softly exclaimed the voice, in a tone as
of an approving pat on the back. " Certainly, I should
be the last to deny it! But would it not be more for
the general good, were I, who have long been a student of these things, to kill a seeming novice like
5                             G




98                   IDOLATRY.
you? It would assure me of having had one sincere
disciple."
"I wonder whether he's really mad?" mused Balder
Helwyse, shuddering a little in the dampness.
"But, badinage aside," resumed this loquacious voice,
"although there is so much talk and dispute about
evil, very few people know what evil essentially is.
Now, there are some things, the mere doing of which
by the most involuntary agent would at once stamp
his soul with the conviction of ineffable sin. He would
have touched the essence of evil. And if a wise man
has done that, he has had in his hand the key to
omnipotence! "
" It is easily had, then. A man need but take his
Leviticus and Deuteronomy, and run through the catalogue of crimes. He would be sure of finding the
key hidden beneath some of them."
"No; you do Moses scant justice. He - shrewd
soul!- was too cunning to fall into such an error as
that. He forbade a few insignificant and harmless
acts, which every one is liable to commit. His policy
was no less simple than sagacious. By amusing mankind with such trumpery, he lured them off the scent
of true sin. Believe me, the artifice was no idle one.
Should mankind learn the secret, a generation would
not pass before the world would be turned upside
down, and its present iuler buried in the ruins!"




A COLLISION IMMINENT.            99
At this point, surely, Helwyse got up and went to
his state-room without listening to another word?Not so. The Lucifer in him was getting the better
of the sage. He wanted to hear all that the voice of
darkness had to say. There might be something new,
something instructive in it. He might hear a word
that would unbar the door he had striven so long to
open. He aimed at knowledge and power beyond recognized human reach. He had taken thought with
himself keenly and deeply, but was still uncertain
and unsatisfied. Here opened a new avenue, so untried as to transcend common criticism. The temptation to omnipotence is a grand thing, and may have
shaken greater men than Helwyse; and he had trained
himself to regard it -not exactly as a temptation. As
for good or bad methods, -at a certain intellectual
height such distinctions vanish. Vulgar immorality he
would turn from as from anything vulgar; but refined,
philosophic immorality, as a weapon of power, — there
was fascination in it.
- Folly and delusion!
But Helwyse was only Helwyse, careering through
pitchy darkness, on a viewless sea, with a plausible
voice at his ear insinuating villanous thoughts with an
air of devilish good-fellowship!
The "Empire State" was at this moment four and
a half miles northeast of the schooner whose bow



100                  IDOLATRY.
sprit she was destined to carry away. The steamer
was making about tel knots an hour; the schooner
was slowly drifting with the tide into the line of the
steamer's course. The catastrophe was therefore about
twenty-seven minutes distant.




IX.
THE VOICE  OF DARKNESS.
HE  fog-whistle screeched  dismally.  Helwyse
took his feet off the camp-stool in front of him,
and sat upright.
" Do you know this secret of sin? " he asked.
" It must, of course, be an object of speculation to a
thoughtful man," answered the voice, modestly parrying the question.  "But I assure you that only a man
of intellect - of genius - has in him the intelligence,
the sublime reach of soul, which could attain the full
solution of the problem; they who merely blunder into
it would fail to grasp the grand significance of the
idea."
"But you affirm that whoever fairly masters the
problem of absolute sin would have God and His kingdom.at his mercy?"
" I am loath to appear boastful; but I apprehend the
fact to be not unlike what you suggest," the voice replied, with a subdued gusto. "It would depend upon
our hypothetical person's discretion, and his views as
to the claims of the august Being who has so long con



102                 IDOLATRY.
trolled the destinies of. the human race, how  much
the existing order of things might have to fear from
him. I should imagine that the august Being, if He
be as wise as they say He is, would be careful how He
treated this hypothetical person!"
"You are a liar," said Helwyse, unceremoniously.
"Why is not Satan, who must possess this all-powerful
knowledge, supreme over the universe?"
Instead of taking offence (as Helwyse, to do him
justice, hoped it would; for his Berserker blood, which
boiled only at heaven-and-hell temperature, was beginning to stir in him), -so far from being offended, the
voice only uttered its peculiar quiet chuckle.
"Your frankness charms me! it proves you worthy
to learn. Satan- supposing there be such a personage - divides, with the other august Being, the sovereignty of the spiritual world. Were I a cynic, I
should say he owned at least half of the physical
world into the bargain! But Satan is only a spirit,
and his power over men is but as the power of a
dream. Were a Satan to arise in the flesh, so that
men could see and touch him, and hear his voice with
their fleshy ears, - there were a Satan! Already has
the Incarnation of goodness appeared to mankind, and,
though the world be moved to virtue only slowly and
with reluctance, mark how mighty has been his influence! What think you, then, would be the power




THE VOICE OF DARKNESS.           103
of a Christ of evil, showing to men the path they
already grope for? I tell you, the human race would
be his only; Hell, full to bursting with their hurrying
souls, would outweigh Heaven in the balance; the
teller of the secret would be king above all, —forever!'
The sinuous voice twined round the listener's mind,
swaddling the vigorous limbs into imbecile inertia.
But when before now did a sane human brain let itself
be duped by sophistry? This case were worth marking, if only because it is unparalleled.
"And the only punishable sin is ignorance I" muttered Helwyse.
"Well, I have thought so, too. And I have questioned whether a man might have power over himself,
to put his hand to evil or to good alike, and to remain
impartial and impassive; and so make evil and good
alike minister to his culture and raise him upwards! "
"The question does credit to your wit," chimed in
the voice of darkness. "Whoever has in him  the
making of a deity must learn the nature of opposites.
The soldier will not join battle without studying the
tactics of the enemy. Without experimental knowledge of both evil and good, none but a fool would
believe that man can become all-powerful."
"From the care with which you avoid speaking the
name of God, if from no other cause, I should suppose




104                   IDOLATRY.
you to be the Devil himself!"  observed  Helwyse,
bluntly.
"Well, profanity is vulgar! As to my being the
Devil, it is too dark here for either denial or acknowledgment to be of practical use.  But (to be serious)
about this secret  "
The voice paused interrogatively. Lucifer, speaking through Helwyse's lips, demanded sullenly, -
"Well, what is the secret?"
What, indeed! Why, there is no such secret; — it
is a bugbear!  But the moral perversion of the person who could soberly ask the question that Helwyse asked is not so easily disposed of.  It met,
indeed, with full recognition.  As for the subtile voice,
having accomplished its main purpose, it began now
to evade the point and to run into digressions; until
the collision came, and ended the conversation forever.
Unfortunately," said the voice, " the secret is not
such as may be told in a word.  Like all profound
knowledge, it can only be communicated by leading
the learner, step by step, over the ground traversed
by the original discoverer.  Let me, as a sort of preliminary, suppose a case."
Hereupon ensued a considerable silence, and Helwyse seemed  once more  a  detached  atom, flying
through infinite darkness without guide or control.




THE VOICE OF DARKNESS.            105
Where was he? -what was he? Did the world exist, - the broad earth, the sunny sky, the beauty, the
sound, the order and sweet succession  of nature?
Was he a shadow that had dreamed for a moment a
strange dream, and would anon be quenched, and know
what had seemed Self no more?  Strangely, through
the doubt and uncertainty, Helwyse felt the pressure
of his shoulders against the cabin wall, and the touch
of the dead cigar between his fingers.
The voice, resuming, restored him to a reality that
seemed less trustworthy than the doubt.  The tone
was not quite the same as heretofore.  The smooth
mocking had given place to a hurried excitement,
alien to the philosophic temperament.
"A  man kidnaps the child of his enemy, through
the child to revenge himself. Kill it? —no! he is
no short-sighted bungler; he has refinement, foresight,
understanding. She is but an infant, - open and impressible, warm and sanguine! He isolates her from
sight and reach. He pries into her nature with keenest delicacy, - no leaf is unread. Being learnt, he
works upon it; touches each budding trait with gentlest impulse. No violence! he seems to leave her
to her own development; yet nothing goes against
his will. More than half is left to nature, but his
scarce perceptible touches bias nature. Ah! the idealization of education!"
5*




106                  IDOLATRY.
"This sounds more real than hypothetical!" thought
HIelwyse.
"So cunning was he, he reversed in her mind the
universal law. Evil was good; good, evil.  She grew
fast and strong, for evil is the sweeter food; it is rich
earth to the plant. She never knew that evil existed,
yet evil was all she knew! For whatever is forced reacts; he never taught her positive sin, lest she perversely turn to good."
"Did he mean insensibly to initiate her into the
knowledge of absolute sin?"
"Such would be his purpose,  such would be his
purpose. To make her a devil, without the chance of
knowing it possible to be anything else!"
"He was a fool," growled Helwyse. "The plan is
folly, - impracticable in twenty ways. A soul cannot
be so influenced. Devils are not made by education.
The only devil would be the educator  "
But the voice had forgotten his presence. It ceased
not to mutter to itself while he was speaking, and now
it broke forth again.
"Years have passed, - she is a woman now.  She
knows not that the world exists. All is yet latent
within her.  But the time is at hand when the hidden
forces shall flower! Plunged into life, with nothing to
hold by, no truth, no divine help; her marvellous
powers and pass-ions in full strength,-all trained to




THE VOICE OF DARKNESS.            107
drag her down, - not one aspiring; maddened by new
thoughts, limitless opportunities opening before her, -
she will plunge into such an abyss of sin as has been
undreamt of since the Deluge!"
" Well, - what of it? what is the upshot?" questioned Helwyse with sullen impatience. The emotion
now apparent in the voice, uncanny though it was,
counteracted the spell wrought by its purely intellectual depravity.  Helwyse was perhaps beginning
to understand that he had ventured his stock of
virgin gold for a handful of unclean waste-paper!
He will come back,- her father,   my enemy! I
have waited for him from youth to age. I have seen
him in my dreams, and in visions. I am with him
continually, - we talk together.  At first, cringingly
and softly, I lead him to recall the past, to speak of
the dead wife, - the lost child, - her baby ways and
words.  I lure him on till imagination has fired his
love and given life and vividness to his memory. Then
I whisper, -She lives I she is near! in a moment he
shall behold her! And while his heart beats and
he trembles, I bring her forth in her beauty. Take
her! your daughter! the one devil -on earth; but
devils shall spring like grass in the track of her
footsteps "
The voice had worked itself into a frenzy, and, forgetting caution, had crazily exposed itself.  Its owner




108                   IDOLATRY.
was probably some poor lunatic, subject to fits of madness.  But Helwyse was full of scorn and anger, born
of that bitterest disappointment which admits not even
the poor consolation of having worthily aspired.  Ie
had been duped, - and by the cobwebs of a madman's
brain! He broke into a short laugh, harsh to the ear,
and answering to "no mirthful impulse.
"So! you are the hero of your story? You have
brooded all your life over a crazy scheme of stabbing a
father through his child, until you have become as
blind as you are vicious! As for the girl, you may
have made her ignorant and stupid, or even idiotic;
but that she should become queen of Hell or anything
of that kind-"
He stopped, for his unseen companion was evidently
beyond hearing him.  The man seemed to be actually
struggling in a fit, -gasping and choking.  It was a
piteous business,    not less piteous than revolting.
But Helwyse felt no pity, -only ugly, hateful, unrelenting anger, needing not much stirring to blaze forth
in fearful passion.  Where now were his wise saws, —
his philosophic indifference? Self-respect is the pith
of such supports; which  being gone, the supports
fail.
" My music,- my music!" gasped the voice; "my
music, or I shall die!"
"Die?  Yes, it were well you should die.  You




THE VOICE OF DARKNESS.             109
cumber the earth!  Shall I do it?" Helwyse muttered to his heart,  " merely as a means of culture!"
Perhaps it was said only in a mood of sardonic
jesting.  The next moment, no doubt, Balder Helwyse would have retired to his cabin, leaving the
voice of darkness forever.  But at that moment the
hurried flash of a lantern on the captain's bridge fell
full on the young man's face and shoulders, gleaming
in his eyes, and lighting up the masses of yellow hair
and mighty beard.  He was standing with one hand
resting on the taffrail.  The dim  halo of the fog,
folding him  about, made him  look like a spirit.




X.
IHELWYSE  RESISTS THE DEVIL.
A   S the light so fell, hoarse voices shouted, and
then a concussion shivered through the steamer,
and her headway was slackened.  But of this Helwyse knew nothing; for the voice had burst forth in
a cry of fear, amazement, and hate; and in another
breath he found himself clutched tightly in long, wiry
arms, and felt panting breath hot against his face.
He struggled at first to free himself, — but he was
held in the grip of a madman! Then did the turbid
current of his blood begin to leap and tingle, and
strange half-thoughts darted through his mind like
deformed spectres, capering as they flew!  The bulwark of his will was overthrown; he could not poise
himself long enough to recover his self-sway.  He was
sliding headlong down a steep, the velocity momently
increasing.
Was it Balder Helwyse that was struggling thus
furiously, his body full of fire, his brain of madness,
his heart quick-beating with savage, wicked, thirsty
joy?  His soul -his own no longer -was bestridden




IIELWYSE RESISTS THE DEVIL.         111
by a frantic demon, who, brimming over with hot glee,
drove him whirling blindly on, with an ever-growing
purpose that surcharged each smallest artery, and furnished a condensed dart of malice wherewith to stab
and stab again the opposing soul.  He waxed every
instant madder, wickeder, more devilishly exultant;
and now, although panting, breathless, pricking at
every pore from  the agony of the strain, he could
scarce forbear screaming with delight! for he felt he
was gaining, and - 0 ecstasy! - knew that his adversary felt it also, and that his heart was as full of
black despair and terror as was his conqueror's of intolerable triumph!  Gaining still!
Strange, that all through this wild frenzy in which
body and soul were rapt, the essential part of Balder
Helwyse seemed to be looking on, with a curious,
repellent twist of feature, commenting on what was
going forward, and noting, with quiet interest and precision, each varying phase of the struggle, —noting,
as of significance, that the sway of the demon of murder made the idea of other crimes seem beyond words
congenial, enticing, delicious!
Steadily through this storm of lawless fury has the
predestined victory been drawing near!  The throbbing of his enemy's heart, - Helwyse feels it; did
ever lover so rejoice in the palpitations of his mistress?  O  the wine of life! drunk from  the cup




112                  IDOLATRY.
of murder!  Hear how  the wretch's voice breaks
choking from his throat! — he would beg for mercy,
but cannot, shall not!  Keep your fingers in his
throat; the other hand creeps warily downwards.
Now hurl him up, - over!But with what an ugly gulp the black water swallowed his body!




XI.
A DEAD WEIGHT.
W     AS it not well done? Tempted to covet imaginary wickedness, Helwyse was ripe for real
crime, - and who so worthy to suffer as the tempter?
He leaned panting against the taffrail. His predominant feeling was that he had been ensnared.  His
judgment had been drugged, and he had been lured on
to evil. An infamous conspiracy!
His breath regained, he stood upright and in a mechanical manner arranged his disordered dress. His
haversack was gone, - had been torn from his shoulders and carried overboard. An awkward loss  for it
contained, among other things, valuable letters and
papers given him by his father; not to mention a notebook of his own, and Uncle Glyphic's miniature. His
dead enemy had carried off the proofs of his murderer's
identity!
Not till now did Helwyse become aware of an unusual tumult on the steamer. Had they seen the
deed? - He stood with set teeth, one hand on the taffrail. Rather than be taken alive, he would leap over 
H




114                  IDOLATRY.
But it soon became evident that the nucleus of excitement was elsewhere.  The "Empire State" was at a
stand-still. Captain and mates were shouting to one
another and at the sailors.  By the flying light of the
lanterns Helwyse caught glimpses of the sails and tall
masts of a schooner.  He began to comprehend what
had happened.
"Thank God! that saves me," he said with a sense
of relaxation.  Then he turned and peered fearfully
into the black abyss beyond the stern.  Nothing there!
nothing save the heavy breathing of remorseless waves.
The statistics of things God has been thanked for,what piquant instances would such a collection afford!
Any unusual stir of emotion seems to impel a reference
to something higher than the world.  Only a bloodless
calm appears to be secure from God's interference. It
is worthy of remark that this was the first time in
Helwyse's career —at least since his arrival at years
of discretion - that he had thanked God for anything.
This was not owing to his being of a specially ungrateful disposition, but to peculiar ideas upon the subject
of a Supreme Being.  God, he believed, was no more
than the highest phase of man; and in any man of
sufficient natural endowment, he saw a possible God:
just as every American citizen is a possible President!
What is of moment at present, however, is the fact
that the young man's first inconsistency of word with




A DEAD WEIGHT.                  115
creed dates at the time his self-control forsook him on
board the midnight steamer.
In that thanksgiving prayer his passion passed away.
After unnaturally distending every sense and faculty,
it suddenly ebbed, leaving the consciousness of an irritating vacuum.  Something must be done to fill it.
One drawback to crime seems to be its insufficiency to
itself. It creates a craving which needs must be fed.
The demon returns, demanding a fresh task; and he
returns again forever!
Helwyse, therefore, plunged into the midst of the
uproar consequent on the collision, and tried to absorb
the common excitement, -to identify himself with
other men; no longer to be apart from them and above
them.  But he did not succeed.  It seemed as though
lhe would never feel excitement or warmth in the blood
again! His deed was a dead weight that steadied him
spite of his best efforts.  His aim  has hitherto been,
not to forget himself; -let him  forget himself now
if he can!
The uproar was over all too soon, and the steamer
once more under way.
" No serious harm  done, sir!  no harm. done!" observed a spruce steward.
" No; no harm."
" By the way, sir, - thought I heard some one sing
out aft just afore we struck. You heard it, sir? Thought
some fellow'd gone overboard, may be!"




116                  IDOLATRY.
"I saw no one," answered Helwyse; nor had he.
But he turned away, fearing that the brisk steward
might read prevarication in his face. No, he had seen
no one; but he had heard a plunge! He revolted
from the memory of it, but it would not be banished.
Had there been a soul in the body before it made that
dive? even for a few minutes afterwards? He would
have given much to know   In theorizing about crime,
he had always maintained the motive to be all in all.
But now, though unable to controvert the logic of
his assertion, he felt it told less than the whole truth.
He recognized a divine conservative virtue in straws,
and grasped at the smallest! Through the long torture of self-questioning and indecision, let us not follow him. Uncertainty is a ghastly element in such a
matter.
He groped his way back to the taffrail. Why, he
knew not; but there he was at last. He might safely
soliloquize now; there was no listener. He might light
a cigar and smoke; no one would see him. Yet, no;
for, on second thoughts, his cigars had gone with the
haversack 
He bent over the slender iron railing. Where was
-it now? Miles away by this time, swinging, swaying down - down- down to the bottom of the Sound!
Slowly turning over as it sinks, its arms now thrown
out, now doubled underneath; the legs sprawling help



A DEAD WEIGHT.                117
lessly; the head wagging loosely on the dead neck.
Down-down, pitching slowly head forwards; righting, and going down standing, the hair floating straight
on end. Down! 0, would it never be done sinking
- sinking — sinking? Was the sea deep as Hell?
But when it reached the bottom, would it rest
there? No, not even there.  It would drift uneasily
about for a while on the dark sand, the green gloom of
the water above it. Every hour it would grow less and
less heavy; by and by it would begin slowly to rise
-rise!  Horrible it looked now; not like itself, that
had been horrible enough before. Rising, —rising. O
fearful thing! why come to tell dead men's tales here?
You are done with the world. What wants mankind
with you? Begone! sink, and rise no more! It will
not sink; still it rises, and the green gloom lightens as
it slowly buoys upwards.  The light rests shrinkingly
on it, revealing the dreadful features. The limbs are
no longer pliant, but stiff, - terribly stiff and unyielding. Still it rises, nearer and nearer to the surface.
See where the throat was gripped!  Up it comes at
last in the morning sun, among the sparkling, laughing,
pure blue waves,    the swollen, dead thing! - dead in
the midst of the world's life, hideous amidst the world's
beauty.  It bobs and floats, and will sink no more;
would rise to heaven if it could! No need for that.
The tide takes it and creeps stealthily with it towards




118                  IDOLATRY.
the shore, and casts it, with shudder and recoil, upon
the beach. There it lies.
Such visions haunted Helwyse as he leaned over the
taffrail.  He had not suspected, at starting, upon how
long a voyage he was bound. How many hours might
it be since he and the cook had so merrily dined
together? Was such a contrast possible?  Surely no
more monstrous delusion than this of Time ever imposed upon. mankind! For months and years he jogs
on with us, a dull and sober-paced pedestrian. Then
comes a sudden eternity! But Time thrusts a clock
in our faces, and shows us that the hands have marked
a minute only. Shall we put faith in him?
Helwyse suffered from  a vivid imagination.  He
went not to his room that night. He kept the deck,
and tried to talk with the men, following them about
and asking aimless questions, until they began to give
him  short answers. Where were his pride and his
serene superiority to the friendship or enmity of his
race? where his philosophic self-criticism and fanciful
badinage? his resolute, conquering eyes? his bearing
of graceful, careless authority? Had. all these attributes been packed in his haversack, and cast with that
upon the waters? and would they, no more than he to
whose care they had been intrusted, ever return?
With each new hour, morning seemed farther off.
In his objectless wanderings, Helwyse came to the




A DEAD WEIGHT.                 119
well of the engine-room  and hung over it, gazing at
the bright, swift-sliding machinery, studying the parts,
tracing the subtle transmission of force from piece to
piece. Here at last was companionship for him! The 
engine was a beautiful combination, -  so polished,
effective, and logical; like the minds of some philosophers, moving with superhuman regularity and power,
but-lifeless!
Helwyse watched it long, till finally its monotony
wearied him.  It was doing admirable work, but it
never swerved from  its course at the call of sentiment or emotion.  Its travesty of life was repulsive.
Machinery is the most admirable invention of man,
but is modelled after no heavenly prototype, and will
have no part in the millennium.  It seems to annul
space and time, yet gives us no taste of eternity.
Man lives quicker by it, but not more.  With another
kind of weapon must the true victory over matter be
achieved!




XII.
MORE VAGARIES.
M     OST benign and beautiful was the morning.
The "Empire State" emerged from the fog and
left it, a rosy cloud, astern. The chasing waves sparkled and danced for joy. The sun was up, fresh and
unstained as yesterday. Night, that had changed so
much, had left the sun undimmed. With the same
power and brightness as for innumerable past centuries, his glorious glance colored the gray sky blue.
Helwyse - he was at the stern taffrail again - looked
at the marvellous sphere with unwinking eyes, until it
blurred and swam before him, and danced in colored
rings. It warmed his face, but penetrated no deeper.
Looking away, black suns moved everywhere before his
eyes, and the earth looked dim and shabby, as though
blighted by a curse.
Helwyse had not slept, partly from disinclination -to
the solitude of his berth, partly because the thought
of awakening dismayed him. Nevertheless, he could
scarcely believe in what had happened, now.  He
stood upon the very spot; here was the semicircle of




MORE VAGARIES.              121
railing, the camp-stools, the white cabin-wall against
which he had leaned.  But the blackness of night had
so utterly past away that it seemed as though the deed
done in it must in some manner have vanished likewise. What is fact at one time looks unreal at another.  It must be associated with all times and moods
before it can be fully comprehended and accepted.
Glancing down at the deck, Helwyse saw there the
cigar he had been smokiiig the night before, flattened
out by the tread of. a foot, and lying close beside it a
sparkling ring. He picked it up; it was a diamond of
purest water, curiously caught between the mouths of
two little serpents, whose golden and black bodies,
twisted round each other, formed the hoop. Realizing,
after a moment, from whose finger it must have fallen,
he had an impulse to fling it far into the sea; but his
second thought was not to part from it. The idea of
its former owner must indeed always be hateful to his
murderer; but the bond between their souls was closer
and more indissoluble than that between man and
wife; and of so unnatural a union this ring was a fair
emblem.  Unnatural though the union were, to Helwyse it seemed at the time better than total solitude.
IHe felt heavy and inelastic, - averse to himself, but
still more to society.  He wished to see men and
women, yet not to be seen of them.  He had used to
be ready in speech, and willing to listen; now, no sub6




122                  IDOLATRY.
ject interested him save one,- on which his lips must
be forever closed. When the sun had made himself
thoroughly at home on earth and in heaven, Ielwyse
went to his state-room, feeling unclean from the soul
outwards. While making his toilet, he took care to
leave the window-blind up, that he might at any time
see the blue sky and water, and the bright shore, with
its foliage and occasional houses. He shrank from severing, even for an instant, his communication with the
beneficent spirit of nature. And yet Nature could not
comfort him,-in his extremest need he found her
most barren.  He had been wont to rejoice in her as
the creature of his own senses; but when he asked her
to sympathize with his pain, she laughed at him, - the
magnificent coquette - and bade him, since she was
only the reflection of himself, be content with his
own sympathy. Truly, if man and Nature be thus
allied, and God be but man developed, then is self-sufficiency the only virtue worth cultivating, and idolatry
must begin at home!
His efforts to improve his appearance were not satisfactory; the loss of his toilet articles embarrassed him
not a little; and he, moreover, lacked zest to enter into
the business with his customary care. And what he
did was done not merely for his own satisfaction, as
heretofore, but with an eye to the criticisms' of other
people. His naively unconscious independence had




MORE VAGARIES.              123
got a blow. After doing his best he went out, pale
and heavy-eyed, the diamond ring on his finger.
The passengers had begun to assemble in the cabin.
It seemed to Helwyse, as he entered, that one and all
turned and stared at him  with suspicious curiosity.
He half expected to see an accuser rise up and point a
dreadful finger at him. But in truth the sensation he
created was no more than common; it was his morbid
sensitiveness, which for the first time took note of it.
He had been accustomed to look at' himself as at a
third person, in whose faults or successes he was alike
interested; but although his present mental attitude
might have moved him to smile, he, in fact, felt no such
impulse. The hue of his deed had permeated all possible forms of himself, thus barring him from any standpoint whence to see its humorous aspect. The sun
would not shine on it!
As time passed on, however, and no one offered to
denounce him, IIelwyse began to be more at ease.
Seeing the steward with whom  he had spoken the
night before, he asked him whereabouts he supposed
the schooner was.
" 0 she'11 be in by night, sir, safe enough. Wind's
freshened up a good bit since; would n't take her long
to rig a new bowsprit.  Beg pardon, sir, did you happen to know the party next door to you?"
" I know no one. What about him?"




124                  IDOLATRY.
"Can't find him  nowhere, sir. Door locked this
morning; had n't used his bed; must have come
aboard, for there was a violin lying on the bed in a
black box, for all the world like a coffin, sir. Queer,
ain't it?"
The steward was called away, but Helwyse's uneasiness had returned. Did this fellow suspect nothing?
The student of men could not read his face; the power
of insight seemed to have left him. Reason could tell
him that it was impossible he should be suspected, but
reason no longer satisfied him.
He left the cabin and once more sought the deck,
harried and anxious. Why could not he be stolid and
indifferent, as were many worse criminals than he?
Or was his disquiet a gauge of his moral accountability?  By as much as he was more finely gifted than
other men, was the stain of sin upon his soul more
ineffaceable? Last night, ignorance was the only evil;
but had he been satisfied with less wisdom, might he
not have sinned with more impunity? Nevertheless,
Balder Helwyse.would hardly have been willing to
purchase greater ease at the price of being less a man.
The steamer descended the narrow and swift current
of East River, rounded Castle Garden, and reached her
pier before eight o'clock. Shoulder to shoulder with
the other passengers, Helwyse descended the gangplank. The official who took his ticket eyed him so




MORE VAGARIES.               125
closely that there was the beginning of an impulse in
his weary brain to knock the fellow down.  Finding
himself not interfered with, however, he passed on to
the rattling street, beginning to understand that the
attention he excited was not owing to a visible brand
of Cain, but to his beard and hairj which were at variance with the fashion of that day. He was neither
more nor less a cynosure than at other times.  But he
was more sensitive to notice, and it now occurred to
him that his unique appearance was unsafe as well as
irksome.  Were a certain body found, in connection
with evidence more or less circumstantial, how readily
might he be pointed out! He fancied himself reading
the description in a newspaper, and realized how many
and how easily noted were his peculiarities. His carelessness of public remark had been folly. The sooner
his peculiarities were amended, the better!
At the corner of the street stood a couple of policemen, -ponderous, powerful men, able between them
to carry to jail the most refractory criminal.  One path
was open to Helwyse, whereby to recover his selfrespect, and regain his true footing with the world;
and that led into the hands of those policemen! With
a revulsion  of feeling perhaps less strange than it
seems, he walked up to them, resolved to surrender
himself on a charge of murder.  It was the simplest
issue to his embarrassments.




126                  IDOLATRY.
"Policemen!" he began, with a return of his assured voice and bearing. They stared at him, and one
said, " How?"
"Direct me to the best hotel near here!" said Helwyse.
They stared, and told him  the way to the Astor
House.
There had been but the briefest hesitation in Helwyse's mind, but during that pause he had reconsidered his resolve and said'No to it. Remembering
some episodes of his past history, he cannot hastily be
accused of vulgar fear of death.  In his case, indeed, it
may have required more courage to close his mouth
than to open it. Be that as it might, the question as
to the degree and nature of his guilt was still unsettled
in his mind. Moreover, had he been clear on this
point, he yet distrusted the competence of human laws
to do him justice.  He shrank from surrender, less as
affecting his person than as superseding his judgment.
But, failing himself and mankind, to what other court
can he appeal? Should the fitting tribunal appear, will
he have the nerve to face it?
He did not go to the Astor House, notwithstanding
the trouble he had taken to ask his way thither. He
coasted along the more obscure thoroughfares, seeming
to find something congenial in them. Here were people, many of whom had also committed crimes, whose




MORE VAGARIES.              127
eyes he need not shun to meet, who were his brethren.
To be sure, they gave him no friendly glances, taking
him for some dainty aristocrat, whom idle curiosity had
led to their domains. But Helwyse knew the secret
of his kinship; and he perhaps indulged a wild momentary dream of proclaiming himself to them, entering
into their life, and vanishing from that world that had
known him heretofore. It is a shorter step than is
generally supposed, from  human height to  human
degradation.
A pale girl with handsome features, careless expression, and somewhat disordered hair, leant out of a low
window, her loose dress falling partly open from her
bosom as she did so.
"Where are you going, my love?" inquired she, with
a professionally attractive smile. "Are n't you going
to give me a lock of that sweet yellow hair? - there's
a duck!"
It so happened that Helwyse had never before been
openly accosted by a member of this class of the community. Was this infringement of the rule the result
of his own fall, or of the' girls exceptional effrontery?
He had an indignant glance ready poised, but forbore
to hurl it I The worst crime of the young woman was
that she disposed of herself at a rate of remuneration
exactly corresponding to the value of the commodity;
whereas he, less economical and orderly, had mortgaged




128                  IDOLATRY.
his own soul by disposing of some one else's body, and
was, if anything, out of pocket by the transaction!
Undoubtedly the young woman had the best of it;
very likely, had she been aware of the circumstances,
she would not have deigned him so much as a smile.
He therefore neither yielded to her solicitations nor
rebuked them, but passed on. The adventure rectified his fraternizing impulse. Albeit standing accountant for so great a sin, the mire was as yet alien to
him.
But there was pertinence in the young woman's
question; where was he going, indeed?  Since the
catastrophe on board the steamer, he had forgotten
Doctor Glyphic.  He felt small inclination to meet
his relative now; but certain considerations of personal interest no longer wore the same color as yesterday.  Robbed of his self-respect, he could ill afford to surrender worldly wealth into the bargain.
On the other hand, to palm himself off on his uncle
for a true man was adding hypocrisy to his other
crime.
Such an objection, however, could hardly have turned
the scale.  Great crimes are magnets of smaller ones.
It was necessary for Helwyse to alter the whole scheme
of his life-voyage; and since he had failed in beating
up against the wind, why not make all sail before
it? Meanwhile, it was easier to call on Doctor Glyphic




MORE VAGARIES.                129
than to devise a new course of action; and thus, had
matters been allowed to take their natural turn, mere
inertia might have brought about their meeting.
But the irony of events turns our sternest resolves to
ridicule.  On the next street-corner was a hair-dresser's
shop, its genial little proprietor, plump and smug, rubbing his hands and smiling in the doorway. Beholding
the commanding figure of the yellow-bearded young
aristocrat, afar off, his professional mouth watered over
him. What a harvest for shears and razor was here!
Dare he hope that to him would be intrusted the glorious task of reaping it?
As Helwyse gained the corner, his weary eyes took
in the smiling hair-dresser, the little room beyond cheerful with sunshine and colored paper-hangings, and the
padded chair for customers to recline in. Here might
he rest awhile, and rise up a new man,- a stranger to
himself and to all who had known him. It was fitting
that the inward change should take effect without; not
to mention that the wearing of so conspicuous a mane
was as unsafe as it was unsuitable.
He entered the shop, therefore, -the proprietor backing and bowing before him,-  and sat down with a
sigh in the padded chair.  Immediately he was enveloped in a light linen robe, a towel was tucked in
round his neck by deft caressing fingers, the soothing
murmur of a voice was in his ear, and presently
6                             I




130                 IDOLATRY.
sounded the click-click of shears. The descendant of
the Vikings closed his eyes and felt comfortable.
The peculiar color and luxuriance of Balder's hair
and beard were marked attributes of the Helwyse line.
In these days of ponderous genealogies, who would be
surprised to learn that the family sprang from that
Balder, surnamed the Beautiful, who was the sun-god
of Scandinavian mythology? Certain of his distinctive
characteristics, both physical and mental, would appear
to have been perpetuated with marvellous distinctness
throughout the descent; above all, the golden locks,
the blue eyes, and the sunny disposition.
For the rest, so far as sober history can trace them
back, they seem to have been a noble and adventurous
race of men, loving the sea, but often taking a high
part in the political affairs of the nation. The sons
were uniformly fair, but the daughters dark, -owing,'it was said, to the first mother of the line having been
a dark-eyed woman. But the advent of a dark-eyed
heir had been foretold from the earliest times, not
without ominous (albeit obscure) hints as to the part
he would play in the family history.  The precise
wording of none of these old prophecies has come
down to us; but they seem  in general to have intimated that the dark-eyed Helwyse would bring the
race to a ruinous and disgraceful end, saving on the
accomplishment of conditions too improbable to de



MORE VAGARIES.               131
serve recording. The dead must return to life, the
living forsake their identity, love unite the blood of
the victim to that of the destroyer,- and other yet
stranger things must happen before the danger could
be averted.
The superstitious reverence paid to enigmatical
utterances of this kind has long ago passed away;
and, if any meaning ever attaches to them, it is apt
to be sadly commonplace. Nevertheless, when Balder
was born, and the hereditary blue eyes were found
wanting, the circumstance was doubtless the occasion
of much half-serious banter among those to whom
the ominous prophecies were familiar. Certainly the
young man had already made one grave mistake; and
he could hardly have followed it up by a more disgraceful retreat than this to the hair-dresser's saloon.
The ghosts of his heroic forefathers in Valhalla would
disown his shorn head with indignant scorn; for their
golden locks had ever been sacred to them  as their
honor. When the Roman Empire was invaded by the
Goths and Vandals, a Helwyse - so runs the tale -
was taken prisoner and brought before the Roman
General. The latter summoned a barber and a headsman, and informed the captive that he might choose
between forfeiting his head, and that which grew upon
it. As to the precise words in which the Northern
warrior couched his reply, historians vary; but they




132                   IDOLATRY.
are agreed on the important point that his head was
chopped off without delay!
Did the memory of these things bring no blush to
Balder's cheeks?  There he sat, as indifferent, to all
outward seeming, as though he were asleep. But this
may have been the apathy consequent on the abandonment of lofty pretensions and sublime ambitions; betraying proud sensitiveness rather than base lack of
feeling.  Balder Helwyse was not the first man of
parts to appear in an undignified and unheroic light.
The foremost man of all this world once whined like a
sick girl for his physic, and preposterously overestimated his swimming powers; yet his greatness found
him out!
In sober earnest, however, what real importance attaches to Helwyse's doings at this juncture? Physically and mentally weary, he may have acted from the
most ordinary motives.  As to his entertaining any
superstitious crotchets about having his hair cut, —
the spirit of the age forbid it!




XIII.
THROUGH A GLASS.
lHE hair-dresser had the quality- now rare among
his class —of unlimited and  self-enjoying loquacity; soothing, because its little waves lapsed in
objectless prattle on the beach of the apprehension, to
be attended to or not at pleasure.  The sentences
were without regular head or tail, and were connected
by a friendly arrangement between themselves, rather
than by any logical sequence; while the recurring
pauses at interesting epochs of work wrought a recognition of how  caressing had been the easy voice,
and accumulated a lazy disposition to hear it continue.
After decking  Helwyse for the sacrifice, he had
murmured confidentially in his ear, "Hair, sir? — or
beard, sir? — or both? — little of both, sir?  Just
so.  Hair first, please, sir. Love-ly morning!"
And thereupon began to clip and coo and whisk
softly about, in the highest state of barberic joy.
As he worked, inspired by the curly, flowing glossy
locks which, to his eye, called inarticulately for the




134                  IDOLATRY.
tools of his trade, his undulating monologue welled
forth until Coleridge might have envied him. Helwyse heard the sound, but let the words go by to
that unknown limbo whither all sounds, good or bad,
have been flying since time began.
By and by the hair was done; there ensued a
plying of brushes, a blowing down the neck, and a
shaking out of the linen apron.
" Will you cast your eyes on the mirror now, sir,
please?"
"No,-go on and finish, first," replied Helwyse;
and forthwith a cushion was insinuated beneath his
head, and his feet were elevated upon a rest.  He
heard the preparation of the warm lather, and anon
the knowing strapping of a razor.  He put up his
hand and stroked his beard for the last time, wondering how he would look without it.
" Never saw the like before, sir; must have annoyed
you dreadful!" remarked the commiserating barber, as
he passed the preparatory scissors round his customer's
jaw, mowing the great golden sheaf at one sweep.
IHe spoke of it as though it were a cancer or other
painful excrescence, the removal of which would be
to the sufferer a boon unspeakable.
Helwyse's face expressed neither anguish nor relief;
he presently lost himself in thoughts of his own, only
returning to the perception of outside things when




THROUGH A GLASS.                135
the barber asked  him  whether he, also, had ever
attended camp-meeting; the subject being evidently
one which had been held forth upon for some time
past.
"No?" continued the little man, who by long practice had acquired a wonderful power of interpreting
silence.  "Well, it's a great thing, sir; and a right
curious thing is experiencing religion, too! A  great
blessing I've found it, sir; there's a peace dwells
with me, as the minister says, right along all the time
now.  Does the razor please you, sir?  Ah! I was a
wild and godless being once, although always reckoned
a smart hand with the razor; — Satan never took my
cunning hand, as the poet says, away from me. Yes,
there was a time when I was how-d' y'-do with all
the bloods around the place, and a good business I
used to do out of them, too, sir; but religion is a
peace there's no  understanding, as the Good Book
says; and if I don't make all I used to, I save twice
as much, - and that's the good of it, sir.  Beau-ti-ful
chin is yours, sir, I declare!"
"Do you believe in the orthodox faith? " demanded
Helwyse; "in miracles, and the Trinity, and so forth? "
"Everything we're told to believe in I believe, I
hope, sir; and as quick as I hear anything more,
why, I'm ready to believe that also, provided only it
comes through orthodox  channels, as the saying is.




136                   IDOLATRY.
Ah, sir, it's the unquestioning belief that brings the
happiness.  I would n't have anything explained to me,
not if I could! and my faith is such, that what goes
against it I never would believe, not if you proved it
to me black and white, sir!  Love-ly skin you've
got, sir, — it's just like a woman's. The intellect is
a snare, that's what it is, — ah, yes!  You think
with me, sir, don't you?"
But Helwyse had relapsed into silence..The little
hair-dresser was happy, was he?- happy, and hopeful,
and conscious of spiritual progress? - had no misgivings and feared no danger, —because he had eliminated reason from  his scheme of religion! Divine
reason, — could man live without it? A  snare?Well, had not Balder found it so?
True, that was not reason's fault, but his who misused reason. True, also, that he who believed on others'
authority believed not ideas but men, and was destitute of self-reliance or dignity. Yet the hair-dresser
seemed to find in that very dependence his best happiness, and to have built up a factitious self-respect
from the very ruin of true dignity.  His position was
the antipodes of Balder's, yet, if results were evidence,
it was tenable and more successful.
This plump, superficial, smiling little hair-dresser was
a person of no importance, yet it happened to him to
modify not only Helwyse's external aspect, but the




THROUGH A GLASS.               137
aspect of his mind as well,-by the presentation of
a new idea; for, strange to say, Helwyse had never
chanced to doubt that seraphim  were higher than
cherubim, or that independence was the only ladder
to heaven. To be taught by one avowedly without
intellect is humiliating; but the experience of many
will furnish examples of a singular disregard of this
kind of proprieties.
When the shaving was done to the artist's satisfaction, he held the mirror before his customer's face.
Helwyse looked narrowly at'his reflection, as was natural in making the acquaintance of one who was to be
his near and intimate companion.  He beheld a set
of features strongly yet gracefully built, but shorn of
a certain warm, manly attractiveness.  The immediate
visibility of month and chin -index of so large a
part of man's nature -startled him. He was dismayed at the ease wherewith the working of emotion
might now be traced.  Man wholly unveiled to himself is indeed an awful spectacle, be the dissectionroom  that of the surgeon or of the psychologist.
Hardly might angels themselves endure it. A measure of ignorance of ourselves is wise, because consciousness of a weakness may lead us to give it rein.
Perfect strength can coexist only with perfect knowledge, but neither is attainable by man. Man should
pray to be screened from  himself, lest his sword




138                  IDOLATRY.
fail,-lest the Gorgon's head on his breast change
him to stone.
The gracious, outflowering veil of Balder Helwyse's
life had vanished, leaving nakedness. Henceforth he
must depend on fence, feint and guard, not on the
downright sword-stroke. With Adam, the fig-leaf succeeded innocence as a garment; for Helwyse, artificial
address must do duty as a fig-leaf. The day of guiltless sincerity was past; gone likewise the day of open
acknowledgment of guilt. Now dawned the day of
counterfeiting, -not always the shortest of our mortal year.
On the whole, Helwyse's new face pleased him not.
He felt self-estranged and self-distrustful. Standing
on the borders of a darker land, the thoughts and
deeds of his past life swarmed in review before his
eyes. Many a seeming trifling event now showed as
the forewarning of harm to come. The day's journey
once over, we see its issue prophesied in each trumpery raven and cloud that we have met since morning. However, the omens would have read as well
another way; for nature, like man, is twofold, and can
be as glibly quoted to Satan's advantage as to God's.
"Very well done!" said Helwyse to the barber,
passing a hand over the close-cropped head and polished chin. "The only trouble is, it cannot be done
once for alL"




THROUGH A GLASS.              139
As the little man smilingly remarked, however, the
charge was but ten cents. His customer paid it and
went out, and was seen by the hair-dresser to walk
listlessly up the street. The improvement in his personal appearance had not mended his spirits. Indeed,
it. cannot be disguised that his trouble was more serious than lay within a barber's skill altogether to set
right.
Were man potentially omniscient, then might Balder's late deed be no crime, but a simple exercise of
prerogative. But is knowledge of evil real knowledge?
God is goodness and man is evil. God knows both
good and evil. Man knows evil-knows himself —
only; knows God only in so far as he ceases to be
man and admits God. But this simple truth becomes
confused if we fancy a possible God il man.
This was Balder's difficulty. Possessed of a strong,
comprehensive mind, he had made a providence of
himself; confounded intelligence with integrity; used
the moral principle not as a law of action but as a
means of insight. The temptation so to do is strong
in proportion as the mind is greatly gifted. But experience shows no good results from yielding to it. Blind
moral instinct, if not safer, is more comfortable!
Not the deed alone, but the revelation it brought,
preyed on the young man's peace. If he were a criminal to-day, then was the whole argument of his past




140                  IDOLATRY.
life criminal likewise. Yesterday's deed was the logical outcome of a course of thought extending over
many yesterdays.  Why, then, had not his present
gloom  impended also, and warned him  beforehand?
Because, while parleying with  the Devil, he looks
angelic; but having given our soft-spoken interlocutor
house-room, he makes up for lost time by becoming
direfully sincere!
On first facing the world in his new guise, Helwyse
felt an embarrassment which he fancied everybody
must remark.  But, in fact (as he was not long discovering), he was no longer remarkable; the barber had
wiped out his individuality.  It was what he had
wished, and yet his insignificance annoyed him. The
stare of the world had put him out of countenance; yet
when it stopped staring he was still unsatisfied.  What
can be the solution of this paradox?
It perhaps was the occasion of his seeking the upper
part of the city, where houses were more scarce and
there were fewer people to be unconcerned! In country solitudes he could still be the chief figure. He
entered Broadway at the point where Grace Church
stands, and passed on through the sparsely inhabited
region now known as Union Square.  The streets hereabouts were but roughly marked out, and were left in
many places to the imagination.  On the corner of
Twenty-third Street was a low whitewashed inn, whose




THROUGH A GLASS.               141
spreading  roof overshadowed the girdling  balcony.
Farmers' wagons were housed beneath the adjoining
shed, and one was drawn up before the door, its driver
conversing with a personage in shirt-sleeves and straw
hat, answering to the name of Corporal Thompson.
Helwyse perhaps stopped at the Corporal's hospitable
little establishment to rest himself and get some breakfast; but whether or not, his walk did not end here,
but continued up Broadway, and after passing a large
kitchen-garden (whose owner, a stout Dutchman, was
pacing its central path, smoking a long clay pipe which
he took from his. lips only to growl guttural orders to
the gardeners who Were stooping here and there over
the beds), emerged into open country, where only an
occasional Irish shanty broke the solitude.
How long the young man walked he never knew;
but at length, from the summit of a low hill, he looked
northwest and saw the gleam of Hudson River. Leaving the road he struck across rocky fields which finally
brought him to the river-bank. A stony promontory
jutted into the water, and on this (having clambered to
its outer extremity) Helwyse sat down, his feet overhanging the swirling current. The tide was just past
the food.
About two hundred yards up stream, to the northward, stood a small wooden house, on the beach in
front of.which a shabby old mariner was bailing out




142                  IDOLATRY.
his boat. Southwards, some miles away, curved the
shadowed edge of the city, a spire mounting here and
there, a pencilled mist of smoke from chimneys, a fringe
of thready masts around the farthest point. In front
slid ceaselessly away the vast sweep of levelled water,
and still it came undiminished on. The opposing shore
was a mile distant, its rocky front gradually gaining
abruptness and height until lost round the northern
curve.  But directly opposite Helwyse's promontory,
the stony wall was for some way especially precipitous
and high, its lofty brink serried with a thick phalanx
of trees.
This spot finally monopolized the adventurer's attention; had he been in Germany, he would have looked
for gray castle-towers rising behind the foliage.  The
place looked inaccessible and romantic, and was undeniably picturesque.  New York was far enough away
to be mistaken for -- say — Alexandria; while the
broad river certainly took its rise in as prehistoric an
age as the Nile itself. Perhaps in the early morning
of the world some chieftain built his stronghold there,
and fought notable battles and gave mighty feasts; and
later married, and begat stalwart sons, or a daughter
beautiful as earth and sky! Where to-day were her
youth and beauty, her loving noble heart, her warm
melodious voice, her eyes full of dark light? Why
were there no such women now? -not warped, imnper



THROUGH A GLASS.              143
feet, only half alive in body and spirit; but charged
from the heart outwards with pure divine vitality,natures vivid as fire, yet by strength serene!
"Why did not I live when she lived, to marry her?"
muttered Helwyse in a dream. "A woman whose infinite variety age could not alter nor custom stale! A
true wife would have kept me from error. What man
can comprehend the world, if he puts half the world
away?  Now it is too late; she might have helped
me rise to greatness, but not to bear disgrace. Al,
Balder Helwyse, poor fool! you  babble as if she
stood before you to take or leave.  You rise to greatness?  You never had the germs of greatness in
you! You are so little that not the goddess Freya
herself could have made you tall! Through what delusion did you fancy yourself better than any other
worm? "
There was an interval, not more than a rod or two in
width, in the tree-hedge which lined the opposite cliff.
Through this one might get a narrow glimpse of what
lay beyond. A strip of grassy lawn extended in front
of what seemed to be the stone corner of a house. The
distance obscured detail, but it looked massively built,
though not after the modern style. As Helwyse gazed,
sharpening his eyes to discern more clearly, he saw a
figure moving across the lawn directly towards him.
Advancing to the brink of the cliff, it there paused and




144                  IDOLATRY.
seemed'to return his glance. Heiwyse could not tell
whether it were man or woman. Had the river only
been narrower!
The next moment he remembered his telescope, and,
taking it from its case, he was at a bound within one
hundred yards of the western shore. Man or woman?
he steadied the glass on his knee and looked again.
A woman, surely, - but how strangely dressed! Such
a costume had not been in vogue since Damascus was
a new name in men's mouths.  Balder gazed and gazed.
Accurately to distinguish the features was impossible,tantalizingly so; for the gazer was convinced that she
was both young and beautiful.  Her motions, her bearing, the graceful peculiarity of her garb, -a hundred
nameless evidences made it sure.  How delightful to
watch her in her unconsciousness! yet Helwyse felt a
delicacy in thus stealing on her without her knowledge
or consent.  But the misgiving was not strong enough
to shut up his telescope; perhaps it added a zest to the
enjoyment.
"The very princess you were just now dreaming of!
the most beautiful and complete woman! Would I
were the prince to win thee!"
This aspiration was whispered, as though its object
were within conversable distance. Balder could be
imaoinative enough when the humor took him.
Hardly had the whisper passed his lips when he saw




THROUGH A GLASS.                145
the princess majestically turn her lovely head, slowly
and heedfully, until her glance seemed directly to meet
his own.  His cheeks burned; it was as if she had
actually overheard him.  Was she gracious or offended?
He saw her stretch towards him  her arms, and then,
with a gesture of beautiful power, clasp her hands and
draw them in to her bosom.
Prince Balder's hand trembled, the telescope slipped;
the quick effort to regain it lent it an impetus that
shot it far into the water.  It had done its work and
was gone forever.  The beautiful princess was once
more a vague speck across a mile of rapid river; now,
even the speck had moved beyond the trees and was
out of sight!
The episode had come so unexpectedly, and so quickly
passed, that now it seemed never to have been at all!
But Helwyse had yielded himself unreservedly to the
influence of the moment. Following so aptly the fanciful creation of his thought, the apparition had acquired peculiar significance. The abrupt disappearance
afflicted him like a positive loss.
Did he, then, soberly believe himself and the princess to have exchanged  glances (not to speak of
thoughts) across a river a mile wide?  Perhaps he
merely courted a fancy from which the test of reason
was deliberately withheld.  Spirits not being amenable
to material laws, what was the odds (so far as ex7                             J




146                 IDOLATRY.
change of spiritual sentiment was concerned) whether
the prince and princess were separated by miles or
inches?
But however plausible the fancy, it was over. Helwyse leaned back on the rock, drew his hat over his
eyes, folded his hands beneath his head, and appeared
to sleep.




XIV.
THE TOWER OF BABEL.
IN  a perfect state of society, where people will
think and act in harmony with only the purest
esthetic laws, a knowledge of stenography and photography will suffice for the creation of perfect works
of art.  But until that epoch comes, the artist must
be content to do the grouping, toning, and proportioning of his picture for himself, under penalty of
redundancy and confusion. People nowadays seldom
do or think the right thing at the fitting moment;
insomuch that the biographer, if he would be intelligible, must use his own discretion in arranging his
materials.
Now, in view  of the rough shaking which late
events had given Balder and his opinions, it is doing
no violence to probability to fancy him  taking an
early opportunity to pass these opinions in review.
It would be easy, by a glance at the magic ring, to
reproduce his meditations just as they passed through
his brain.  Brevity and pertinence, however, counsel
us to recall a dialogue which had taken place about
three years before.




148                   IDOLATRY.
Balder and his father were then in the North of
England; and the latter (who never concerned himself
with any save the plainest and most practical philosophy) was not a little startled at an analogy drawn by
his son between the cloud-cap on Helvellyn's head
and the Almighty!  Premising that the cloud-cap,
though apparently stable, was really created by the
continuous passage of warmer air through a cold region
around the summit of the mountain, whereby it was
for a moment condensed into visibility and then swept
on, —having postulated  this  fact, and disregarding
the elder's remark that he believed not a word of it,
-Balder went on to say that God was only a set
of attributes, —in a word, the perfection of all human
attributes, — and not at all an individual!
" And what has that to do with your cloud-making
theory?" demanded Thor, with scorn.
"The perfect human attributes," replied Balder, unruffled, "correspond to the region of condensation,the cold place, you understand."
"'Do they? Well?"
"The constant condensation of the warm  current
from  below  corresponds to the taking on of these
attributes by a ceaseless succession of human souls.
Filling out the Divine character, they lose identity,
and so make room for others."
"What are these attributes?"




THE TOWER OF BABEL.               149
"They are ineffable, - they are omniscience, -the
comprehension of the whole creative idea."
"You expect me to believe that, -eh?" growled
Thor.
"If I could believe you understood it, dear old
sceptic!" returned Balder, with affectionate irreverence,
throwing his arm across his father's broad shoulders.
"I say that every soul of right capacity, living for
culture, and not afraid of itself, will at last reach that
highest point.  It is the sublime goal of man, and no
human life is complete unless in gaining it.  Mnany
fail, but not all.  I will not!  No, I am  not blasphemous; I think life without definite aim not worth
having; and that aim, the highest conceivable."
Thor, having stared in silence at his descendant,
came out with a stentorian Viking laugh, which Balder
sustained with perfect good-humor.
"Ho, ho!-the devil is in you, son!- in those
black eyes of yours, — ho, ho!  No other Helwyse
ever had such eyes, — or such ideas either!  Well,
but  supposing you passed the condensation point,
what then?"
Balder, who was entirely in earnest about the matter, answered gravely,"I cease to be; but what was I becomes the pure,
life-giving, spiritual substance, and enters into fresh
personalities, and so passes up again in endless circulation."




150                  IDOLATRY.
"Hum! and how with the evil ones, boy?"
"As with all waste matter; they are cast aside, and,
as distinct souls, are gradually annihilated. But they
may still manure the soil, and involuntarily help the
growth of others. Sooner or later, in one or another
form, all come into use."
"For all I see, then," quoth Thor, " your devils come
to the same end as your gods!"
" There is the same kind of difference," returned the
philosopher, "as between light and earth, - both of
which help the growth of flowers; but light gives
color and beauty, earth only the insipid matter.  I
would rather be the light."
"Another thing," proceeded Thor, ignoring this distinction; "admitting all else, how do you account for
your region of condensation?"
"By the necessity of perfection," answered Balder,
after some consideration.  "There would be no meaning in existence unless it tended towards perfection.
But you have hit on the unanswerable question."
Thor shook his head  and  huge grizzled  beard.
"German University humbug!" growled  he. "Get
you into a scrape some day. The cloud's not made
in that way, I tell you! Come, let's go back to the
inn."
"Take my arm," said Balder; and as together they
descended the spur of the mountain, he added lovingly,




THE TOWER OF BABEL.             151
"I'll bring no clouds across your sky, my dear old
man!"  So the hospitable inn received them.
The discussion between the two was never renewed;
but Balder held to his creed. He elaborated and fortified what had been mere outline before. No dogma
can be conceived which many circumstances will not
seem to confirm and justify. But we cannot attempt
to keep abreast of Balder's deductions. There are as
many theological systems as individual souls; and no
system can be wholly apprehended by any one save its
author.
Mastery of men and things,- supreme knowledge
to the end of supreme power,  such seems to have
been his ambition, - an ambition too abstract and
lofty for much rivalry.  Nature and human nature
were at once his laboratory and his instruments. His
senses were to him outlets of divinity. The good and
evil of such a scheme scarce need pointing out. It
was the apotheosis of self-respect; but self-respect
raised to such a height becomes self-worship; human vision dazzles at the sublimity of the prospect;
at the moment of greatest weakness the soul arrogates
invincible power, and falls! For, the mightier man is,
the more absolutely does he need the support of a
mightier Man than he can ever be.
No doubt Balder had often been,assailed by doubts
and weariness; the path had seemed too long and




152                   IDOLATRY.
arduous, and he had secretly pined for some swift
issue from perplexity and delay.  In such a moment
was it that the voice of darkness gained his ear, and,
like a will-o'-the-wisp, lured him to calamity. Verily,
it is not easy to be God. Only builders of the Tower
of Babel know the awfulness of its overthrow.
Balder's spirit lay prostrate among the ruins, too
stunned and bewildered to see the reason or justice of
his fall.  Such a state is dangerous, for, the better
part of the mind being either occupied with its disaster or stupefied by it, the superficial part is readily
moved  to  folly  or extravagance, -to  deeds and
thoughts which  a saner moment would scout and
ridicule.  Well is it, then, if the  blind  steps are
guided to better foothold than they know  how  to
choose.  Angels are said to be particularly watchful
over those who sleep; perhaps, also, during the darkness which follows on moral perversion.




xv.
CHARON'S FERRY.
A    FTER lying motionless for half an hour, Balder,
suddenly sat upright and settled his hat on his
head. A new purpose had come to him which, arriving later than it might have done, made him wish to
act upon it without delay.
The old mariner had by this time bailed out his
boat, and, having shipped a mast in the forward thwart,
was dropping down stream. As he neared the promontory Balder hailed him:" Hullo! skipper, take me across?"
The skipper, without replying, steered shorewards,
the other clambering down the rock to meet him.
After a brief parley, during which the old fellow
closely scrutinized his intending passenger from head
to foot, a bargain was struck, and they put forth,
tacking diagonally across stream. For Balder, having
charged his imagination with castles, warlike chieftains, and beautiful princesses, had finally arrived at
the conclusion that the stone house was an enchanter's
castle; the figure he had seen, an imprisoned lady;
7*




154                 IDOLATRY.
himself, a knight-errant bound to rescue her and give
the wicked enchanter his deserts. This idea possessed
his brain for the moment more vividly than do realities
most men. The plumed helmet was on his head, he
glittered with  shining  arms and sword, his heart
warmed and throbbed with visions of conflict and bold
emprise.  The commonplace assumed an aspect of
grandeur and magnificence in harmony with his chivalric mania. The leaky craft in which he sat became
a majestic barge; the skipper, some wrinkled Charon
who doubtless had ferried many a brave knight to his
death beneath yonder castle's walls. That seeming
birch-stump on the farther shore was the castle champion, armed cap-a-pie in silver harness and ready with
drawn sword to do battle against all comers. Trim the
sail, ferryman, and steer thy skilfullest!
The kind of insanity which sees in outward manifestation the fantasies of the mind is an affection incident at times to every one. An artist sees beauties in
a landscape, an artisan in pulleys and levers, and either
may be so far insane in the eyes of the other. Nature
discovers grandeur, beauty, or truth according as the
quality abides in the seer. In this view Balder or Don
Quixote was no more insane than other people. Their
eyes bore true witness to what was in their minds, and
the sanest eyes can do no more. Their minds were, perhaps, out of focus; but who can cast the first stone?




CHARON'S FERRY.                155
The skipper, when not masquerading as Charon, was
a lean, brown, and wrinkled old salt, neither complete
nor clean of garb, and bulging as to one lank cheek
with a quid of tobacco. At first he sat silent, dividing
his attention between the conduct of his boat and his
passenger.
"Whereabouts will yer land, Captain?" he asked
when they were fairly under way.
"Wherever there is a path upwards. Who is the
owner of the castle?"
" The castle? Well, there ain't many rightly knows
just what his name is," answered Charon, cocking his
gray eye rather quizzically.  "Some says one thing,
some another. I have heard tell he was Davy Jones
himself 1"
" Have you ever seen him?"
"Well, I don't know; I've seen something that
might have been him; but there's no telling! he can
fix himself up to look like pretty much anything, they
say. There ain't many calls up to the castle, anyway."
" Why not?"
"Well, there's a big wall all around- the place, for
one thing, and never a gate in it; so without yer dives
under ground and up again, there don't seem no easy
way of getting in."
"Does the owner never come out, then?"




156                   IDOLATRY.
" Well, he can get out, I expect, when he wants to,"
replied the wrinkled humorist, with a weather-beaten
grin.  "They do say he whips off on a broomstick
about once a month and steers for Bos-ton!"  His
fashion of utterance was a leisurely sing-song, like the
roll of a vessel anchored in a ground-swell.
"Why does he go there? " demanded Prince Balder,
with the air of finding nothing extravagant or improbable in the sailor's yarn.  The latter (a little doubting
whether his interlocutor were a simpleton or a " deep
one ") answered, after a moment's pause,- to replenish
his imagination perhaps,"Well, in course, I knows nothing what he does;
but they do say he coasts around to all the ho-tels and
overhauls the log.  He's been laying for some one this
twenty year. My idea, it's about time he hailed him!"
"What does he want with him? "
" Well, yer see, what folks say is, this chap had
played some game or other off on Davy; so Davy he
puts a rod in pickle and vows he'd be even with the
chap, yet.
"Yer see,-I'11 tell yer," continued Charon, leaning forward on his knee and speaking confidentially;
"just as this chap was putting off, —with some of
Davy's belongings, likely, -  Davy up and cuts a slice
of flesh and blood off him.  Well, he takes this slice
and fixes it up one way or another, and makes a witch




CHARON'S FERRY.                157
out of it, -handsome as she can be, - enough to draw
a chap's heart right out through his jacket.  Now,
being as she's his own flesh and blood, d' yer see, this
chap I'm telling yer on's bound to come back after
her afore he dies.  Well, soon as Davy gets hold on
him, he ups with him to the place yonder and outs
with the witch.' Here yer are, my dear friend!' says
he (as civil as may be),'here's yer own flesh and
blood a-waiting for yer 1' Well, the chap grabs for her,
and once he touches her there ain't no letting go no
more.  Off she starts on her broomstick, he along behind, till they gets over Hell gate-"  Charon checked
himself, made an ominous downward gesture with his
right forefinger, and emphasized it by spitting solemnly
to leeward.
" Did you ever meet him,- this  man?" asked
Helwyse, rousing himself from  a brown study and
looking Charon in the eyes.
" Well, now, I could n't tell for certain as I ever met
him," replied the other, returning the look with an odd
wrinkling of the features.  "But it's nigh on twenty
year that I fetched a man across this very spot, and
back again in the evening, that might have been him.
Leastways, he was the last caller ever I took over to
that house."
"I am the first since he- eh?"
" Well, yer are; and, Captain, - no offence to you, 




158                 IDOLATRY.
but allowing for a lot of hair he had, he was like enough
to you to be yer twin brother!"
"Or even myself! So Davy Jones goes by the name
of Doctor Glyphic in these parts, does he? " said Balder,
with a sudden, incisive smile, which almost cut through
the old ferryman's self-possession.  The boat at the
same moment glided into a little cove, and the passenger
jumped ashore.  Charon stood deferentially touching
his weather-stained hat, too much mystified to speak.
But the fare which Helwyse handed him restored his
voice.
" Thank yer, Captain, - thank yer kindly! - hope no
offence, Captain,- a chap picks up a deal of gossip in
twenty year, and -"
" No offence in the world!" cried Helwyse; "I take
you for a powerful enchanter, who seems to steer one
way, when he is in fact taking his passenger in another.
Where are you bound? "
"Well, I was dropping down a bit to see if the
schooner ain't around yet. She'd ought to be in by
now, if nothing ain't runned into her in the fog."
Helwyse paused a moment, eying Charon sharply.
"The schooner'Resurrection,"' he began, and, seeing he
had hit the mark, continued, " was run into last night
on Long Island Sound, and had her bowsprit carried
away. But no serious damage was done, and she'll be
in by night, if the wind holds."




CHARON'S FERRY.               159
With this he bade the awe-stricken old yarn-spinner
farewell, and, with secret laughter at his bewilderment,
turned to the narrow zigzag path that climbed the bank,
passing the birch-stump champion without a glance of
recognition.  A few vigorous minutes brought him to
the summit, whence, facing round, he saw the broad
river crawl beneath him; the little boat, with Charon
in the stern, drift downwards; and beyond, the whole
rough length of Manhattan Island.
A few days before Thor Helwyse's departure for
Europe (some four years after his wife's death) he had
left a certain little boy and girl in charge of the nurse,
- a woman in whose faithfulness he placed the utmost
confidence, - and had crossed from Brooklyn to New
Jersey, to say good by to Brother Hiero. Returning
at night he found one of the children- his son Balder
- locked up in the nursery; the nurse and the little
girl had disappeared, nor did Thor again set eyes on
either of them.
Balder, as he grew up, often questioned his father
concerning various events which had happened beyond
the reach of his childish memory; and among other
stories, no doubt this of the farewell visit to Uncle
Glyphic had been often told with all the details.  By
no miracle, therefore, but simply by an acute mental
process, associating together time, place, and description,
was Balder enabled so to dumfounder old Charon.




160                   IDOLATRY.
Embarking on a phantom  quest, his brain full of
whimsical visions, Balder had  thus  unexpectedly
stepped into the path of his legitimate affair.  The
accident (for no better reason than that it was such)
inspired him with a superficial cheerfulness.  He had
landed some distance below his uncle Glyphic's house,
- for such indeed it was, - and he now took his way
towards it through trees and underbrush.  It was so
situated, and so thickly surrounded with foliage, as to
be visible from no point in the vicinity.  Had the site
been chosen with a view to concealment, the builder
could not have succeeded better.  Remembering the
eccentricity of his uncle's character, as portrayed in
many an anecdote, Balder would not have been surprised to find him living under ground, or in a pyramid.
On arriving at the wall whereof the ferryman had
told him, he found it a truly formidable affair, some
twelve feet high and built of brick. To scale it without
a ladder was impossible; but Balder, never doubting
that there was a gate somewhere, set out in search
of it.
It was tiresome walking over the uneven ground
and through obstructing bushes, branches, and stumps.
The tall brick barrier seemed as interminable as unbroken.  How  many houses, thought Balder, might
have been built from  the material thus wasted! If
ever he came into possession of the place, he resolved




CHARON'S FERRY.               161
to present the brick to his friend Charon, that he
might replace his wooden shanty with something more
durable and convenient, and perhaps build a dock for
the schooner " Resurrection " to lie in. It must have
taken a fortune to put up such a wall; were the enclosure proportionally valuable, it was worth while
crossing the ocean to see it. Still more wall! fully a
mile of it already, and yet further it rambled on
through leafy thickets.  But no signs of a gate 
"I believe the Devil really does live here!' exclaimed Balder, in impatient heat; "and the only way
in or out is on a broomstick, -or by diving under
ground, as Charon said "
Stumbling onwards awhile farther, he suddenly came
again upon the river-bank, having skirted the whole
length of the wall. There was actually no getting in!
The castle was impregnable.
Helwyse sat down at the foot of a birch-tree which
grew a few yards from the wall.
" How does my uncle manage about his butcher and
baker, I wonder! He might at least have provided a
derrick for victualling his stronghold.  Perhaps he
hauls up provisions by ropes over the face of the cliff.
No doubt, Charon knew about it.  Shall I go down
and look?"
It was provoking - having come so far to call on a
relative - to be put off with a mile or two of brick
it




162                   IDOLATRY.
wall. The gate must have been walled up since his
father's time, for Thor had never mentioned any deficiency in that respect.  But Balder's determination
was piqued, - not to mention his curiosity. Had the
path from Mr. MacGentle's office to Doctor Glyphic's
door been straight and unobstructed, the young man
might have wandered aside and never reached the end.
As it was, he was goaded into the resolution to see his
uncle at all hazards.  An additional spur was the
thought of the gracious apparition which he had seen
or dreamt he saw -from  the farther bank.  Was
she indeed but an apparition?- or the single reality
amidst the throng of fantasies evoked by his overwrought mind<? - beaconing him through misty errors
to a fate better than he knew! In all seriousness, who
could she be? Had Doctor Glyphic crowned his eccentricities by marrying, and begetting a daughter?
These speculations were interrupted by the clear,
joyous note of a bird, just above Balder's head.  It
was such a note as might have been uttered by a paradisical cuckoo  with  the breath of a brighter world
in his throat.  Looking up, he saw a beautiful little
fowl perched on the topmost twig of the birch-tree.  It
had a slender bill, and on its head a crest of splendid
feathers, which it set up at Balder in a most coquettish
manner.  The next moment it flew over the wall, and
from the farther side warbled an invitation to follow.




CHARON'S FERRY.               163
Although he could not fly, Balder reflected that he
could climb, and that the top of the tree would show
him more than he could see now. The birch looked
tolerably climbable and was amply high; as to toughness, he thought not about it. Beneath what frivolous
disguises does destiny mask her approach! Discretion
is a virtue; yet, had Balder been discreet enough to
examine the tree before getting into it, the ultimate
consequences are incalculable!
As it was (and marvelling why he had not thought of
doing it before) he set stoutly to work, and, despite his
jack-boots, was soon among the upper branches. The
birch trembled and groaned unheeded.  The bird (an
Egyptian bird,- a hoopoe,- descendant of a pair
brought by Doctor Glyphic from the Nile a quarter of a
century ago), - the hoopoe was fluttering and warbling
and setting its brilliant cap at the young man more captivatingly than ever. A glance over the enclosure showed
a beautifully fertile and luxurious expanse, damasked
with soft green grass and studded with flowers and
trees. A few hundred yards away billowed the white
tops of an apple-orchard in full bloom.  Southward,
half seen through boughs and leaves, rose an anomalous structure of brick, glass, and stone, which could
only be the famous house on whose design and decoration old Hiero Glyphic had spent years and fortunes.
The tract was like an oasis in a forbidding land.




164                  IDOLATRY.
The soil had none of the sandy and clayey consistency
peculiar to New Jersey, but was deep and rich as an
English valley. The sunshine rested more warmly and
mellowly here than elsewhere.  The southern breeze
acquired a tropical flavor in loitering across it.  The
hoopoe had seemed out of place on the hither side the
wall, but now looked as much at home as though the
Hudson had been the Nile indeed.
"My uncle," said Balder to himself, as he swayed
among the branches of his birch-tree, "has really succeeded very well in transporting a piece of Egypt to
America. Were I on the other side of the wall, no
doubt I might appreciate it also!"
The hoopoe  responded  encouragingly, the  tree
cracked, and Balder felt with dismay that it was
tottering beneath him. There was no time to climb
down again. With a dismal croak, the faithless birch
leaned slowly through the air. There was nothing to
be done but to go with it; and Balder, even as he
descended, was able to imagine how absurd he must
appear. The tree fell, but was intercepted at half its
height by the top of the wall. The upper half of the
stem, with its human fruit still attached to it, bent
bow-like towards the earth, the trunk not being quite
separated from the root.
Helwyse had thus far managed to keep his presence
of mind, and now, glancing downwards, he saw the




CHARON'S FERRY.               165
ground not eight feet below.  He loosed his hold, and
the next instant stood in the soft grass.  The birch
had been his broomstick.  Meanwhile the hoopoe, with
a triumphant note. flew off towards the house to tell
the news.




XVI.
LEGEND AND CHRONICLE.
EIERO  GLYPHIC'S house came not into the
world complete at a birth, but was the result
of an  irregular growth, progressing through many
years. Originally a single-gabled edifice, its only peculiarity had been that it was brick instead of wooden.
Here, red and unornamented as the house itself, the
future Egyptologist was born.  The parallel between
him  and his dwelling was maintained more or less
closely to the end.
He was the first pledge of affection between his
mother and father, and the last also; for shortly after
his advent the latter parent, a retired undertaker by
profession, failed from  this world.  The widow was
much younger than her husband, and handsome to
boot. Nevertheless, several years passed before she
married again. Her second lord was likewise elderly,
but differed from the first in being enormously wealthy.
The issue of this union was a daughter, the Helen of
our story, a pretty, dark-eyed little thing, petted and
indulged by all the family, and reigning undisputed
over all.




LEGEND AND CHRONICLE.            167
Meanwhile the old brick house had been deserted, Mrs.
Glyphic having accompanied her second husband to his
sumptuous residence in Brooklyn. But in process of
time Hiero (or, as he was then called, Henry) took it into
his head to return to the original family mansion and
live there. No objection was made; in truth, Henry's
oddities, awkwardnesses, and propensity to dabble in
queer branches of research and experiment may have
allayed the parting pangs. Back he blundered, therefore, to the banks of the Hudson, and established himself in his birtlplace. What he did there during the
next few years will never be known. Grisly stories
about the man in the brick house were current among
the country people.  A  devil was said to be his
familiar friend; nay, it was whispered that he himself
was the arch-fiend! But nothing positively supernatural, or even unholy, was ever proved to have taken
place.  The recluse had the command of as much
money as he could spend, and no doubt he wrought
with it miracles beyond the vulgar comprehension.
His mind had no more real depth than a looking-glass
with a crack in it, and its images were disjointed and
confused. There are many such men, but few possess
unlimited means of carrying their crack-brained fancies
into fact.
During this   which may be called the second —
period of Glyphic's career, he made several anomalous




168                   IDOLATRY.
additions to the brick house, all after designs of his
own.  He moreover furnished it anew throughout, in a
manner that made the upholsterers stare.  Each room
so reads the legend - was fitted up in the style of a
different country, according to Glyphic's notion of it!
He was said to live in one apartment or another according as it was his whim to be Spaniard, Turk, Pussian, Hindoo, or Chinaman.  He also applied himself
to gardening, and enclosed seven hundred acres of
ground adjoining the house with a picket-fence, forerunner of the famous brick wall.  The whole tract was
dug out and manured to the depth of many feet, till
it was by far the most fertile spot in the State.  The
larger trees were not disturbed, but the lesser were
forced to give place to new and rare importations from
foreign countries. Gorgeous were the hosts of flowers,
like banks of sunset clouds; the lawns showed the
finest turf out of Englland; there was a kitchen-garden
rich and big enough to feed an army of epicures all
their lives.  In short, the place was a concentrated
extract of the world at large, where one might at the
same moment be a recluse and a cosmopolitan.  Here
might one live independent of the world, yet sipping
the cream thereof; and might persuade himself that all
beyond these seven hundred enchanted acres was but a
diffused reflection of the concrete existence between
the cliff and the fence.




LEGEND AND CHRONICLE.               169
But to this second period succeeded finally the third,
that which witnessed the birth and growth of the
Egyptian mania.  Its natal moment has not been precisely determined; perhaps it was a gradual accretion.
Mr. Glyphic's relatives in Brooklyn were one day
electrified by the news that the quondam  Henry 
now  Hiero-purposed instant departure for Europe
and Egypt.  Before starting, however, he built the
brick wall round his estate, shuttingi it out forever
from  human eyes.  Then he vanished, and for nine
years was seen no more.
His return was heralded by the arrival at the port
of New York of a mountain of freight, described in the
invoice as the property of Doctor Hiero Glyphic of
New Jersey.  The boxes, as they stood piled together
on the wharf, might have furnished timber sufficient to
build a town. They contained the fruits of Doctor
Glyphic's antiquarian researches.
The  Doctor himself -where he  picked up his
learned title is unknown -was accompanied by a
slender, swarthy young factotum  who answered to the
name of Manetho.  He was introduced to the Brooklyn relatives as the pupil, assistant, and adopted son
of Hiero Glyphic.  The latter, physically broadened,
browned, and thickened by his travels, was intellectually the same good-natured, fussy, flighty original as
ever; shallow, enthusiastic, incoherent, energetic.
8




170                  IDOLATRY.
He and his adopted son shut themselves up behind
the brick wall; but it soon transpired that extensive
additions were making to the old house. Beyond this
elementary fact conjecture had  the field to itself.
Both  architects and  builders were imported from
another State and sworn to secrecy, while the high wall
and the hedge of trees baffled prying eyes. Quantities
of red granite and many blocks of precious marbles
were understood to be using in the work. The opinion
gained that such an Oriental palace was building as
never had been seen outside an Arabian fairy-tale.
By and by the work was done, the workmen disappeared.  But whoever hoped that now the mystery
would be revealed, and the Oriental palace be made the
scene of a gorgeous house-warming, was disappointed.
The dwellers behind the wall emerged not from their
seclusion, nor were others invited to relieve it.  Tn due
course of time Doctor Glyphic's worthy step-father died.
The widow  and her daughter continued to live in
Brooklyn until the former's death, which took place a
few years afterwards. Then Helen came to her brother,
and the Brooklyn house was put under lock and key,
and so remained till Helen's marriage, when it was set
in order for the bridal pair. But Thor's wife died as
they were on the point of moving thither, and he sold
it four years later and left America forever.
After his departure less was known than before of




LEGEND AND CHRONICLE.            171
how things went on behind the brick wall. The gateway was filled in with masonry. No one was ever seen
entering the enclosure or leaving it; though it was
supposed that, somehow or other, communication was
occasionally had with the outside world. As knowledge dwindled, legend grew, and wild were the tales
told of the invisible Doctor and his foster-son. In his
youth, the former had been suspected of simple witchcraft, but he was not let off so easily now. Manetho
was first dubbed a genie whom the Doctor had brought
out of Egypt. Afterwards it was hinted that these two
worthies were in fact one and the same demon, who
by some infernal jugglery was able to appear twain
during the daytime, but resumed his proper shape at
night, and cut up all manner of unholy capers.
By another version, Doctor Glyphic died in Egypt,
not before bargaining with the Prince of Darkness that
his body should return home in charge of a condemned
soul under the guise of Manetho. During the day,
affirmed these theorists, the body was inspired by the
soul with phantom  life; but became a mummy at
night, when the condemned soul suffered torments till
morning. With sunrise the ghastly drama began anew..
This state of things must continue until the sun shone
all night long within the brick wall enclosure.
A third, more moderate account is that to which we
have already listened from Charon's lips. And he per



172                  IDOLATRY.
haps built on a broader basis of truth than did the
other yarn-spinners.  But under whatever form  the
legend appeared, there was always mingled with it a
vaguely mysterious whisper relating to the alleged
presence in the Doctor's Den (so the enclosure was
nicknamed) of an apparition in female form.  What
or whence she was no one pretended soberly to conjecture. Even her personal aspect was the subject of
vehement dispute; some maintaining her to be of more
than human beauty, while others swore by their heads
that she was so hideous fire would not burn her!
These damned her for a malignant witch; those upheld
her as a heavenly angel, urged by love divine to expiate, through voluntary suffering, the nameless crimes
of the demoniac Doctor.  But unless the redemption
were effected within a certain time, shemust be swallowed up with him in common destruction.  Were the
how and wherefore of these alternatives called in question, the answer was a wise shake of the head!
The gentle reader will believe no one of the fantastic
legends here recorded; possibly they were not believed
by their very fabricators.  They are useful only as
tending to show the moral atmosphere of the house
and its occupants. There is sometimes a subtile symbolic element inwoven with such tales, which - though
not the truth - helps us to apprehend the truth when
we come to know it. Moreover, the fanciful parts of




LEGEND AND CHRONICLE.              173
history are to the facts as clouds to a landscape; a
picture is incomplete without them; they aid in bringing out the distances, and cast lights and shadows over
tracts else harsh and bare.
Beyond what he had gathered from  the ancient
mariner, Balder Helwyse knew nothing of these fearful fables.  This perhaps accounted for the boldness
wherewith he pursued his way towards the mysterious
house, following in the airy wake of the clear-throated
little hoopoe.




XVII.
FACE TO  FACE.
FTHE ground-plan of the house was like a capital
-  H placed endwise towards the river. The northern side consisted of the original brick building and
the additions of the second period; the southern was
that stone edifice which so few persons had been lucky
enough to see. The centre or cross-piece comprised
the grand entrance-hall and staircase, heavily panelled
with dark oak, and the floor flagged with squares of
black and white marbles.
This entrance-hall opened eastward into a generous
conservatory, filling the whole square court between
the wings at that end.  The corresponding western
court was devoted to the roomy portico.  Two or
three broad steps mounted to a balcony twenty feet
deep and nearly twice as wide, protected by a lofty
roof supported on slender Moorish columns.  Crossing this, one came to the hall-door, likewise Moorish
in arch and ornamentation.  Considered room by room
and part by part, the house was good and often beautiful; taken as a whole, it was the craziest amalga



FACE TO FACE.                175
mation  of incongruities ever conceived by human
brain.
Balder, approaching from the north, trod enjoyingly
the silken grass.  No misgiving had he; his uncle
would hardly be from home, nor would he be apt to
discredit his nephew's identity. His face had already
been evidence to more than one former knower of
his father, and why not also to his uncle?
The house was more than half a mile in a direct
line from the birch-tree, and presented an imposing
appearance; but on drawing near, the odd architectural
discrepancies became noticeable.  Side by side with
the prosy Americanism of the northern wing, sprang
gracefully the Moorish columns of the portico; beyond, uprose in massive granite, quaintly inscribed
and carved, and strengthened by heavy pilasters, the
ponderous Egyptian features of the southern portion.
The latter was neither storied nor windowed, and, as
Balder conjectured, probably contained but a single
vast room, lighted from within.
Meanwhile there were no signs of an inhabitant,
either in the house or out of it. It wore in parts an
air of emptiness and neglect, not exactly as though
gone to seed, but as if little human love and care had
been expended there. The deep-set windows of the
brick wing, like the sunken eyes of an old woman,
peered at the visitor with dusky forlornness. Lonely




176                    IDOLATRY.
and stern on the other side stood the Egyptian pilasters, as though unused to the eye of man; the hieroglyphics along the cornice intensified the impression
of desertion.  As the young man set foot beneath the
portico, he laid a hand on one of the, slender pillars,
to assure himself that it was real, and not a vision.
Cool, solid marble met his grasp; the building did not
vanish in a peal of thunder, with an echo of demoniac
laughter. Yes, all was real!
But the stillness was impressive, and Balder struck
the pillar sharply with his palm, merely for the sake
of hearing a noise.  There was no answering sound,
so, after a moment's hesitation, he walked to the door,
- which stood ajar, - purposing to call in the aid of
bell and knocker.  Neither of these civilized appliances
was to  be  found.  While debating whether to use
his voice or to enter and use his eyes, the note of the
hoopoe fell on his ear.  An instant after came an
answering note, deeper, sweeter, and  stronger, -it
thrilled to Balder's heart, bringing to  his mind, by
some subtile process, the goddess of the cliff.
He crossed the oak-panelled hall (where the essence
of mediaeval England lingered) and came to the threshold of the conservatory.  It was a scene confusedly
beautiful.  The air, as it touched his face, was tropically warm  and indolent with voluptuous fragrance of
flowers and plants.  Luxuriant shrubs, with broad



FACE TO FACE.                 177
drooping leaves, stood motionless in the heat. Two
palm-trees uplifted their heavy plumes forty feet aloft,
on slender stalks, brushing the high glass roof. In
the midst of the conservatory a pool slumbered between rocky margins, overgrown with a profusion of
reeds, grasses, and water-plants.  There floated the
giant leaves and blossoms of the tropic water-lily;
and on a fragment of rock rising above the surface
dozed a small crocodile, not more than four feet long,
but looking as old, dried up, and coldly cruel as sin
itself!
The place looked like an Indian jungle, and Balder
half expected to see the glancing spots of a tiger
crouching beneath the overarching leaves; or a naked
savage with bow and arrows.  But amid all this vegetable luxuriance appeared no human being, - no animal save the  evil crocodile.  Whence, then, that
melodious voice, - clear essence of nature's sweetest
utterances?
At the left of the conservatory was a door, the entrance to the Egyptian temple.  It was square and
heavy-browed, flanked by short thick columns rising
from a base of sculptured papyrus-leaves, and flowering in lotus capitals.  Three marble steps led to the
threshold, while on either side reclined a sphinx in
polished granite, softened, however, by a delicate flowering vine, which had been trained to cling round their
8*                             L




178                   IDOLATRY.
necks.  On the deep panels of the door were mystic
emblems carved in relief. A line of hieroglyphics inscribed the lintel in deep blue, red, and black,-to
what purport Balder could not divine.
At the opposite side of the conservatory was a corresponding door, veiled by an ample fold of silken
tapestry, cunningly hand-worked in representation of a
moon half veiled in clouds, shining athwart a stormy
sea. By her light a laboring ship was warned off the
rocks to leeward. The room  (one of the later additions) by its external promise might have been the
bower of some fashionable beauty thousands of years
ago.
Balder looked from one of these doors to the other,
doubting at which to apply.  The tapestry curtain was
swept aside at the base, leaving a small passage clear
to the room beyond. In this opening now appeared the
bright-crested head and eyes of the hoopoe, peeping
mischievously at the intruder, who forthwith stepped
down into the conservatory, holding forth to the little
bird a friendly finger.  The bird eyed him critically,
then launched itself on the air, and, alighting on a
spray above his head, warbled out a brilliant call.
Hereupon was heard within a quick rustling movement; the curtain was thrust aside, and a youthful
woman issued forth amongst the warm  plants.  She
was within a few feet of Balder  Helwyse before seem



FACE TO FACE.                 179
ing to realize his presence. She caught herself motionless in an instant.  The sparkle of laughter in her eyes
sank in a black depth of wonder. Her eyes filled
themselves with Balder as a lake is filled with sunshine; and he, the man of the world and philosopher,
could only return her gaze in voiceless admiration.
Were a face and form of primal perfection to appear
among men, might not its divine originality repel an
ordinary observer, used to consider beautiful such abortions of the Creator's design as sin and degeneration
have produced?  Not easily can one imagine what a
real man or woman would look like.  Painting nor
sculpture can teach us; we must learn, if at all, from
living, electric flesh and blood.
This young woman was tall and erect with youthful
majesty. She stood like the rejoicing upgush of a
living fountain. Her contour was subtile with womanly
power,- suggesting the spring of the panther, the glide
of the serpent.  Warm she seemed from the bosom of
nature.  One felt from  her the influence of trees, the
calm of meadows, the high freedom of the blue air, the
happiness of hills.  She might have been the sister of
the sun.
The moulding finger of God seemed freshly to have
touched her face.  It was simple and harmonious as
a chord of music, yet inexhaustible in its variety.  It
recalled no other face, yet might be seen in it the




180                   IDOLATRY.
germs of a mighty nation, that should begin from her,
and among a myriad resemblances evolve no perfect
duplicate. No angel's countenance, but warmest human
clay, which must undergo some change before reaching
heaven.  The sphinx, before the gloom  of her riddle
had dimmed her primal joy, - before men vexed themselves to unravel God's webs from  without instead of
from within, - might have looked thus; or such perhaps was Isis in the first flush of her divinity, - fresh
from Him who made her immortally young and fair.
Her black hair was crowned with a low, compact
turban, — a purple and white twist of some fine cottony substance, striped with gold.  Round her wide,
low brow fitted a band of jewelled gold, three fingers'
breadth, from which at each temple depended a broad,
flat chain of woven coral, following the margin of the
cheeks and falling loose on the shoulders.  A golden
serpent coiled round her smooth throat and drooped its
head low down in her bosom.  Her elastic feet, arched
like a dolphin's back, were sandalled; the bright-colored
straps, crossing one another half-way to the knee, set
dazzlingly off the clear, dusky whiteness of the skin.
From  her shoulders fell a long full robe of purple
byssus, over an underdress of white which reached the
knee.  This tunic was confined at the waist by a hundred-fold girdle, embroidered with rainbow flowers and
fastened in a broad knot below the bosom, the low



FACE TO FACE.                  181
hanging ends heavy with fringe.  The outer robe, with
its long drooping sleeves falling open at the elbow, was
ample enough wholly to envelop the figure, but was
now girded up and one fold brought round and thrust
beneath the girdle in front, to give freedom of motion.
A rare perfume emanated from  her, like the evening
breath of orange-blossoms.
Balder was no unworthy balance to this picture,
though his else stately features showed too much the
stimulus of modern thoulght.  He was eminent by culture; she by nature only.  But Balder's culture had
not greatened him.  Greatness is not of the brain, save
as allied to the deep, pure chords which thrill at the
base of the human symphony.  He might have stood
for our age; she, for that more primitive but profounder era which is at once man's beginning  and
bis goal.
Balder's  eyes could not frankly hold their own
against her gaze of awful simplicity.  All he had ever
done amiss arose and put him to the blush.  Nevertheless, he would not admit his inferiority; instead of
dropping his eyes he closed the soul behind them, and
sharpened  them  with a shallow, out-striking  light.
Without understanding the change, she felt it and was
troubled.  Loftily majestic as were her form  and features, she was feminine to the core, -tender and finely
perceptive. The incisive masculine gaze abashed her.




182                   IDOLATRY.
She raised one hand deprecatingly, and her lips moved,
thoulgh without sound.
He relented at this, and straightway her expression
again shifted, and she smiled so radiantly that Balder
almost looked to see whence came the light! The
wondrous lines of her face curved and softened; all
that was grave vanished.  A tree standing in the sober
beauty of shadow, when  suddenly lit by the sun,
changes as she changed; for sunshine is the laughter
of the world.
The smile refreshed her courage, for she came nearer
and made a sideways movement with her arm, apparently with the expectation that it would pass through
the stalwart young man as readily as through the air.
On encountering solid substance, she drew  startled
back, half in alarm  and wholly in surprise.  Balder
had felt her touch, first as a benediction; then it
chilled him, through  remembrance  of a deed forever debarring him from aught so pure and innocent
as she. The subtleties of his philosophy might have
cajoled him anywhere save in her presence. There, he
felt unmistakably guilty; yet from irrational dread that
she, whose intuitions seemed so swift and deep, might
grasp the cause of his discomposure, he strove to hide
it.  Last of all the world should she know his crime!
Scarce two minutes since their meeting, yet perhaps
a large proportion of their lives had meanwhile been




FACE TO FACE.                 183
charmed away. No word had been spoken,- eyes had
superseded tongues.  Nay, was ordinary conversation
possible with a young goddess such as this?  So perfect seemed her mastery over those profounder elements of intercourse underlying speech, which  are
higher and more direct than the mechanism  of articulate words, that perhaps the latter method was unknown to her.
Nevertheless, one must say something.  But what?
-with what sentence of supreme significance should
he begin? Moreover, what language should he use?
for she, whose look and bearing were so alien to the
land and age, might likewise be a stranger to modern
dialects. But Aryan or Semitic was not precisely at
the tip of Balder's tongue!
In the midst of his embarrassment, the startling
note of the hoopoe pierced his ear, and precipitated
him into asking that great elemental question which
all created things are forever putting to one another,"What is your name?"




XVIII.
THE HOOPOE AND THE CPOCODILE.
"   N NULEMAH!" she answered, laying a finger on
the head of her golden serpent, and uttering
the name as though it were of the only woman in the
world.
But the next moment she found time to realize that
something unprecedented had occurred, and her wonder
trembled on the brink of dismay.
"Speaks in my language!" she exclaimed below her
breath; " but is not Hiero!"
Until Balder's arrival, then, Hiero would seem to
have been the only talking animal she had known.
The singularity of this did not at first strike the young
man. Gnulemah was the arch-wonder; yet she so fully
justified herself as to seem very nature; and by dint of
her magic reality, what else had been wonderful seemed
natural. Balder was in fairy-land.
IHe fell easily into the fairy-land humor.
"I am a being like yourself," said he, with a smile;
"and not dumb like your plants and animals"
"Understood! -answered!" exclaimed Gnulemah




TIHE HOOPOE AND THE CROCODILE.         185
again, in a tremor.  As morning spreads up the sky,
did the sweet blood flow outward to warm her face and
neck. As the blush deepened, her eyelids fell, and she
shielded her beautiful embarrassment with her raised
hands.  A pathos in the simple grace of this action
drew tears unawares to Balder's eyes.
What was in her mind? what might she be?  Had
she lived always in this enchanted spot, companionless
(for poor old Hiero could scarcely serve her turn) and
ignorant perhaps that the world held other beings endowed like herself with human gifts?  Had she vainly
sought throughout nature for some kinship more intimate than nature could yield her, and thus at length
fancied herself a unique, independently created soul,
imperial over all things?  Since her whole world was
comprised between the wall and the river, no doubt she
believed the reality of things extended no further.
In Balder she had found a creature like, yet pleasingly unlike herself, palpable to feeling as to sight, and
gifted with that articulate utterance which till now she
had accounted her almost peculiar faculty. Delightful
might be the discovery, but awesome too, frightening
her back by its very tendency to draw her forward.
Whether or not this were the solution of Gnulemah's
mystery, Balder recognized quiet to be his cue towards
her. Probably he could not do better than to get the
ear of Doctor Hiero, and establish himself upon a




186                  IDOLATRY.
footing more conventional than the present one. His
next step accordingly was to ask after him by name.
She peeped at the questioner between her fingers,
but ventured not quite to emerge from behind them,
as she answered, - her primary attempt at description, -
"IHiero is   Hiero!"
"And how long have you been here?" inquired
Balder with a smile.
Gnulemah forgot her embarrassment in wondering
how so remarkable a creature happened to ask questions whose answers her whole world knew!
"We are always here!" she exclaimed; and added,
after a moment's doubtful scrutiny, " Are you a spirit? "
" An embodied spirit, - yes! " answered he, smiling
again.
" One of those I see beyond," - she pointed towards
the cliff, - "that move and seem to live, but are only
shadows in the great picture? No! for I cannot touch
them  nor speak with them; they never answer me;
they are shadows."  She paused and seemed to struggle with her bewilderment.
"They are shadows!" repeated Helwyse to himself.
Though no Hermetic philosopher, he was aware of a
symbolic truth in the fanciful dogma.  Outside his
immediate circle, the world is a shadow to every man;
his fellow-beings are no more than apparitions, till he




THE HOOPOE AND THE CROCODILE.          187
grasps them  by the hand.  So to Gnulemah the cliff
and the garden wall were her limits of real existence.  The great picture outside could be true for
her only after she had gone forth and felt as well as
seen it.
Fancy aside, however, was not hers a condition
morally and mentally deplorable? Exquisitely developed in body, must not her mind have grown rank with
weeds, -  beautiful perhaps, but poisonous?  Herein
Balder fancied he could trace the one-sided influence
of his crack-brained uncle.  Whether his daughter or
not, Gnulemah was evidently a victim  of his experimental mania.  What particular crotchet could he
have been humoring in this case?  Was it an attempt to get back to the early sense of the human
race?
The materials for such an evolution were certainly
of tempting excellence.  In point of beauty and apparent natural capacity, Gnulemah might claim equality with the noblest daughter of the Pharaohs.  The
grand primary problem of how to isolate her from all
contact with the outside world was, under the existing
circumstances, easy of solution.  Beyond this there
needed  little  positive  treatment.  Her creed must
arise from her own instinctive and intuitive impressions.  Of all beyond the reach of her hands, she
must trust to her eyes alone for information; no mar



188                  IDOLATRY.
vel, therefore, if her conclusions concerning the great
intangible phenomenal of the universe were fantastic as
the veriest heathen myths.  The self-evolved feelings
and impulses of a black-eyed nymph like Gnulemah
were not likely to be orthodox. She was probably no
better than a worshipper of vain delusions and idols
of the imagination.
Her attire - a style of costume such as might have
been the fashion in the days of Cheops or Tuthmosis
- showed a carrying out of the Doctor's whim, - a
matching of the external to the internal conditions of
the age he aimed to reproduce. The project seemed, on
the whole, to have been well conceived and consistently prosecuted.  It was seldom that Uncle Hiero
achieved so harmonious a piece of work; but the idea
showed greater moral obliquity than Balder would have
looked for in the old gentleman.
But there was no deep sincerity in the young man's
strictures. There before him stood the woman Gnulemah, - purple, white, and gold; a vivid, breathing,
warm-hued life; a soul and body rich with Oriental
splendor. There she stood, her hair flowing dark and
silky from beneath her twisted turban, her eyes, - black
melted loadstones; the broad Egyptian pendants gleaming and glowing from temple to shoulder.  The golden
serpent seemed to writhe on her bosom, informed from
its wearer with a subtile vitality. Through all domi



THE HQOPOE AND THE CROCODILE.          189
nated a grand repose, like the calm  of nature, which
storms may prove but not disthrone!
There she stood, - enchanted princess, witch, goddess, —woman at all events, palpable and undeniable.
She must be accepted for what she was, civilized or
uncivilized, heathen or Christian.  She was a perfected
achievement,-vain to argue how she might have been
made better. Who says that an evening cloud, gorgeous in purple and heavenly gold, were more usefully
employed fertilizing a garden-patch?
Balder Helwyse, moreover, was not a simple utilitarian; he was almost ready to make a religion of
beauty.  If he blamed his uncle for shutting up this
superb creature within herself, he failed not to admire
the result of the imprisonment.  He knew hewas beholding as rare a spectacle as ever man's eyes were
blessed withal; nor was he slow to perceive the psychological interest of the situation. To a student of
mankind, if to no one else, Gnulemah was beyond estimation precious.  But had Balder forgotten what fruit
his tree of philosophy had already yielded him?
At all events, he forbore to press his question as to
the whereabouts of Uncle Hiero, who would turn up
sooner or later. It was enough for the present to know
that he still existed.  Meanwhile he would sound the
depths of this fresh nature, undisturbed.
The hoopoe (who had played an important part in




190                   IDOLATRY.
promoting the acquaintance thus far) forsook his perch
above Balder's head, and after hovering for a moment
in mid-air, as if to select the best spot, he alighted on
the mossy cushion at the foot of the twin palm-trees.
Such a couch might Adam and Eve have rejoiced to
find in Paradise.  Balder took the hint, and without
more ado threw himself down there, while Gnulemal
half knelt, half sat beside him, propped on her arm,
her warm fingers buried in the cool moss.  The little
master-of-ceremonies remained, with a fine sense of
propriety, between the two, preening and fluttering his
brilliant feathers and casting diamond glances sidelong.
"You remember nothing before coning to this place,
Gnulemah?"
"Only dream-memories, that grow dimmer. Before
this, I was a spirit in the great picture, and when my
lamp goes out I shall return thither."
"Your lamp, Gnulemah? - what lamp?"
"How can you understand me and yet not know
what I know? My lamp is the light of my life; it
burns always in the temple yonder; when it goes out
my life will become a darkness, for I am Gnulemah,
the daughter of fire!"
"I knew not that my uncle was a poet," muttered
Balder to himself.  "A  daughter of fire, —yes, there
is lightning in her eyes!"  Aloud he said, secretly
alluding to the manner of his descent into the garden, -




THE HOOPOE AND THE CROCODILE.          191
"I dropped from the sky into your world, Gnuleinah.
Though we can talk together, whatever we tell each
other will be new."
She caught the idea of a lifetime spent instructing
this delightful being, and receiving in return instruction from  him.  She entered at once the charming
vista.
"Tell me," she began, bending towards him in her
earnestness, "are there others like you?- are they
bright and beautiful as you are?-or do they look
like Hiero?"
Balder laughed, and flushed, and his heart warmed
pleasurably.  Here was a compliment from  the very
soul of nature.  And albeit the lovely flatterer's experience of men was avowedly most limited, yet her
taste was unvitiated as her sincerity, and her judgment
may therefore have been more valuable than that of
the most practised belle of fashion.  But he answered
modestly, -
" Hiero and I are both men, and there are as many
men as stars in heaven, and as many women as men,myriads of men and women, Gnulemah!"
She lifted her face and hand in eloquent astonishment.
"0, what a world!" she exclaimed in her lowtoned way. "But are the women all like me?"
" There is not one like you," answered Balder, with




192                   IDOLATRY.
the quiet emphasis of conviction.  How refreshing was
it thus to set aside conventionalism! Her ingenuousness brought forth the like from him.
"Have you never wished to go beyond the wall?"
he asked her.
" Yes, often!" she said, fingering the golden serpent
thoughtfully.  " But that could not be unless I put out
the lamp.  Sometimes I get tired of this world, — it
has changed since I first came to it."
" Is it less beautiful  "
" It is smaller than it used to be," said Gnulemah,
pensively.  "Once the house was so high, it seemed to
touch heaven; — see how it has dwindled since then!
And so with other things that are on earth.  The stars
and the sun and clouds, they have not changed!"
"That is a consolation, is it not?" observed Balder, between a smile and a sigh.  Gnulemah was not
the first to charge upon the world the alterations in the
individual; nor the first, either, to find comfort in the
constancy of Heaven.
She went on, won to further confidence by her listener's sympathy, 
"I used to hope the wall would one day become so
low that I might pass over it.  But it has ceased to
change, and is still too high.  Shall I ever see the
other side?"
"It can be broken down if need be. But you might




THE HOOPOE AND THE CROCODILE.         193
go far before finding a world so fair as this.  Perhaps
it would be better to stand on the cliff, and only look
forth across the river."
"I cannot stay always here," returned Gnulemah,
shaking her turbaned head, with its gleaming bandeau
and rattling pendants.  "But no wall is between me
and the sky; the flame of my lamp goes upward, and
why should not Gnulemah?"
"A friend is the only world one does not tire of,"
he replied after a pause.  "You have lacked companions."
Gnulemah glanced down at the hoopoe, who forthwith warbled aloud and fluttered up to her shoulder.
The bird was her companion, and so, likewise, were the
plants and flowers.  Gnulemah could converse with
them  in their own language.  Nature was her friend
and confidant, and intimately communed with her.
All this was conveyed to Balder's apprehension, not
by words, but by some subtile expressiveness of eye
and gesture. Gnulemah could give voiceless utterances
in a manner pregnant and felicitous almost beyond
belief.
"I meet also a beautiful maiden in the lookingglass," she added; "her face and motion are always
the same as my own.  But though she seems to speak,
her voice never reaches me; and she smiles, but only
when I smile; and mourns only when I mourn.  We
9                           M




194                  IDOLATRY.
can never reach each other; but there is more in her
than in my birds and flowers."
"She is the shadow of yourself; no reality, Gnulemah."
" Are we shadows of each other, then? is she weary
of her world, as I of mine? shall we both escape to
some other, - or only pass each into the other's, and
be separated as before?"
Balder, like wise men before him, was at some loss
how to bring his wisdom to bear here. He could not
in one sentence explain the complicated phenomena in
question. Fortunately, however, Gnulemah (who had
apparently not yet learned to appeal from her own to
another's judgment) seemed hardly to expect a solution
to problems upon which she had expended much private thought.
"I have come to look on her as though she were myself, and she tells me secrets which no one else can
know. Some things she tells me that I do not care to
hear, but they are always true. I can see changes in
her face that I feel in my own heart."
"Does she teach you that you grow every day more
beautiful?"  He was willing to prove whether Gnulemah could thus be disconcerted. Many a woman had
he known, surprisingly innocent until a chance word
or glance betrayed profoundest depths.
"Our beauty is like the garden, which is beautiful




THE HOOPOE AND THE CROCODILE.        195
every day, though no day is just like another. But the
changes I mean are in the spirit that looks back at me
from her eyes, when I enter deeply into them."
What connection could, after all, subsist between
beauty and vanity in one who neither had rivals nor
aught to rival for? Doubtless she enjoyed her beauty,
- the more, as her taste was pure of conventional
falsities. How much of worldly experience would it
take to vitiate that integrity in her? Would it not be
better to leave her to end her life, restricted to the
same innocent and lovely companionship which had
been hers thus far? Here the hoopoe, startled at some
movement that Balder made, abandoned his perch on
his mistress's shoulder, and flew to the top of the palmtree. Had the day when such friends would suffice
her needs gone by?
Yes, it was now too late. No one who has beheld
the sun can thenceforth dispense with it. Balder had
shone across the beautiful recluse's path, and linked
her to outside realities by a chain which, whether he
went or stayed, would never break. Flowers, birds,
shadows in the mirror, — less than nothing would
these things be to her from this hour on.
Heretofore the intercourse between the two had been
tentative and incoherent, - a doubtful, aimless grappling with strange conditions which seemed delightful,
but might mask unknown dangers. No solid basis of




196                  IDOLATRY.
mutual acquaintanceship had been even approached.
Balder, accustomed though he was to woman's society,
knew not how to apply his experience here; while
Gnulemah had not yet perhaps decided whether her
visitor were natural or supernatural. The man was
probably the less at ease of the two, finding himself in
a pass through which tradition nor culture could pilot
him. Gnulemah, being used to daily communion with
things mysterious to her understanding, would scarcely
have altered her demeanor had Balder turned out to be
a genie!
But the first step towards fixing the relations between them  was already taken. The young man's
abrupt movement of his hand to his face (probably
with purpose to stroke the beard no longer growing
there) had not only scared away the hoopoe, but had
flashed on Gnulemah a ray from the diamond ring.
She rose to her feet suddenly, yet easily as a startled serpent rears erect its body. Vivid  emotion
lightened in her face. Balder knew  not what to
make of the look she gleamed at him.
"What are you?" she asked, her voice sunk to
almost a whisper. "Hiero?- are you Hiero?"
Balder  stared  confounded, - partly -inclined to
smile!
"Come back, - transfigured!" she went on, her
eyes deepening with awe. What did it mean? Some



THE HOOPOE AND THE CROCODILE.         197
what disturbed, Balder got also on his feet. As he did
so, Gnulemah crouched before him, holding out her
hands like a suppliant.  An on-looker might have fancied that the would-be God had found his worshipper
at last!
"My name is Balder," his Deityship managed to
say. As he spoke, the sun rounded the corner of the
house, and the light fell brightly on him, Gnulemah
kneeling in shadow. The glory of his splendid youth
seemed to have shone outf from within him in sudden
effulgence.
"Balder!" she slowly repeated, still gazing up at
him.
"There is a relationship between us," said he, a
vague uneasiness urging him to take refuge behind the
quaint fantasy.  "You are the daughter of fire, and I
the descendant of the sun! "
He spoke the unpremeditated notion which the sunburst had created in his brain, - spoke not seriously
nor yet lightly. He had as much right to his genealogy as she to hers.
But what a strange effect his words wrought on her!
She clasped her hands together quickly in a kind of
ecstasy.
"The sun, -  Balder  I have prayed to him, - he
has come to me, - Balder, my God!"  With how divine an accent did her full low voice give him the




198                  IDOLATRY.
name to which he had dared aspire! He was God, 
and her God!
He perhaps divined one part of the process through
which her mind must have gone; but he could not
find a word to answer, whether of acceptance or disclaimer. He turned pale, -his heart sick. Had the
recognition of his Godhood been too tardy?  Gnulemah fancied he repulsed her, and her passion kindled, -only religious passion, but it seared him!
" Do not be cold to me, Balder!" -his name as she
uttered it moved him as a blasphemy. "In my lonely
kneelings I have felt you! my eyes close, my hands
grow together, my breath flutters, every breath is joy
and fear! I think'He is with me, —the Being I
adore!' but when I opened my eyes, He was gone, 
Balder!"
Still motionless and seeming-deaf stood the Divinity,
bathed in mocking sunlight. He was powerless to stop
her from unveiling to him, as to a visible God, the
sacred places of her maiden heart. That sublime office
whose reversion he had boldly courted, in the possession shrivelled his soul to nothing and left him dead.
It was not easy to be God, —even over one human
being!
But Gnulemah, in her mighty earnestness, knelt
nearer, so that the edge of Balder's sunlight smote
the golden  ornaments that clung round her out



THE HOOPOE AND THE CROCODILE.       199
stretched arms. She almost touched him, but though
his spirit recoiled, the doltish flesh would not be
moved.
"It was not to be always so," she continued, an
appealing vehemence quivering through her tones.
"Some day I was to see Him and know Him more
clearly. Shine on me, Balder! am not I your priestess? in the morning do not I worship you, and at
noon, and in the evening? At night do not I kneel
at your altar and pray you to care for me while I sleep?
Hear me, Balder! I see you in all things, - they are
your thoughts and meet again in you! The sun himself is but your shadow! Do not I know you, my
Balder? Be not clouded from your servant! Leave
me not, - take me with you where you go "
It was at this moment that the young man's mind,
stumbling stupidly hither and thither, chanced to encounter that picture of the courtesan, leaning from the
open window in the city street, beckoning him to come.
She took Gnulemah's place, beckoning, making a hateful parody of Gnulemah's expression and gestures.
Could a devil take the consecrated place of angels? or
was the angel a worse devil in disguise? In the same
day, to him the same man, could two such voices speak,
- such faces look? And could the germ of Godhead
abide in a soul liable to the irony of such vicarious
solicitation?




200                  IDOLATRY.
Speech or motion was still denied him.  His priestess, strengthened by religious passion, was bold to
touch with hers his divine hand, on the finger of which
demoniacally glittered the murder-token.  The hand
was so cold and lax that even the smooth warmth of
her soft fingers failed to put life in it.
"You have taken Hiero to yourself, - take me also!
be my God as well as lis, for I shall be alone now he
is gone.  This ring which he always wore- "
Balder roughly snatched back his hand.
" Hiero's ring?"
" Why do you look so?- is it not a sign to me from
him?"
"Hiero's ring?- tell me, Gnulemah, is this Hiero's
ring? —  Stop-stand  up! No — call me Satan!Hiero's ring!"
"Where is Hiero, then?" demanded Gnulemah, rising and dilating. "You wear his ring, - what have
you done with him?- Is there no God?"
The words came riding on the waves of deep-drawn
breaths, for her soul was in a tumult.  Her life had
thus far been like a quiet sequestered pool, reflecting
only the sky, and the ferns and flowers that bent above
its margin; ignorant, moreover, of its own depth and
nature. Now, invaded by  storm, God and nature
seemed swept away and lost, and a terror of loneliness
darkened over it.




THE HOOPOE AND THE CROCODILE.        201
"Is there no Balder?" reiterated Gnulemah. But
all at once the fierceness in her eyes melted, as lightning is followed by summer rain. She came so near,
- he standing dulled with horror of his discovery, 
came so near that her breath touched him, and he
could hear the faint rustling of the white byssus on her
bosom, and the soft tinkle of the broad pendants that
glowed against her black hair; and could see how profoundly real her beauty was. Mighty and beneficent
must be the force or the law which could combine the
rude elements into such a form of life as this!
"Let me live for you and serve you! Though the
world has no Balder, may not I have mine?  You
shall be everything to me! Without you I cannot
be; but I want no other God if I have my Balder "
This was another matter! Nevertheless, - so subtile is the boundary between love human and divine,
— Gnulemah in these first passionate moments may
easily have deemed the one no less sublime than the
other.
But there was no danger of Balder's falling into such
an error. The distinction was clear to him. Yet with
remorse and abasement strove the defiant impulse to
pluck and eat  forgetful of this world and the next -
the royal fruit so fairly held to his lips!
For herein fails the divinity of nature, — she can
minister as well to man's depravity as to his exalta9*




202                 IDOLATRY.
tion; which could not happen were she one with God.
Nay, man had need be strong with Divine inspiration,
before communing unharmed with nature's dangerous
loveliness.
His hand in Gnulemah's was now neither cold nor
lax. She raised it in impetuous homage to her forehead. The diamond left a mark there; first white,
then red. For a breath or two, their eyes saw depths
in each other beyond words' fathoming....
A door was closed above; and the echo stole down
stairs and crept with a hollow whisper into the conservatory. The little lord chamberlain fluttered down
from  his lofty perch and hovered between the two
faces, his penetrating note sounding like a warning.
Gnulemah drew back, and a swift blush let fall its rosy
veil from the golden gleam of her jewelled foreheadband to below the head of the serpent which twisted
round her neck.
One parting look she gave Balder, pregnant of new
wonder, fear, and joy.  Then she turned and glided
with quick ophidian grace to the doorway from which
she had first appeared, and was eclipsed by the curtain.
The inner door shut; she was gone. Dull, dull and
colorless was the conservatory. The hoopoe had flown
out through the hall to the open air. Only the crocodile continued to keep Balder company.
After standing a few moments, he once more threw




THE HOOPOE AND THE CROCODILE.        203
himself down on the moss couch beneath the palmtrees. There he reclined as before, supported on his
elbow, and turned the diamond ring this way and that
on his finger in moody preoccupation.
Was the crocodile asleep, or stealthily watching
him?




XIX.
BEFORE SUNDOWN.
IF  Balder Helwyse had been in a vein for selfcriticism at this juncture, the review might probably have dissatisfied him.  He possessed qualities
which make men great.  He could have discharged
august offices, for he saw things in large relations and
yet minutely.  His mind and courage could rise to
any enterprise, and carry it with ease and cheerfully.
His nature was even more receptive than active. Ile
had force of thought to electrify nations.
But his was the old story of the star-gazer walking
into the well, who might have studied the stars in the
well, but could not be warned of the well by the stars.
He had whistled grand chances down the wind, reaching after what was superhuman.  His hunger had been
vast, but the food wherewith he had filled himself
nourished him  not, and suddenly he had collapsed.
His first actual step towards realizing his lofty aspirations had landed him  low amongst earth's common
criminals,-  nor had the harm- stopped there. That
defiant impulse to which he had just now been on




BEFORE SUNDOWN.                205
the point of yielding had not dared so much as to
have shown its face before his nnvitiated will.  He
was disorganized and at the mercy of events, because
without law sufficient to keep and guide himself.
Though fallen, there was in him  somewhat giantlike, perhaps easier to see now than before,-as the
ruin seems vaster than the perfect building.  The
travail of a soul like Balder's must issue greatly,
whether for good or ill.  He could not remain long
inchoate, but the elements would combine to make
sometling either darker or fairer than had been before.  Meanwhile, in the uncrystallized solution the
curious analyst might detect traits bright or sinister, ordinarily invisible. Here were softness, impetuosity, romantic imagination, and tender fire, enough
to set up half a dozen poets.  Again, there was a
fund of malignity, coldness, and subtlety adequate to
the making an Tago.  Here, too, were the clear sceptical intellect, the fertility and versatile power of
brain, which only the loftier minds of the world have
shown.
Such seemingly incongruous qualities are, in the
human crucible, so mingled, proportioned, and refined,
as to form a seeming simple and transparent whole.
We may feel the presence of a spirit weighty, strong,
and deep, without understanding the how and why of
the impression.  Only at critical moments, such as




206                  IDOLATRY.
this in Balder's life, can we point out the joining
lines.
Balder's present attitude, viewed from whatever side,
was no less irksome than ignoble.  One misfortune
was with diabolic ingenuity dovetailed into another.
It was bad enough to have killed a man; but the
victim was his own uncle, and the father —at least
the foster-father-of Gnulemah. And she, forsooth,
must idolize the murderer; and, finally, his heart must
leap forth in passionate response to hers at the moment-partly perhaps for the reason -that every
honest motive forbade it. That look and touch, at
the molten point of various emotions, had welded
their spirits together at once and lastingly.
VWhat next?  For Gnulemah and for himself what
course was least disastrous? —the heroic line,-to
leave her without a word?   or, concealing what he
was, should he stay and behappy in her arms? Was
there a third alternative?
"To part would be yet worse for her than for me.
She would think  I had deceived her.  And, love
apart, how  can I leave her whose only protector I
have killed?  That deed puts me in his place; so
love and duty are at one for once. Her Balder, - her
God, - she calls me. She is my universe; the depth
and limit of my knowledge and power are gauged by
her.  Such is the issue of my aspirations!"




BEFORE SUNDOWN.                207
He breathed out a half-laugh, ending  in a sigh.
"But loving her is sweeter than to inform creation!"
he added, aloud.
The crocodile made no reply. Balder went on, fingering the telltale ring and talking with himself; the
earth, meanwhile, slowly turning her warm shoulder to
the western sun. A still half-light filled the conservatory as with a clear mellow liquor, and the rich leaves
and blossoms stood breathless with delight. The painfully rigid contraction of Balder's features was softening
away; he was coming into harmony with the sensuous
beauty of the scene, or its refined voluptuousnessserene, unambitious, content with time and careless of
eternity - interpreted his altered temper.
Be happy in the sunlight, 0 men and women! Love
and kiss, — bow down and worship each the other!
Who can tell of another joy like this? Everlasting
knows it not, for only the flavor of death can give it
perfection!  Save for the foreshadow  of midnight,
noonday were not beautiful.  But when night comes,
sink ye in one another's arms, and sleep! Heaven on
earth is a richer, stronger draught than Heaven; but
pray that in vouchsafing death, it cheat ye not of annihilation!
He had forgotten that there was anything ugly in
the world, or that the blindest cannot always escape
the Gorgon. He recked not the risk of bringing a being




208                   IDOLATRY.
such as Gnulemah face to face with modern life, nor
bethought him that the secret in his heart would still
be nearer it than love could come.  Neither, during
this fortunate moment, did fear of discovery harass
him.
Oddly, too, it was not to domestic comforts, - the
love of wife, children, and friends,  nor yet to the
absorbing duties of a profession, that Balder looked for
a shield against inward trouble.  Hope held him  no
more than fear; his happiness must consist in freedom
from both.  He thought only of the Gnulemah of today, - unique, beautiful, untamed, divinely ignorant;
but whose heart walked before, leading the giddy mind
by paths the wisest dared not tempt.  The sounds of
her voice, the shiftings of her expression, her look, her
touch,-he recalled them  all.  He centred time and
space in her.  Change, new conditions, succession of
events,  these came not near her.  Their life should
know  neither past nor future, but abide a constant
Now, - until the end!
His lips followed his thought with soundless movement.  Handsome lips they were,-the under, full,
but sharply defined from the bulwark-chin; the upper,
slender, boldly curved, firm, yet sensitive;- the mouth
was a compendium of the man's physical nature.  His
eyes, large and almost as dark as Gnulemah's, albeit far
different in effect,- were now in-looking; the pupils,




BEFORE SUNDOWN.               209
always extraordinarily large and brilliant, almost filled
the space between.the eyelids.  His hair clung round
his head in yellow  curls; the dark dense eyebrows
arched at ease. With velvet doublet and well-moulded
limbs, in the enchanted evening-glow, he looked the
ideal fairy prince, - noble, wise, and valiant; conquering fate for love's sake. They were brave princes, -
they of old time. But one wonders whether the giants
and enchanters, nowadays, are not stronger and subtler
than they used to be!
N




XX.
BETWEEN WAKING AND SLEEPING.
T HERE was an old woman in the house who went
by the name of Nurse; her duties being to cook
the meals and preserve a sort of order in such of the
rooms as were occupied by the family.  Since the
greater part of the house was uninhabited, and there
were only two mouths to feed beside her own, Nurse
was not without leisure moments.  How were they
employed?
Not in gossiping, for she had no cronies. Not in
millinery and dressmaking, for there were no admiring
eyes to reward such labors. Not in gadding, for she
might not pass the imprisoning wall. Not even in reading, perhaps because she was not much of a proficient
in that art.
The truth is that - to the outward eye at leastshe was uniformly idle. For years past she had spent
many hours of each night in the corner of the kitchen
fireplace, which was as large, roomy, and smoke-seasoned as any in story-books or mediaeval halls. Here
sat she, winter and summer, her body bent forward




BETWEEN WAKING AND SLEEPING.        211
over her knees, her disfigured face supported on one
hand, while the other lay across her breast. This was
her common position, and she seldom moved to change
it.  She hummed tunes to herself sometimes, - not
hymn tunes, - but never was heard to utter an articulate word. Often you might have thought her asleep,
- but no! when you least expected it a shining black
eye was fixed on you; an eye which, two hundred
years ago, would have convicted its owner of witchcraft. It was the only bright thing about the poor
woman.
Whenever the master of the house came to the
kitchen, Nurse's witch-eye followed him  animal-like;
no movement of his, no expression, seemed to escape
it.  A  curious observer might sometimes have remarked in her, during the few moments after the
man's entrance, a muffled agitation, an irregularity
of the breath, an obscure anxiety and suspense. This,
however, would soon subside, and rarely recur during
his stay. The phenomenon had been observable daily
for nearly a score of years, yet nothing had meantime
happened to explain or justify it. Had an original
dread - groundless or not - prolonged its phantom
existence precisely because it had never met with
justification?
Often for weeks at a time, complete silence would
obtain between master and Nurse.  lIe would enter




212                  IDOLATRY.
and ramble hither and thither the ample kitchen; eat
what had been prepared for him, and be off again without a word or glance of acknowledlgment.  Or, again,
pacing irregularly to and fro before the fireplace, he
would pour forth long disjointed rhapsodies, wild speculations, hopes, and misgivings; his mood changing
from solemn to gay, and round through gusty passion
to morbid gloom. But never did he address his words
to Nurse so much as to himself or to some imaginary
interlocutor; and she for her part never answered him
a syllable, but sat in silence through it all. Yet was
she ever alert to listen, and sometimes the subdued
trembling would  come on and the obstruction  of
breath. But when the talker, in mid-excitement of
speech, snatched his violin and drew from it melodies
weirdly exquisite, soothing his diseased thoughts and
harmonizing them, Nurse would become once more
composed; the phantom danger was again put off, and
the violinist would presently fall into silence,- sometimes into sleep. But still, while he slept, the witcheye watched him; though with an expression of yearning, uncouth intensity which seldom ventured forth
while he was awake.
With Gnulemah, Nurse's intercourse became yearly
more and more infrequent. As the child arose to
womanhood, she grew apart from the voiceless creature
who had cared for her infancy. It was not Gnulemah's




BETWEEN WAKING AND SLEEPING.        213
fault, whose heart was never barren of loving impulses.
But mother, father, were words whose meaning she had
never been taught; and had Nurse comprehended the
unconscious thirst and hunger of the girl's soul,  unconscious, but not therefore harmless, - she might have
tried, by dint of affectionate observances and companionship, to represent the motherly office which she had filled
in the beginning. But this was not to be. Some hidden agency had forced the two ever farther asunder.
Moreover, Gnulemah developed rapidly, while Nurse
underwent a process of gradual congealment, - her
wits and emotions became torpid. Besides this, she
was the victim of disfigurement, physical as well as
spiritual; while Gnulemah, both naturally and by
training, was sensitive to beauty and ugliness. Other
surface causes no doubt there were, in addition to the
hidden one, which was perhaps the most potent of all.
A considerable time had passed since Gnulemah's
departure, when Balder became aware that he was not
alone in the conservatory. His thoughts were all of
Gnulemah, and he looked quickly round in expectation
of seeing her. The apparition of a widely different
object startled him to his feet.
A female figure stood before him, wrapped in sadcolored garments of anomalous description, her head
tied up in dark turban-like folds of cloth. A lock of
rusty black hair escaped from beneath this head-dress




214                   IDOLATRY.
and hung down beside her face.  She might once have
been tall and erect, but her form now sagged to the
left, losing  both  height and dignity.  Her visage,
seamed and furrowed by the scar of some terrible
calamity, had lost its natural contour. The left eye
was extinguished, but the right remained, - the only
feature in its original state.  It was dark and bright,
and possessed, by very virtue of its disfigured environment, a repulsive kind of beauty.  Its influence was
peculiar.  In itself, it postulated an owner in the prime
of life, handsome and graceful.  But, one's attention
wandering, the woman's actual ugliness impressed itself
with an intensity enhanced by the imaginary contrast.
A grotesque analogy was thus brought to light.  The
woman was dual.  Her right side lived; the leftblind, inert, and soulless - was dragged about a dead
weight.  It was an unnatural emphasizing of the spiritual-material composition of mankind.  Observable,
moreover, was her strange method of disguising emotion.  There was no muscular constraint; she simply
turned her blank left side to the spectator, with an
effect like the interposition of a dead wall!
Such, on Balder's -perhaps abnormally excited apprehension, was the impression the nurse produced. She,
on her part, was perhaps more disconcerted than he.
Her single eye settled upon him in a panic of surprise.
The dressing of the scene gave Balder a grisly reminder




BETWEEN WAKING AND SLEEPING.         215
of the first moments of Gnulemah's eloquent astonishment. There was as great an apparent difference between the superb Egyptian and this poor creature, as
between good and evil; but there was also the disagreeable suggestion of a similar kind of relationship.
Gnulemah, withered, stifled, and degraded by some unmentionable curse, might have become a thing not
unlike this woman.
"Have we met before, madam?" asked Helwyse,
impelled to the question by what he took for a bewildered recognition in her eye.
She moved her lips, but made no audible answer.
" I am Balder Helwyse," he added; for he had made
up his mind that all concealments (save one) were unnecessary.
A grotesque quake of emotion travelled through the
woman's body, and she gave utterance to a harsh inarticulate sound. She came confusedly forwards, groping
with hands outstretched. Balder, though not wont to
fail in courtesy to the sorriest hag, could scarce forbear
recoiling; especially because he fancied that an expression of affectionate interest was struggling to get
through the scarred incrustation of the woman's nature.
Perhaps she marked his inward shrinking, for she
checked herself, and, slowly turning her lifeless screen,
hid behind it. It was impotent deprecation translated
into flesh,- at once ludicrous and painful. The young




216                   IDOLATRY.
man found so much difficulty in restraining the manifestation of his distaste, that he blushed in the twilight at his own rudeness.  He would do his best to
redeem himself.
"Doctor Hiero Glyphic is my uncle," said he, moving to get on Nurse's right side, and speaking in his
pleasantest tone.  "Is he at home?  I have come a
long way to see him."
Preoccupied by his amiable purpose to reassure the
woman, Helwyse had got to the end of this speech
before realizing the ghastly mockery involved in it.
Nevertheless, it was well. Even thus falsely and boldly
must he henceforth speak and act.  By a happy accident he had opened the path, and must see to it that
his further steps did not retrograde.
Still Nurse answered not a word, which was the less
surprising inasmuch as she had been dumb for a quarter of a century past.  But Balder, supposing her
silence to proceed from stupidity or deafness, repeated
more loudly and peremptorily," Doctor Glyphic,- is he here? is he alive?"
He felt a morbid curiosity to hear what reply would
be made to the question whose answer only he could
know.  But he was puzzled to observe that it appeared
to throw  Nurse into a state of agitation as great as
though she had herself been the perpetrator of Balder's
crime! She stood quaking and irresolute, now peeping




BETWEEN WAKING AND SLEEPING.         217
for a moment from  behind her screen, then dodging
back with an increase of panic.
This display - rendered more uncouth by its voicelessness- revolted the sesthetic sensibilities of Helwyse. Besides, what was the meaning of it? Had it
actually been Davy Jones with whom he had striven
on the midnight sea? and had his adversary, instead
of drowning, spread his bat-wings for home, and left
his supposititious murderer to disquiet himself in vain?
Verily, a practical joke worthy its author 
This conceit revealed others, as a lightning-flash
the midnight landscape.  Balder was encircled by
witchcraft, -had been ferried by a real Charon to
no imaginary Hades.  The quaint secluded beauty of
circumstance was an illusion, soon to be dispelled.
Gnulemah herself -  miserable thought! — was perhaps a thing of evil; what if this very hag were
she in another form? Glancing round in the deepening twilight, Balder fancied the dark, still plants
and tropic shrubs assumed demoniac forms, bending
and crowding about him. The old witch yonder was
muttering some infernal spell; already he felt numbness in his limbs, dizziness in his brain.
The devils are gathering nearer. A heavy, heated
atmosphere quivers before his eyes, or else the witch
and her unholy crew are uniting in a reeling dance.
In vain does Balder try to shut his eyes and escape
10




218                  IDOLATRY.
the giddy spectacle; they stare widely open and see
things supernatural. Nor can he ward off these with
his hands, which are rigid before him, and defy his
will. The devilish jig becomes wilder, and careers
through the air, Balder sweeping with it.  In midwhirl, he sees the crocodile, —cold, motionless, waiting with long, dry jaws - for what?
A cry breaks from him. With a wrench that strains
his heart he bursts loose from the devil's bonds that
confine his limbs. The witch has vanished, and Helwyse seems to himself to fall headlong from a vast
height, striking the earth at last helpless and broken.
"Gnulemah "
Gasping out that name, he becomes insensible.
Beneath an outside of respectable composure have
turmoiled the tides of such remorse and pain as only
a man at once largely and finely made can feel. Added
to the mental excitement carried through many phases
to the point of distraction, have been bodily exertion
and want of food and sleep. The apparition of unnatural ugliness, of behavior strange as her looks,
coming upon him in this untoward condition, needed
not the heat of the conservatory and stupefying perfume of the flowers to bring on the brief delirium and
final unconsciousness. As he lies there let us remember that his last word threw back the unworthy, dark
misgiving, that beauty and deformity, good and bad,
could by any jugglery become convertible.




BETWEEN WAKING AND SLEEPING.          219
As a mere matter of fact, Nurse was no witch, nor
had she, of her own will and knowledge, done Balder
any harm.  On the contrary, she was already at work,
with trembling hands and painfully thumping heart,
to relieve his sad case. She was touched and agitated
to a singular degree. It was not the first time in the
patient's life that she had tended him. The reader
has guessed her secret, -that she had known Balder
before he knew himself, and cared for him when his
only cares had been to eat and sleep. She knew her
baby through his manly stature and mature features,
less from his likeness to his father than from certain
uneffaced traces of infantine form and expression. She
was of gypsy blood, and had looked on few human
faces since last seeing his. He did not recognize her
until some time afterwards. All things considered, it
was hardly possible he should do so.
It was curious to observe how awkwardly she now
managed emotions that had once flowed but too readily.  She was moved by impulses which she had long
forgotten how to interpret. Her only outlet for tenderness was her solitary eye, which might well have
given way under the strain thus put upon it.
But by and by the inward heat began to thaw the
stiff outward crust, which had been hardening for so
many years.  Glimpses there were of the handy, affectionate, sympathizing woman, emerging from  fossil



220                 IDOLATRY.
ization. Her withered heart once more hungered and
thirsted, and the strange duality tended to melt back
again into unity.
Balder's attack at length yielded, and a drowsy
consciousness returned, memory and reason being still
partly in abeyance. His heavy, half-closed eyes rested
on darkness. A crooning sound was in his ear,a nursery lullaby, wordless but soothing. Where was
he? Had he been ill? Was he in his cradle at home?
Was Salome sitting by to watch him and give him his
medicine? Yes, very ill he was, but would be better
in the morning; and meanwhile he would be a good
boy, and not cry and make a fuss and trouble Salome.
" Nurse,- Sal! — I say, Sal  "
Salome bent over him as of old.
"Had such a funny dream, Sal! dreamt I was grown
up, and -killed a man! What makes you shake so,
Sal? it was n't true, you know! And I'm going to be
a good boy and go to sleep. Good night I give a kiss
from me -to - my - little   "
So sinks he into slumber, profound as ever wooed
his childhood; his head pillowed in Salome's lap, his
funny dream forgotten.




XXI.
WE PICK UP ANOTHER THREAD.
D    AR KNESS and silence reigned in the conservatory; the group of the sleeping man and attendant woman was lost in the warm gloom, and scarcely a
motion - the low drawing of a breath - told of their
presence.
A great gray owl, which had passed the daylight in
some obscure corner, launched darkling forth on the
air, and winged hither and thither, - once or twice
fanning the sleeper's face with silent pinions. The
crocodile lazily edged off the stone, plumped quietly
into the water, and clambered up the hither margin of
the pool, there coming to another long pause.  A snail,
making a night-journey across the floor, found in its
path a diamond, sparkling with a light of its own. The
snail extended a cool cautious tentacle, -recoiled it
fastidiously and shaped a new course. A broad petal
from  a tall flowering-shrub dropped wavering down,
and seemed about to light on Balder's forehead; but,
swerving at the last moment, came to rest on the scaly
head of the crocodile.  The night waited and listened,




222                   IDOLATRY.
as though for something to happen, - for some one to
appear! Salome, too, was waiting for some one;- was
it for the dead?
Meantime, pictures from the past glimmered through
her memory. When, in our magic mirror, we saw her
struck down by the hand of her lover, she was far from
being the repulsive object she is now.  Indeed, but
for that chance word let fall yesterday, about her having been badly burnt, we might be at a loss to justify
our recognition of her.
After Manetho's rude dismissal of her, she fled - not
knowing whither better -to Thor Helwyse, who was
living widowed in his Brooklyn house, with his infant
son and daughter.  Because she had been Helen's attendant, she besought Helen's husband to give her a
home.  She was in sore trouble, but said no more than
this; and Thor, suspecting nothing of her connection
with Manetho, gladly received her as nurse to his children.
But past sins and imprudences would find out Salome
no less than others.  At the critical moment for herself and her fortunes, the house took fire.  She risked
her life to save Thor's daughter, was herself burned
past recognition, and (one misfortune treading on another's heels) balanced on death's verge for a month or
two. She got well, in part; but the faculty of speech
had left her, and beauty of face and figure was forever
gone.




WE PICK UP ANOTHER THREAD.          223
In her manifold wretchedness, and after such devotion shown, it was not in Thor's warm heart to part
with her; so, losing much, she gained something. She
remained with her benefactor, whose manly courtesy
ever forbore to probe the secret of her woman's heart,
overwhich as over her face she always wore a veil.
The world saw Salome no more. She sat in the nursery, watching year by year the dark-eyed little maiden
playing with the fair-haired boy.  Broad-shouldered
Thor would come in, with his grand, kindly face and
royal beard; would kiss the little girl and tussle with
the boy, mightily laughing the while at the former's
solicitude for her playmate; would throw himself on
the groaning sofa, and exclaim in his deep voice, 
"God bless their dear little souls! Why, Nurse!
when did a brother and sister ever love each other like
that,- eh?"
Salome probably was not unhappy then; indeed,whether she knew it or not, - she was at her happiest.
But new events were at hand. Thor, growing yearly
more restless, at length resolved to sell his house and
go to Europe, taking with him Salome and both the
children. Everything was ready, down to the packing
of Salone's box.  A day or two before the sailing,
Thor went to New Jersey, to bid farewell to his eccentric brother-in-law. It was a warm summer day, and
the children played from  morning till night in the




224                 IDOLATRY.
front yard, while Nurse sat in the window and kept
her eye on them.  Her thoughts, perhaps, travelled
elsewhere.
Since her misfortune she had, no doubt, had more
opportunity than most women for reflection: silence
breeds thought.  What she thought about, no one
knew; but she could hardly have forgotten Manetho.
On this last evening when at the point of leaving
America forever, it would have been strange had no
memory of him passed through her mind.
She had not heard his name in the last four years,
and she knew that he suspected nothing of her whereabouts. Had he ever wished to see her? she wondered; and thought, "He would not know me if he
did see me!"  With that came a tumultuous longing once more to look upon him. Too late! Why
had she not thought of this before? Now must her
last memory of him  be still as when, disfigured by
sudden rage, he turned upon her and struck her on the
bosom. There was the scar yet; the fire had spared
it! It was a keepsake which, as time passed, Salome
strangely learned to love!
It was growing dusk, —time for the children to
come in. They were sitting deep in the abundant
grass, weaving necklaces out of dandelion-stems. Nurse
leaned out of window and beckoned to attract their
attention.  But either they were too much absorbed to




WE PICK UP ANOTHER THREAD.          225
notice her, or they were wilfully blind; so Nurse rose
to go out and fetch them.
Before reaching the open front door, she stopped
short and her heart seemed to turn over. A tall dark
man was leaning over the fence, talking with the little
girl. Nurse shrank within the shadow of the door,
and thence peeped and listened, - as well as her beating pulses would let her.
"I know where fairy-land is," says the man, in the
soft, engaging tone that the listener so well remembers.
"Come! shall we go together and visit it?"
"He come too?" asks the little maiden, nodding
towards the boy, who is portentously busy over his
dandelions.
" He may if he likes," the man answers with a smile.
"But we must make haste, or fairy-land will be shut
up!"
It flashes into Salome's head what this portends.
She had heard this man vow revenge on Thor long ago,
and she now sees how he means to keep his oath. He
has shrewdly improved the opportunity of Thor's absence, and has come intending to carry off either his
son or his daughter. Fortune, it seems, has chosen for
him the dark-eyed little girl.  See! he stoops and lifts
her gently over the wall, and they are off for fairyland!
Rush out, Salome! alarm the neighborhood and force
10*                         o




226                  IDOLATRY.
the kidnapper to give up his booty! After Thor's kindness to you, will you be false to him? Besides, what
motive have you for unfaithfulness? Grant that you
love Manetho,   what harm, save to his revengeful
passion, could result from thwarting him?
Salome acted oddly on this occasion,-it would
seem, irrationally.  But that which appears to the
spectator but a trivial modification may have vital
weight with the actor. Had Manetho taken Balder,
for example, Salome might have pursued another and
more intelligible course than the one she actually took.
She hurried out of the door and caught Manetho by
the arm before he was twenty paces on his way. He
turned, savage but frightened, setting down the little
girl but not letting go her hand. She was in her happiest humor, and informed Nurse that she was to be
queen of fairy-land!
Nurse lifted the veil from her face and looked steadfastly at Manetho with her one eye. It was enough, 
he saw in her but a hideous object,   would never
know her for the bright girl he had once professed to
love. Salome gave one sob, containing more of womanly emotion than could be written down in many
words, and then was quiet and self-possessed. Manetho did not offer to escape, but stood on his guard;
half prepared, however, - from something in the woman's manner,  to find her a confederate.




WE PICK UP ANOTHER THREAD.          227
" S'e come too?" chirped the unconscious little
maiden.
But Manetho's attention was turned to some words
that Salome was writing in a little blank-book which
she always carried in her pocket. She offered to help
him carry off the child, on condition of being herself
one of the party!
He looked narrowly at the woman, but could make
nothing by his scrutiny. Was it love for the child
that prompted her behavior? No; for she could easily
have raised the neighborhood against him. She completely puzzled him, and she would give no explanations. What if he should accept her offer? She would
be an advantage as well as an inconvenience. The
child would have the care to which it had been accustomed, and Manetho would thus be spared much embarrassment. 7When the woman's help became superfluous, it would not be difficult to give her the slip.
There was small leisure for reflection. An agreement was made,-on Salome's part, with a secret
sense of intense triumph, not unmixed with fear and
pain. She caught up Master Balder and his dandelions, kissed and hugged him violently, and locked him
into the nursery; where he was found some hours
afterwards by his father, in a state of great hunger and
indignation. But the little dark-haired maiden was
seen no more. She was gone to her kingdom of fairy



228                   IDOLATRY.
land, and Nurse with her. Long mourned Balder for
his vanished playmate!
Salome has kept her secret well. And now, there
she sits, her long-lost baby's head in her lap, thinking
of old times; and the longer she thinks, the more she
softens and expands.  Has she done a great wrong in
her life?  Surely she has suffered greatly, and in a
manner that might well wither her to the core.  But
there must still have been a germ of life in the shrivelled seed, which this night -  memorable in her existence - has begun to quicken.
By and by come a few tears, with a struggle at first,
then more easily.  Kind darkness lets us think of
Salome bright and comely as in the old days, with the
added grace of inward beauty wrought by sad experience. But, in truth, she is marred past earthly
recovery.  Nothing removes a soul so far from  human sympathy as self-reprqssion,   especially for any
merely human end!
The night creeps reluctantly westward; the gray
owl wings back to his shady corner; the adventurous
snail, half-way up the palm-tree, glues himself to the
bark and turns in for a nap.  The crocodile has resumed his old position on the rock in the pool, and the
flower petal floats on the water.  Here comes the brilliant hoopoe with his smart crest and clear chirrup,
impatient to bid Gnulemah good morning! All is as




WE PICK UP ANOTHER THREAD.            229
before, save that the- group beneath the palm-trees has
disappeared!
Balder slept late, yet, on awakening, he thought he
must be dreaming still. He could not distinguish imagination from reality.  His mind had temporarily lost
its grasp, his will its authority. Where was he?  Was
it years'or hours since he had entered Boston harbor?
Suddenly rose before him  the vision of the deadly
struggle on the midnight sea. Round this central point
the rest crystallized in order.  His heart sank, and he
sighed most heavily.  But presently he rose to his
elbow and stared about in bewilderment.  Had he ever
seen this room before?  How came he here?
He was lying on a carved bedstead, furnished with
sheets of fine linen and a counterpane of blue embroidered satin; but all bearing an appearance of great age.
The room was oval, like a bird's-egg halved lengthwise;
the smoothly vaulted ceiling being frescoed with a crowd
of figures. The rich and costly furniture harmonized
with the bedstead, and bore the same marks of age. The
chairs and lounge were satin-covered; the sumptuous
toilet-table was. fitted with a mirror of true crystal; the
arched window was curtained with azure satin and lace.
It was a chamber fit for a princess of the old reggime,
unaltered since its fair occupant last abode in it.
Balder now  examined the frescos which covered




230                 IDOLATRY.
wall and ceiling.  The subject seemed at the first
glance to be a Last Judgment, or something of that
nature. A mingled rush of forms mounted on one side
to the bright zenith, and thence lapsed confusedly
down the opposite descent. The dark end of the room
presented a cloud of gloomily fantastic shapes, swerved
from the main stream, and becoming darker and more
formless the farther they receded, till at the last they
were lost in a murky shadow. Not entirely lost, however; for as Balder gazed awfully thitherward, the
shadow seemed to resolve itself into a mass of intertwined and struggling beings, neither animal nor human, but combining the more unholy traits of both.
But from the centre of the upward stream  shone
forms and faces of angelic beauty; yet, on looking
more narrowly, Balder discerned in each one some
ghastly peculiarity, revealing itself just when enjoyment of the beauty was on the point of becoming complete. Such was the effect that the most angelic forms
were translated into mocking demons, and where the
light seemed brightest there was the spiritual darkness
most profound.
In the zenith was a white lustre which obliterated
distinction of form as much as did the cloudy obscurity
at the end of the room. Now the design seemed about
to unfold itself; then again it eluded the gazer's grasp.
Suddenly at length it stood revealed. A gigantic face,




WE PICK UP ANOTHER THREAD.          231
with wide-floating hair and beard, looked down into
Balder's own. Its expression was of infinite malignity
and despair. The impersonation of all that is wicked
and miserable, its place was at the top of Heaven; it
was moulded of those aspiring forms of light, and was
the goal which the brightest attained. Moreover, either
by some ugly coincidence or how otherwise he could
not conceive, this countenance of supreme evil was the
very reflex of Balder's, - a portrait minutely true, and,
despite its satanic expression, growing every moment
more unmistakable.
Was this accident, or the contrivance of an unknown
and unfathomable malice? Balder, Lord of Heaven,
instinct with the essence of Hell! A grim satire on
his religious speculations! But what satirist had been
bitter enough so to forestall the years?- for the painting must have been designed while Balder was still an
infant.
He threw himself off the bed and stepped to the
window, and saw the blue sky and the river rhyming
it. The breath of the orchard visited him, and he was
greeted by the green grass and trees. He sighed with
relief. There had been three mornings since his return to America.  For the first he had blessed his
own senses; the second had looked him out of countenance; but the third came with a benediction, serene
and mighty, such as Balder's soul had not hitherto
been open to.




232                  IDOLATRY.
"This is more than a plaster heaven," said he,
looking up; "but I fear, Balder Helwyse, your only
heaven, thus far, has been of plaster.  You have seen
this morning how the God of such a heaven looks.
How about the God of this larger Heaven, think you?"
Presently he turned away from  the window; but
he had quaffed so deeply of the morning glory, that
the sinister frescos no longer depressed him. They
were ridiculously unimportant, - nothing more than
stains on the wall, in fact. Balder could not tell why
he felt light-hearted.  It was solemn light-heartedness,
— not the gayety of sensuous spirits, such as he had
experienced heretofore. It had little to do with physical well-being, for the young man was still faint and
dizzy, and weak from  hunger. Behold, then, at the
foot of the bed, a carved table covered with a damask
cloth and crowned with an abundant breakfast; not
an ordinary breakfast of coffee, rolls, omelette, and
beefsteak, but a pastoral breakfast, -fresh milk, bread
and honey and fruit and mellow cheese, - such food
as Adam might have begun the day with.
In face of the yet unsolved mystery of his own
presence in the room, this new surprise caused Balder
no special wonder.  Beyond the apparition of the ugly
dumb woman, he recollected nothing of the previous
evening's experience. Could she have transported him
hither? Well, he would not let himself be disturbed




WE PICK UP ANOTHER THREAD.           233
by apparent miracles.  "No doubt the explanation is
simple," thought he; and with that he began his toilet.
The dressing-table displayed a variety of dainty articles such as a lady might be supposed to use, - pearlhandled brushes, enamelled powder-boxes, slender vases
of Meissen porcelain, a fanciful ring-stand; from the
half-open drawer a rich glimpse of an Indian fan; a
pair of delicate kid gloves, which only a woman's
hands could have worn, were thrown carelessly on the
table.  There were still the little wrinkles in the fingers, but time had changed the pristine white to dingy
yellow.
" Whose hands could have worn them? whose chamber was this?" mused Balder. "Not Gnulemah's; she
knows nothing of kid gloves and powder! and these
things were in use before she was born.  Whose face
was reflected in this glass, when those gloves were
thrown down here?  Was that her marriage-bed?
WVere children born in it?"
His seizure of the night before must have dulled the
edge of his wit, else he had scarce asked questions
which chance now answered for him. A  scratch on
one corner of the polished mirror-surface showed, on
closer inspection, a name and a date written with a
diamond.  Shading off the light with his hand, Balder
read, "Helen, 1831."
"My mother's name; the year I was born.  My




234                  IDOLATRY.
mother! " he repeated softly, taking up the old yellow
gloves.  "And this room  was my birthplace, -and
my little sister's!  My mother's,; things, as she left
them; for father once told me that he never entered
her room  after she was buried.  She died here; and
here my little sister and I began to live. And here I
am, again, -really the same little helpless innocent
baby who cried on that bed so long ago. Only not
innocent now! Perhaps, not helpless, either!
"How happy that barber was yesterday! prattled
about being born again.  Cannot I be born again, —
to-day,- in this room? Here I first began, and have
come round the world to my starting-point. I will
begin afresh this morning."
And heavily as he was weighted in the new race, he
would not be disheartened. Unuttered resolves brightened his eyes and made his courage high.
Before beginning breakfast, he returned to the window and drank again of the divine blue and green.
From the branch of a near tree the hoopoe startled him
and made him color. Was the bird an emissary from
Gnulemah? Balder's mouth drew back, and his chin
and-eyes strengthened, as though some part of his unuttered resolves were recalled by the thought of her.
When he was ready to go, he turned at the door, and
threw a parting glance round the dainty old-fashioned
chamber, trying to gather into one all the thoughts,




WE PICK UP ANOTHER THREAD.            235
memories, and resolves connected with it.  He had
nearly forgotten the frescos; the victorious sunshine
had reduced the figures, satanic or beautiful, to a meaningless agglomeration of wandering lines and faded
colors.  As for his own portrait, it was no longer distinguishable!




XXII.
HEART AND HEAD.
ALDER easily found his way to the conservatory,
but it was empty, - Gnulemah, at least, was not
there!  The tapestry curtain in  her doorway was
pushed aside, the door itself open. Where should he
seek her 
As he stood in doubt, he saw lying at his feet a
violet. Picking it up, he saw another some distance
beyond it, and still another on the threshold which he
had just crossed. They were Gnulemah's footsteps,the scent of this sweet quarry, teaching him how to
follow her. So he followed, nor let one fragrant trace
escape him; and presently he had a nosegay of them.
She was out of doors, then. Truly, on such a day as
this, where else should she be? What walls could presume to hold her?  Her loveliness was at one with
nature's, and they attracted each other. To the solitary
nymph, her mighty playmate had been all-sufficient;
for she saw not the earth and sky as they appear nowadays to mankind, but the divine meaning which they
clothe.  Thus she could converse with animals, and




HEART AND HEAD.               237
could read plants and stones more profoundly than
botanist or geologist. She followed inward to her own
fresh and beautiful soul the sympathies which allied
her to outward things, and found there their true
prototypes.
But when the strong magnetism  of a new human
spirit began to act upon her, these fine communings
with nature suffered disturbance. In such thunderstorms as the meeting of the electric forces must engender, there was need of a trustworthier safeguard than
simple perception of a divine purpose underlying creation. Only the personal God is strong enough to govern
the relations of soul with soul. Barren of Eve, Adam
would not have fallen; but with her, he will one day
not only retrieve his fall, but climb to a sublimer height
than any to which he could have aspired alone.
Balder strolled out on the wide lawn. Southwestward wound an avenue of great trees, overshadowing
the narrow footpath that stole beneath them. To the
right, round the northern corner of the house, he
could see far off the white tops of the blossoming
apple-trees; and beyond, the river. The orchard perfume came riding on the untamed breeze, and whispered a fragrant secret in the young man's ear. Orchardward he pursued his search.
As he went on, Gnulemah grew  every moment
nearer. At length he caught the flutter of her mantle




238                  IDOLATRY.
amidst the foliage, and presently saw her on the brink
of the precipice, looking out across the broad blue
river. Thus had he, through his glass, darkly, seen
her stand the day before. Were the crossing a river
and the flight of a day all that divided his past life
from what he thought awaited him now!
While yet at a distance, he called to her, - not from
impatience, but because he stood in awe of the meeting, and wanted the first moments over. His voice
touched Gnulemah like a beloved hand, and turned her
towards him. Her face, which had not learned to be
the mask of emotion, but was instead the full and
immediate index thereof, brightened with joy; and as
he came near, the joy increased. Yet a seriousness,
deep down in her eyes, marked the shadow of a night
and the dawn of another day. A spiritual chemistry
had been working in her.
She did not move forward to meet him, but stood
delighting in the sense of his ever-growing nearness.
When at length he stood close before her, she drew a
long, pleasant breath and said,"A beautiful morning!"
This was no commonplace greeting, for it was not
made in a commonplace manner. It said that his
coming had consummated the else imperfect beauty
of nature, and won its expression from Gnulemah's
lips. The commonplace wondered to find itself transmuted into a compliment of fine gold!




HEART AND HEAD.               239
Gnulemah's attire to-day was more Diana-like than
yesterday's, and looked as appropriate to her as leaves
to trees or clouds to the sky. Her dress, indeed, was
not so much a conventional appendage as a living, sensitive part of her, which might be supposed to change
its color and style in sympathy with her shifting
moods and surroundings, yet never losing certain distinctive traits which had their foundation in her individual nature.
"A beautiful morning!" returned Balder, taking her
hand. "Were you expecting me?"
"I feared you might not show yourself to me again,"
she answered, with sudden tears twinkling on her eyelashes.  She seemed more tenderly human and approachable to-day than heretofore. Had she found her
mountain-height of unmated solitude untenable?found in herself a yielding woman, and in Balder the
strength that is a man? This descent, which was a
sweet ascent, made her endlessly more lovable.
"I come here always when I feel lonely," continued
she. "If it had not been for this place, with its great
outlook, I should often have been too lonely to stay in
the world."
"We all need an outlook to a larger world, Gnulemah."
"Besides, you came to me from the other side! " said
she, glancing in his face.




240                  IDOLATRY.
"Did you see me there?" Balder was on the point
of asking; but he was wise enough to refrain.  If he
could believe it true, let him not tempt his happiness;
if faith were weak, why build a barrier against it?
So he kept silence.
"You found my violets!" whispered Gnulemah, with
a shy smile.  "You understand all I do and am; it is
happiness to be with you."
They sat down by mutual consent beneath a crooked
old apple-tree, which yet blossomed as pure and fresh
as did the youngest in the orchard. From beneath this
white and perfumed tent was a view of the distant
city.
Gnulemah could not be called talkative, yet in giving her thoughts expression she outdid vocabularies.
Many fine muscles there were around her eyes, at the
corners of her mouth, and especially in the upper lip,
- whose subtile curvings and contractions spoke volumes of question, appeal, observation.  Her form by
its endless shiftings uttered delicate phrases of pleasure, surprise, or love; her hands and fingers were orators, and eloquent were the curlings and tappings of her
Arab feet.. This kind of language would be blank to one used
rather to hear words than to feel them; but Balder, in
his present exalted mood, delighted in it. Was there
any enjoyment more refined than to see his thought,




HEART AND HEAD.                 241
before he had given it breath, lighten in the eyes of
this daughter of fire? and with his own eyes to catch
the first pure glimmer of her yet unborn fancies? A
language genial of intimacy, for the talkers must feel
in order to utterance, -must meet each other, from
the heart outward, at every point.  The human form is
made of meanings. It is the full thought of its Creator,
comprising all other thoughts.  Is it blind chance or
lifeless expediency that moulds the curves of woman's
bosom, builds up man's forehead like a citadel, and sets
his head on his shoulders?  Is beauty beautiful, or are
we cozened by congenial ugliness?  But Balder's philosophic scepticism  should never have braved a test
like Gnulemah!
Except music, painting, sculpture, - all the arts and
the inspiration of them, - waited on the nib of the pen,
such talk as passed between these two could not be
written.  Some things - and those not the least profound and admirable of life -transcend the cunning
of man to interpret them, unless to an apprehension as
fine as they! We are fain to content ourselves with
the husks.
"It must be happy there 1" said Gnulemah, looking
cityward.  "So many Balders and Gnulemahs!"
" Why happy? " asked the man of the world, with a
faint smile.
"We are only two, and have known each other to11                           P




242                  IDOLATRY.
day and yesterday.  But they, you said, are as many as
the stars, and have been together many yesterdays."
Such was the woman's unclinched argument, leaving
her listener to draw the inference. He would not forestall her enlightenment from the grim.page of his own
experience.  But do not many pure and loving souls
pass through the world without once noticing how bad
most of the roads are, and how vexed the climates?
So might not the earthly heaven of Gnulemah's imagination tenderly blind her to the unheavenly earth of
Balder's knowledge?
Through his abstraction Balder felt on his hand a
touch soft as the flowing of a breath, yet pregnant of
indefinite apprehension.  When two clouds meet, there
is a hush and calm; but the first seeming-trifling lightning-flash brings on the storm  whereby earth's face is
altered.  So Balder, full-charged as the thunder-cloud,
awaited fearfully the first vivid word which should
light the way for those he had resolved to speak.
"I see you with my open eyes, Balder, and touch
you and hear you.  Is this the end I thought would
come? Balder, are you greatest?"  With full trust
she appealed to him  to testify concerning himself.
This was the seriousness he had marked beneath the
smile.
"Are you content it should be so?"
She plucked a blade of grass and tied it in a knot,




HEART AND HEAD.                243
and began, drawing a trembling breath between each
few words, 
" 0 Balder, - if I must kneel to you as to the last
and greatest of all, - if there is nothing too holy to be
seen and touched, - if there is no Presence too sublime
for me to comprehend -"
"What then? " asked he, meeting her troubled look
with a strong, cheerful glance.
" Then the world is less beautiful than I thought it;
the sun is less bright, and I amn no more pleasing to
myself."  Tears began to flow down her noble cheeks;
but Balder's eyes grew brighter, seeing which, Gnulemah was encouraged to continue.
" How could I be happy? for either must I draw
myself apart from you- 0 Balder! - or else live as
~your equal, and so degrade you; for I am  not a
goddess!"
"Then there are no goddesses on earth,   nor gods 
Gnulemah, you need not shrink from me for that."
The beautiful woman smiled through her sparkling
eyelashes. She could love and reverence the man who,
as a deity, bewildered and disappointed her. But was
the intuition therefore false which had revealed to
her the grand conception of a supreme, eternal God?
They sat silent for a while, and neither looked in
the other's face. They had struck a sacred chord, and
the sweet, powerful sound thrilled Balder no less than




244                 IDOLATRY.
Gnulenzah. But presently he looked up; his cheeks
warmed, and his heart swelled out. He was about to
put in jeopardy his most immediate jewel, and the
very greatness of the risk gave him courage. Not to
the world, that could not judge him righteously, would
he confess his crime,-  but to the woman he loved and
who loved him. Her verdict could not fail to be just
and true.
Could a woman's judgment of her lover be impartial? Yes, if her instincts be pure and harmonious,
and her worldly knowledge that of a child. Her discrimination between right and wrong would be at
once accurate and involuntary, like the test of poison.
Love for the criminal would but sharpen her intuition.
The sentence would not be spoken, but would be readable in eyes untainted alike by prejudice or sophistry.
Gnulemah was thus made the touchstone of Balder's
morality. He stood ready to abide by her decision.
Her understanding of the case should first be made
full; then, if condemned by her look, he would publish his crime to the world, and suffer its penalty.
But should her eyes absolve him, then was crime an
illusion, evil but undeveloped good, the stain of blood
a prejudice, and Cain no outcast, but the venerable
forefather of true freedom.
Unsearchable is the heart of man.  Balder had
looked forward to condemnation with a wholesome




HEART AND HEAD.               245
solemnity which cheered while it chastened him. But
the thought of acquittal, and at Gnulemah's hands,
appalled him. The implicit consequences to humanity seemed more formidable than the worst which condemnation could bring upon himself.  So much had
he lately changed his point of view, that only the fear
of seeing his former creed confirmed could have now
availed to stifle his confession.
But that fear did not much disquiet him; he trusted
too deeply in his judge to believe that she would justify it. In short, Gnulemah was in his opinion rightminded, exactly in proportion as she should convict
him of being in the wrong. Balder resigned the helm
of his vessel, laden as she was with the fruits of years
of thought and speculation, at the critical moment of
her voyage, - resigned her to the guidance of a woman's unreasoning intuition.  He might almost as well
have averred that the highest reach of intellect is to
a perception of the better worth and wisdom of an unlearned heart.




XXIII.
BALDER TELLS AN UNTRUTH.
B Y way of enheartening himself for what he was
to do, Balder kissed the posy of Gnulemah's
fragrant footsteps. He kept his eyes down, lest she
should see something in them to distract her attention
from his story.  He must go artfully to work, — gain
her assent to the abstract principles before marshalling them against himself.
Meanwhile Gnulemah had picked up a gold beetle,
and was examining it with a certain grave interest.
"I never told you how I came by this ring of Hiero's. It was the night before I first saw you, Gnulemah."
"The ring guided you to me! " said she, glancing at
his downcast visage.
"Perhaps it did!" he muttered, struck by the ingenious superstition; and he eyed the keen diamond half
suspiciously.  How  fiercely the little serpents were
struggling for it!  "But Hiero -he has lost it, and
you will see him no more!"
"You are with me!" returns she, shining out at




BALDER TELLS AN UNTRUTH.           247
him from beneath her level brows. What should she
know of death and parting?
Balder still forbore to raise his face. Gnulemah was
in a frolicsome humor, the reaction of her foregoing
solemnity. But Balder, who deemed this hour the
gravest of his life, was taken aback by her unseasonable gayety. Casting about for means to sober her, -
an ungracious thing for a lover to do! — he hit upon
the gold beetle.
" Dead; the poor little beetle'  Do you know what
death is, Gnulemah?"
" It is what makes life. The sun dies every night,
to get life for the morning. And trees die when cold
comes, so as to smile out in green leaves again,greener than if there had been no death.  So it is
with all things."
"Not with everything," said Balder, taking her lightheartedness very gravely. " That gold beetle in your
hand is dead, and will never live or move again."
But at that Gnulemah smiled; and bringing her
hand, with the beetle in it, near her perfect lips, she
lent it a full warm breath, - enough to have enlivened an Egyptian scarabseus, - and behold! the beetle
spread its wings and whizzed away. Before Balder
could recover from  this unexpected  refutation, the
lovely witch followed up her advantage.
"You thought, perhaps, that Hiero was as dead as




248                   IDOLATRY.
the little beetle; but he lives more beautifully in
you! "
He looked  startled up, his large eyes glittering
blackly in the paleness of his face.  Gnulemah, with
the serenity of a victorious disputant willing to make
allowances, continued,"It may be different in the outside world from which
you come; but here death ends nothing, but makes life
new and strong."
After a silence of some duration, poor Balder renewed his attack from another quarter.
"What would you think of one who put to death
a creature you loved?"
She smiled, and shook her glowing pendants.
"Only God puts to death; and no one would hurt a
thing I love!"
"What should you think of one who put to death a
man? "
Gnulemah looked for a moment perplexed and indignant. Then, to Balder's great discomfiture, she laughed
like a bird-chorus.
"Why do you imagine what cannot be? Would you
and Hiero kill each other?  The gray owl kills little mice, but that is to eat them.  Would you eat
Hiero -"
"Don't laugh, Gnulemah  " besought he. " I should
kill him, not as animals kill one another, but from rage
and hatred."




BALDER TELLS AN UNTRUTH.            249
"Hatred!" repeated Gnulemah, dislikingly; "hatred,
what is it? "
"A  passion of men's hearts, - the wish that evil
may befall others.  When the hatred is bitter enough,
and the opportunity fair, they kill! "
Gnulemah shuddered slightly and looked sad. Then
she leaned towards Balder and touched his shoulder
persuasively.
"Never think of such things, or talk of them! Could
you hate any one, Balder? or kill him if you did?"
With that glorious presence so near him, - her voice
so close to his ear, - how could he answer her?  His
heart awoke, and beat and drove the tingling blood
tumultuously forth to the remotest veins. She saw the
flush, and caught the passionate brilliancy of his eyes.
Happy and afraid, she drew back, saying in haste,"You have not told me yet about the ring!"
That was not wisely said! Balder checked himself
with a sudden, strong hand, and held still,  his brows
lowered down and his lips settled together, - until his
pulses were quiet and his cheeks once more pale.
"I will tell you," he said; "but to understand, you
must first hear some other things." He hesitated, face
to face with an analysis of murder.  The position was
at once stimulating and appalling.  To dissect and
reduce to its elements that grisly murder-devil which
had once possessed his own soul, and whose writhings
11*




250                   IDOLATRY.
beneath the scalpel he would therefore feel as his own,
- here loomed a prospect large and terrible! Nevertheless, Balder took up the knife.
The white petal of an apple-blossom, parting from
its calyx, came floating  earthwards; but a breeze
caught it and wafted it aloft. It sank again, and was
again arrested and borne skywards.  Finally it disappeared over the cliff-edge.
"The weight that made it fall is of the earth," said
Balder (both he and Gnulemah had been watching the
petal's course).  "The breeze that buoyed it up was
from heaven, and so it is with man.  Were there no
heavenly support, he would fall at once, but whether
or not, he always tends to fall."
Gnulemah objected, "It loves the air better than the
earth I"
"When man begins to fall, he becomes mad, and
thinks he is not falling, but that earth is heaven, to
which he is rising. But since earth is not like heaven,
infinite, he does not wish others to enjoy it, lest his
own pleasure be marred."
"How can that be? " said the unwilling Gnulemah.
"What can make men so happy on earth as other
men?"
"Each wants all power for himself," rejoined Balder,
his voice growing stern as he pursued his theme.
"They want to hurl their fellows out of the world,




BALDER TELLS AN UNTRUTH.           251
even to annihilation. Every moment this hatred is let
grow in the heart's garden, it spreads and strengthens,
till it gains dominion and makes men slaves, and madder than before. Each will be above his rival, - his
enemy! he will be absolute master over him. And
from that resolve is born murder!"
" Why do you tell Gnulemah this?" she asked, lifting her head like a majestic serpent.  But she could
not stop him now. His voice, measured at first, was
now driven by emotion.
"Murder comes next; and many a man, had fear
or impotence not withheld him, would have done
murder a thousand times. But sometimes the demon
leaps up and masters impotence and fear. The man is
drunk with immeasurable selfishness,  greater than
the universe can satisfy; which would fain make one
victim after another, till all the human race should be
destroyed; and then would it turn against I-eaven
and God.  Save for man's mortal frailty, the population of the world would ever and anon be swept
away by some giant murderer.
"Wickedness grows faster, the wickeder it is; he
who has been wicked once will easily be so again,the more easily as his crime was great. Even though
through all his mortal life he sin no more, yet his drift
is thitherward!  Only the air of Heaven breathing
through his soul after death can make him pure."




252                   IDOLATRY.
Balder was speaking out all the gloom  and terror
which had been silently gathering within him since his
fatal night.  As he spoke, his mind expanded, and perceived things before unknown.  As the reasons for
condemnation  nultiplied, he did but push  on the
harder, striking at each tender spot in his own armor. And as the day turned fatally against him, his
face looked great and heroic, and his voice sounded
almost triumphant.
Thus far, he had only generalized; now, he was
come to his own plight.  On several points he had
been painfully in doubt: whether he had done the
deed in self-defence; whether he had meant to do it;
whether it had not been a blind, mad accident, since
swollen by fevered imagination into the likeness of
wilful crime.  But against such doubts arrayed itself
the ineffaceable memory of that wild joy which had
filled his soul, when he had felt his enemy in his
power! Had the man survived, Balder might still
have doubted; being dead, doubts were but cowardly
sophistry.
But during the brief pause he made, came a backward recoil of that impulse which had swept him  on.
All at once he was cold, and wavered.  Gnulemah
was sitting with her elbow  on her knee, her strange
eyes fixed upon him.  Had he duly considered what
effect all this might have on her?  In aiming at his




BALDER TELLS AN UNTRUTH.            253
own life, might not the sword pass also  through
hers? Abruptly to behold sin, —to find in the first
man she had learnt to know, the sinner, — to be left
with this burden on her untried soul, -might this
not ruin more than her earthly happiness? Did she
still love him, such love could end only in misery;
should she hate him  who of all men was bound to
protect her defencelessness, - that were misery indeed!
This misgiving, arresting his hand at the instant of
delivering the final blow, almost discouraged the muchtried man.  He glanced sullenly toward the edge of
the  cliff, only a few  yards off.  A  new  thought
jarred through his nerves! He got up and walked to
the brink. Full sixty feet to the bottom.
Gnulemah also rose slowly, and stretched herself
like a tired child, sending a lazy tension through every
noble limb and polished muscle.  She sighed with a
deep breathing in and out, and pressed her hands
against her temples.
"I was not made to understand such things.  Tell
me of what you have done or seen,- I shall understand that.  The things my love does not enter only
trouble me and make me sad."
As she spoke, she turned away towards the house.
She saw, or thought she saw, a man's figure stealing
cautiously behind a clump of bushes near the north)*




254                 IDOLATRY.
eastern corner.  Her listlessness fell from  her like
a mantle, and she watched, motionless!
Her last words had goaded Balder past bearing. As
she turned away, his face looked grim and forlorn. He
balanced with half-raised arms on the cliff's brink.
The river slumbered bluely on below, peace was aloft
in the sky, and joy in the trees and grass. But in the
man were darkness and despair and loathing of his
God-given life!
The thing he meditated was not to be, however.
Close in shore a little boat glided into view, beating up
against stream. In the stern, the sheet in one hand
and the tiller in the other, sat Balder's old friend
Charon. He nodded up at the young man with a
recognizing grin.  Then he laid his tiller-hand aside
his brown cheek and sang out, -
"Look out there, Capt'n! Davy Jones's got back,
run foul of you! "
The next moment he put clown the helm and ran
out.
Meantime Balder, coloring from shame, had stepped
back from his dangerous position; and the peril was
past. But the paltering irresolution which he had at
all points displayed urged him to redeem himself,else was he lower than a criminal.  He went towards
Gnulemah, -  knelt down, -- caught her dress, -  he
knew not what he did! In a blind dance of sentences




BALDER TELLS AN UNTRUTH.           255
he told her that he was a murderer, that all he had
said pointed at himself, that with his own hands he
had killed Hiero, whose body now lay at the bottom
of the sea; many frantic words he spoke.  Thus,
without art or rhetoric, roughly dragged forth by head
and ears, came his momentous confession into the
world.  Gnulemah had more than once striven to
check it, but in vain. When he had come to an end,
and stood tense and quivering as a bowstring whose
arrow has just flown, these words reached him:
"Hiero is not dead; he is there behind the trees."
Stiffly he turned and stared bewildered. Landscape,
sky, Gnulemah, swam  before his eyes in fragments,
like images in troubled water.  She put out her arm
and tenderly supported him.
"Where?" said he at length.
" Near the house, - there!" she pointed.
Balder began to walk forward doubtfully.  But, suddenly realizing what lay before him, clearness and
vigor ebbed back. He saw a figure turn the corner of
the house. Then he leapt out and ran like a staghound!




XXIV.
UNCLE HIERO AT LAST.
IN a couple of minutes Balder was at the house,
breathless: the figure was nowhere to be seen.
He sprang across the.broad portico, and hurried with
sounding feet through the oaken hall.  Should he go
up stairs, or on to the conservatory? The sound of a
softly shutting door from the latter direction decided
him. The place looked as when he left it a half-hour
before. Gnulemah's curtain had not been moved. The
other door was closed; he ran up the steps between
the granite sphinxes, and found it locked. Butting his
shoulder against the panel with impatient force, the
hinges broke from  their rotten fastenings, and the
door gave inwards. Balder stepped past it, and found
himself in the sombre lamp-lit interior of the granite
temple.
He could discern but little; the place seemed vast;
the corners were veiled in profound shadow. At the
farther end a huge lamp was suspended, by a chain
from the roof, over a triangular altar of black marble.
The architecture of the room was strange and massive,




UNCLE HIERO AT LAST.              257
as of Egyptian temples.  Strong, dark colors met the
eye on all sides; in the panels of the walls and distant ceiling fantastic devices showed obscurely forth.
Nine mighty columns, of design like those in the
doorway, were ranged along the walls, their capitals
buried in the upward gloom.
Becoming used to the dusk, Balder now marked an
array of colossal upright forms, alternating between
the pillars.  Their rough resemblance to human figures
drew him  towards one of them: it was an Egyptian
sarcophagus covered with  hieroglyphic inscriptions,
and probably holding an immemorial mass of spiced
flesh and rags.  These silent relics of a prehistoric
past seemed to be the only company present.  In
view  of his uncle's well-known tastes, the nephew
was not unprepared to meet these gentry.
But he was come to         to seek the living, not the dead.
The figure that he had seen outside must be within
these four walls, there being no other visible outlet
besides the door through which Balder had entered.
Was old  Hiero Glyphic lurking  in one of these
darksome corners, or behind some thick-set column?
The young man looked about him  as sharply as he
could, but nothing moved except the shadows thrown
by the lamp, which was vibrating pendulum-like cn
its long chain.
He approached this lamp, his steps echoing on the
r)




258                   IDOLATRY.
floor of polished granite.  What had set the thing
swinging?  It had a leisurely elliptical motion, as
from  a moderate  push  sideways.  The lamp  was
wrought in bronze, antique of fashion and ornament.
It had capacity for gallons of oil, and would burn
for weeks without refilling.  The altar beneath was
a plain black marble prism, highly polished, resting
upon a round base of alabaster.  A handful of ashes
crowned its top.  Between the altar and the wall intervened a space of about seven feet.
The glare of the lamp had blinded Balder to what
was beyond it; but, on stepping round it, he was
confronted by an old-fashioned upright clock, such as
were in vogue upon staircase-landings and in entrancehalls a hundred years ago.  With its broad, white
dial-plate, high shoulders, and dark mahogany case,
it looked not unlike a tall, flat-featured man, holding
himself stiffly erect.  But whether man or clock, it
was lifeless; the hands were motionless, — there was
no sound of human or mechanical heart-beat within,
though Balder held his yet panting breath to listen!
Was it Time's coffin, wherein his corpse had lain for
many a silent year, - only that years must stand still
without Time to drive them on! But this still hall
had no part in the moving world, -  knew  naught
of life and change, day and night.  Here dwelt a
moveless present, -a present at once past and to




UNCLE HIERO AT LAST.            259
come, yet never here! No wonder the mummies felt
at home! though even they could only partially appreciate the situation.
The clock was fastened  against the wall.  The
longer Balder gazed at it, the more human-like did
it appear. Its face was ornamented with colored pictures of astronomical processes, sufficiently resembling
a set of shadowy features, of a depressed and insignificant type. The mahogany case served for a closefitting brown surtout, buttoned to the chin. The slow
vibration of the lamp produced on the countenance
the similitude of a periodically recurring grimace.
Not only did the clock look human, but —or so
Balder fancied-it bore a grotesque and extravagant
likeness to a certain elderly relative of his, whose
portrait he had carried in aninner pocket of his haversack, - now in Long Island Sound. It reminded him,
in a word, of poor old Uncle Hiero, whom he had
-no, no!- who was alive and well, and was perhaps even now  observing his dear nephew's perplexity, and maliciously chuckling over it!
The young man glanced uneasily over his shoulder, but all beyond the lamp was a gloomy blank.
The same moment he trod upon some tough, thick
substance, which  yielded beneath his foot! Thoroughly startled, he jumped back. It lay near the
foot of the clock.  He stooped, picked it up, and




260                   IDOLATRY.
held in his hands the well-known haversack, from
which he had parted on board the "Empire State."
How  his heart beat as he examined it!  It was
stained and whitened with salt water, and the strap
was broken in two.  Opening it, there were his toilet
articles and all his other treasures, —even the cherished  miniature, —  not much  the worse for their
wetting. So there could no longer be any doubt that
his uncle had come back. Where was he?
That queer fancy about the clock stuck in Balder's
head!  Somehow or other it must be connected with
Doctor Glyphic.  The haversack, dropped at its foot,
was direct evidence.  Yet, did ever wise man harbor
notion so irrational! Its manifest absurdity was the
only excuse for thinking it.
With no declared object in view, Balder grasped
the clock by its high shoulders and shook it, but
with  no  result.  He  next struck  the mahogany
smartly with clenched fist: the blow  sounded, -- not
hollow, but close and muffled! The case must be
either solid, or filled with something that deadened
the echo.  Filled with what? who would think of
putting anything in a clock? It was big enough,
to be sure, to hold a man, if he could find a way to
get in!
The sequence  of thoughts is often obscure, but
Balder's next idea, wild as it was, could hardly be




UNCLE HIERO AT LAST.             261
called incoherent. A man might be conceived to be
in the clock; perhaps a man was in it; but if so, the
man could be none other than Doctor Hiero Glyphic!
This conclusion once imagined, suspense was unendurable. The logician tried to open the front of the
case, but it was riveted fast. With impetuous fingers
he then wrenched at the disc. With a sound like a
rusty screech, it came off in his hands.  The lamp so
flickered that Balder feared it was going out, and even
at this epoch had to look round to reassure himself.
Meanwhile, a pungent, but not unpleasant odor saluted
his nostrils: he turned back to the clock,- a clock no
longer!- and  beheld the unmistakable lineaments
of his worthy uncle peeping forth with half-shut eyes
from the place where the dial-plate had been.
The nephew  dropped the dial-plate, and it was
shattered on the granite floor.  He was badly frightened. There was no delusion about the face, - it was
a sufficiently peculiar one; and the miniature portrait,
though doing the Doctor's beauty at least justice, was
accurate enough to identify him  by. This was no
unsubstantial apparition,-no brain phantom, to waver
and vanish, leaving  only an  uncomfortable doubt
whether it had been at all.  Stolid, undeniable matter
it was, peering phlegmatically between its wrinkled
eyelids.
But admitting that now, at last, we have lighted




262                  IDOLATRY.
upon the genuine and authentic Doctor Glyphic, why
should the sight of him so oddly affect Balder Helwyse,
whose avowed object in pulling off the dial-plate had
been to justify a suspicion that Uncle Hiero was
behind it? Why, moreover, did the young man not
address his relative, congratulating himself upon their
meeting, and rallying the old gentleman on his attempt
to escape his nephew's affectionate solicitude?  There
had, indeed, been a misunderstanding at their last
encounter, and Balder had so far forgotten himself
as to throw  Hiero into the sea; but it was the part
of good-breeding, as well as of Christianity, to forget
such errors, and heal the bruise with an extra application of balsamic verbiage.
Why so speechless, Balder?  Do you wait for your
host to speak first? Nay, never stand on ceremony.
He is an eccentric recluse, unused to the ways of
society, while a man of the world like you has at his
tongue's tip a score of phrases just suited to the
occasion.  Speak up, therefore, in your most. genial
tone, and tell the Doctor how glad you are to find him
in such wonderful preservation! Put him at his ease
by feigning that his position appears to you the most
natural in the world, —just what befits a gentleman
of his years and honors! Flatter him, if only from
self-interest, for he has a deep pocket, and may be
induced to let you put a hand in it.




UNCLE HIERO AT LAST.              263
Not a word in response to all this eloquence, Balder?
Positively your behavior appears rather curmudgeonly
than heroic! You stand gazing at your relative with
almost as much fixedness as he returns your stare
withal. There is something odd about this.
What is that pungent odor?  Is the Doctor a
dandy, that he should use perfumes?  And where did
he get so peculiar a scent as this? It is commonly in
vogue only at that particular toilet which no man ever
performed for himself, but which never needs to be
done twice, — a kind of toilet, by the way, especially
prevalent amongst the ancient Egyptians.  Since, then,
Doctor Glyphic is so ardent an' Egyptologist, perhaps
we have hit upon the secret of his remarkable odoriferousness.  But to shut one's self up in a box that
looks so uncommonly like a coffin, - is not that carrying the antiquarian whim a trifle too far?
This face of his, -one fancies there is a curiously
dry look about it!  The unnaturally yellow skin resembles a piece of good-for-nothing wrinkled parchment.  The lips partake of the prevailing sallow tint,
and the mouth hangs a little awry.  From  the cloth
in which the head is so elaborately bandaged up strays
forth, here and there, an arid lock of hair.  The lack
of united expression in his features produces an effect
seldom  observable in a living face.  The eyes are
lustreless, and densely black; or possibly (the sus



264                  IDOLATRY.
picion is a startling one) we are looking into empty
eye-sockets! No eyes, no expression, parchment skin,
swathed head, odor of myrrh and cassia, and, dominating all, this ghastly immobility! Has Doctor Glyphic
even now escaped, leaving us to waste time and sentiment over some worn-out disguise of his?  Nay, if he
be not here, we need not seek him  further.  Having
forsaken this, he can attain no other earthly hidingplace.  We must pause here, and believe either that
this dry time-husk is the very last of poor Hiero, or
that a living being which once bore his name has
vanished inward from  our reach, and now treads a
more real earth than any that time and space are
sovereign over.
Balder (whose perceptions were unlimited by artistic
requirements) probably needed no second glance to assure him that his uncle was a mummy of many years'
standing.  But no effort of mental gymnastics could
explain him  the fact.  Were this real, then was his
steamboat adventure a dream, the revelation of the
ring a delusion, and his water-stained haversack a
phantom.  He wandered clewless in a maze of mystery.  Nor was this the first paradox he had encountered since overleaping the brick wall.  He began to
question whether supernaturalism  had not been too
hastily dismissed by lovers of wisdom!
Thus do the actors in the play of life plod from one




UNCLE HIERO AT LAST.             265
to another scene, nor once rise to a height whence a
glance might survey past and future.  Memory and
prophecy are twin sisters, —nay, they are essentially
one muse, whom mankind worships on this side and
slights on that. This is well, for had she but one
aspect, the world would be either too confident or too
helpless. But in reviewing a life, one is apt to make
less than due allowance for the helplessness. Thus it
is no prejudice to Balder's intellectual acumen that he
failed for a moment to penetrate the thin disguises of
events, and to perceive relations obvious to the comprehensive view of history. We will take advantage
of his bewildered pause to draw attention to some
matters heretofore neglected.
12




XXV.
THE HAPPINESS OF MAN.
Wi        HEN Manetho, - who shall no longer perplex
us with his theft of a worthier man's name, -
when Manetho felt himself worsted in the brief strenuous struggle, he tried to drag his antagonist overboard
with him. But his convulsive fingers seized only the
leathern strap of the haversack. Balder -his Berserker fury at white heat — flung the man with such
terrible strength as drove him headlong over the taffrail like a billet of wood, the stout strap snapping like
thread!
Manetho struck the water in sorry plight, breathless, bruised, half strangled.  He sank to a chilly
depth, but carried his wits down with him, and these
brought him up again alive, however exhausted. Too
weak to swim, he yet had strength left to keep afloat.
But for the collision, he had drowned, after all!
The cool salt bath presently helped him to a little
energy, and by the time the steamer was under way,
he could think of striking out. It was with no small
relief that he heard near voices sounding through the




THE HAPPINESS OF MAN.            267
black fog. Partly by dint of feeble struggles, partly
shouldered on by waves, - ready to save as to drown
him, -he managed to accomplish the short distance
to the schooner. With all his mighlt he shouted for
a rope, and amidst much yo-heave-ho-ing, cursing, and
astonishment, was at length hauled aboard, the haversack in his grasp.
The skipper and his crew were kind to him; for
men still have compassion upon one another, and
give succor according to the need of the moment,not to the balance of good and evil in the sufferer.
The wind  freshened, an  impromptu  bowsprit was
rigged, and the "Resurrection" limped towards New
York, Manetho's partial stupor was relieved by hot
grog and the cook's stove.  He gave no further account of himself than that he had fallen overboard
at the moment of collision; adding a request to be
landed in New York, since he had left some valuable luggage on the steamer.
The skipper gave the stranger his own bunk, the
off-watch turned in, and Manetho was left to himself.  He lay for a long while thinking over what
had happened. Bewitched by the spell of night, he
had spoken to Helwyse things never before distinctly
stated even to his own mind.  The subtle, perverse
devil who had discoursed so freely to his unknown
hearer had scarcely been so unreserved to Manetho's




268                  IDOLATRY.
private ear; and the devilish utterances had stirred
up the latter not much less than the former.
Both men had been wrought, according to their
diverse natures, to the pitch of frenzy. But similar
crazy seizures had been incident to the Egyptian
from  boyhood. He had anxiously watched against
them, and contrived various means to their mitigation,-the most successful being the music of his
violin, which he seldom let beyond his reach. Yet,
again and again would the fit steal a march on him.
Hence, in part, his retired way of life, varied only
by the brief journeys demanded  by the twofold
craving —for gambling and for news of Thor, who
figured in his morbid imagination as the enemy of
his soul!
The news never came, but all the more brooded
Manetho over his hatred  and his fancied wrongs.
His mind had never been entirely sound, and years
tinged it more and more deeply with insanity. His
philosophy of life - obscure indeed if tried by sane
standards    emits a dusky glimmer when read by
this. He would creep through miles of subterranean
passages to achieve an end which one glance above
ground would have argued vain!
Lying on the bunk in the close cabin, lighted by
a dirty lantern pendent from the roof, the Reverend
Manetho began to fear that not his worst misfortune




THE HAPPINESS OF MAN.             269
was the having been thrown overboard. At the moment when  madness was smouldering  to a blaze
within him, the lantern flash had revealed to him
the face which, for twenty years, he had seen in visions.  Often had he rehearsed this meeting, varying
his imaginary behavior to suit all conceivable moods
and attitudes of his enemy, but never thinking to
provide for perversity in himself! So far from veiling his designs with the soft-voiced cunning of his
Oriental nature, he had been a wild beast! A misgiving haunted him, moreover, that he had babbled
something in the false security of darkness, which
might give Helwyse a clew to his secret.
But here Manetho asked himself a question that
might have suggested itself before.  Was it really
his enemy, Thor Helwyse, whose face he had seen?
or only some likeness of him?
Thor must be threescore years old by this, —the
senior by ten years of Manetho himself; while his
late antagonist had the strength and aspect of half
that age.  Yet how could he be mistaken in the
face which had haunted him  during more than the
third part of his lifetime?  He had recognized it
on the instant!
"I will ask the haversack!" said he. He sat up,
and, bracing himself against the roll of the vessel,
he opened the bag and carefully examined its con



270                  IDOLATRY.
tents.  In an inner pocket he found an old letter
of Doctor Glyphic's to Thor; another from  Thor to
his son, dated three years back; and finally a diary
kept by Balder Helwyse, which gave Manetho all
the information he wanted.
He had so arranged matters that at Glyphic's death
he had got the control of the money into his own
hands, and had made such diligent use of it that
enough was not now left to pay for his prosecution
as a thief and forger. In fact, had Balder delayed
his return another year, he would have found the enchanted castle in possession of the auctioneer; and as
to the fate of its inhabitants, one does not like to
speculate!
Having read the papers, Manetho replaced them,
and next pulled out the miniature of Doctor Glyphic.
He studied this for a long timne. It was the portrait
of a man to whom — so long as their earthly relations
had continued —the Egyptian  renegade had  been
faithful. Perhaps there was some secret germ of excellence in poor Hiero, unsuspected by the rest of the
world, but revealed to Manetho, from whom in turn it
had drawn the best virtues that his life had to show.
Doctor Glyphic had never been a comfortable companion; but Manetho was always patient and honest
with him.  This integrity and forbearance were the
more remarkable, since the Doctor seldom  acknowl



THE HAPPINESS OF MAN.            271
edged a kindness, and knew so little of business that
he might have been robbed of his fortune at any moment with impunity.
Either from physical exhaustion or for some worthier
reason, the Egyptian cried over this miniature, as an
affectionate girl might have cried over the portrait of
her dead lover. For a time he was all tears and softness. His emotion had not the convulsiveness which,
with men of his age, is apt to accompany the exhibition
of much feeling. He wept with feminine fluency, nor
did his tearfulness seem out of character.  There was a
great deal of the woman in him.
Having wept his fill, he tenderly wiped his eyes, and
returned the picture to its receptacle; and first assuring himself that nothing else was concealed in the
haversack, he shut it up and resumed his meditations.
It was the son, then, whom he had met, -- and Thor
was dead. Dead!    that was a hard fact for Manetho
to swallow. His enemy had escaped him, -was dead!
Through all the years of waiting, Manetho had not
anticipated this. How should Thor die before revenge
had been wreaked upon him?- But he was dead!
By degrees, however, his mind began to adjust itself
to the situation. The son, at all events, was left him.
He cuddled the thought, whispering to himself and
slyly smiling. Did not the father live again in the
son? he would lose nothing, therefore, - not lose, but




272                 IDOLATRY.
gain! The seeming loss was a blessing in disguise.
The son, - young, handsome, hot of blood! Already
new schemes began to take shape in the Egyptian's
brain. His dear revenge!  it should not starve, but
feed on the fat of the land, -yea, be drunk with
strong wine.
He lay hugging himself, his long narrow eyes gleaming, his full lips working together. He was revolving
a devilish project,- the flintiest criminal might have
shuddered at it. But there was nothing flinty nor unfeeling about Manetho. His emotions were alert and
moist, his smile came and went, his heart beat full; he
was now the girl listening to her lover's first passionate
declaration!
He had gathered from Balder's diary that the young
man was in search of his uncle, and had been on his
way to the house at the time of their encounter. There
was a chance that this unlucky episode might frighten
him away.  He no doubt supposed himself guilty of
manslaughter at least; how gladly would the clergyman have reassured him! And indeed there was no
resentment in Manetho's heart because of his rough
usage at Balder's hands. His purposes lay too deep to
influence shallower moods.  He presented a curious
mixture of easy forgiveness and unmitigable malice.
The only other anxiety besetting him arose from the
loss of the ring. He looked upon it as a talisman of




THE HAPPINESS OF MAN.            273
excellent virtue, and moreover perceived that in case
Balder should pick it up, it might become the means
of identifying its owner and obstructing his plans.
But these were mere contingencies. The probability
was that young Helwyse would ultimately appear at
his uncle's house, and would there be ensnared in the
seductive meshes of Manetho's web.  The ring was
most likely at the bottom  of the Sound. So, smiling
his subtle feminine smile, the Egyptian fell asleep, to
dream of the cordial welcome he would give his expected guest.
Towards midnight of the same day he approaches
the house by way of the winding avenue, his violincase safe in hand. I-e steps out joyfully beneath the
wide-spread minuet of twinkling stars. On his way he
comes to a moss-grown bench at the foot of a mighty
elm, -the bench on which he sat with Helen during
the stirring moments of their last interview. Manetho's
soul overflows to-night with flattering hopes, and he
has spare emotion for any demand. He drops on his
knees beside this decayed old bench, and kiss.es it
twice or thrice with tender vehemence; stretches out
his arms to embrace the air, and ripples forth a halfdozen sentences, - pleading, insinuating, passionate.
He can love her again as much as ever, now that the
wrong done him is on the eve of requital.
But his mood is no less fickle than melting. Al12* 




274                   IDOLATRY.
ready he is up and away, almost dancing along the
shadowed, romantic tree-aisle, his eyes glistening black
in the starlight, -no longer with a lover's luxurious
sorrow, but with the happy anticipation of an artless
child, promised a holiday and playthings. So lightsome
and expansive is Manetho's heart, the hollow hemisphere of heaven seems none too roomy for it!
Evil as well as good knows its moments of bliss, 
its hours! Hell is the heaven of devils, and they
want no better.  Often do the wages of sin come
laden with a seeming blessing that those of virtue
lack.  The sinner looks upon Satan's face, and it is
to him  as the face of God!
But from  the womb of this grim  truth is born a
noble consolation.  Were hell mere torment, and joy
in heaven only, where were the good man's merit?
Only when the choice lies between two heavens —
the selfish and the unselfish —is the battle worthy
the fighting! No human soul dies from  earth that
attains not heaven, - that heaven which the heart
chiefly sought while in this world; and herefrom  is
the genesis of virtue.  Sin brings its self-inflicted penalties there as here; but hell is still the happiness
of man, heaven of God!
Reaching the house, Manetho passed through the
open door, crossed the hall with his customary noiselessness, and entered the conservatory. Despite the




THE HAPPINESS OF MAN.            275
darkness, he was at once aware of the motionless
group beneath the palm-trees. A stranger in the house
was something so unprecedented that he could not
repress a throb of alarm. Nurse looked up and beckoned him. Drawing near, he heard the long, deep
breathing of the sleeper. With a sudden fore-glimpse
of the truth, he knelt down, and bent over the upturned countenance.
Though the beard was close-shaven and the hair
cropped short, there could be no doubt about the face.
His guest had come before him, and was lying defenceless at his feet; but Manetho harbored no thought of
violence. He pressed his slender hands together with
an impulse of sympathy. "Poor fellow!" he whispered, "how  he has suffered! How  the horror of
blood-guiltiness must have tortured him! The noble
Helwyse hair, -all gone! Too dear a price to pay
for the mere sacrifice of a human life! And pain
and all might have been spared him, — poor fellow!
poor fellow!"  Manetho lacked but little of shedding
true tears over the evidence of his dearest foe's useless dread and anguish. Did he wish Balder to bring
undulled nerves to his own torture-chamber?
His lament over, Manetho turned to Nurse for such
information regarding the guest's arrival and behavior
as she might have to- communicate. Of his own affair
with Balder he made no mention. The conversation




276                  IDOLATRY.
was carried on by signs, according to a code long since
grown up between the two. When the tale was told,
Nurse was despatched to make ready Helen's room
for the new-comer, and thither did the two laboriously
bear him, and laid him, still sleeping, on his mother's
bed.




XXVI.
MUSIC AND  MADNESS.
B EFORE leaving Balder to his repose, Manetho
paused to regain his breath, and to throw  a
glance round the room.  It was a place he seldom
visited. He had seen Helen's dead body lie on that
bed, and the sight had bred in him  an animosity
against the chamber and everything it contained.
After Doctor Glyphic's death he had gratified this feeling in a characteristic manner. Possessing a genius
for drawing second only to that for music, he had exercised it on the walls of the room, originally modelled
and tinted to represent a robin's egg. He mixed his
colors with the bitter distillations of his heart, and
created the beautiful but ill-omened vision which long
afterwards so disquieted Balder. 
From the chamber he now repaired to the kitchen,
which was in some respects the most attractive place in
the house. The smoky ceiling; the cavernous cupboards
opening into the walls; the stanch dressers, polished by
use and mottled with many an ancient stain; the great
black range, which would have cooked a meal for a




278                  IDOLATRY.
troop of men-at-arms, - all spoke of homely human
comfort. Nurse had Manetho's meal ready for him,
and, having set it out on the table, she retired to
her position in the chimney-corner. The Egyptian's
spare body was ordinarily nourished with little more
than goes to the support of an Arab, and Nurse's
monotonous life must have been unfavorable to large
appetite. As for Gnulemah, - although young women
are said to thrive and grow beautiful on a diet of
morning dew, noonday sunshine, and evening mist,
-it seems quite likely that she ate no less than
the health and activity of a Diana might naturally
require.
Manetho made a gleeful repast, and Nurse looked
on -from her corner, externally as unattractive-looking
a woman as one would wish to see. Nevertheless, had
she been made as some clocks are, with a plate of
glass over her inner movements, she would have
monopolized the clergyman's attention and impaired
his appetite. He did not sit down to the table, but
took up one viand after another, and ate as he walked
to and fro the floor. Supper over, he crowned it with
an unheard-of excess, - for Manetho was commonly a
very temperate man. He brought from a cupboard a
dusty bottle of priceless wine, which had once enriched
the cellar of a king of Spain. Drawing the cork, he
poured some of the golden liquor into a slender glass,




MUSIC AND MADNESS.              279
while the spiritual aroma flowed invisible along the
air, visiting every darksome' nook, and even saluting
Nurse, who had long been a stranger to any such
delicate attention.
MIanetho filled two glasses, and then beckoned Nurse
to come from her corner, and drink with him. Forth
she hobbled accordingly, looking more than usually
ugly by reason of her surprise and embarrassment at
the unexpected summons.  Manetho, on the other hand,
seemed to have cast aside his years, and to be once
more the graceful, sinuous, courteous youth, whose
long black eyes had, long ago, seen Salome's heart.
With an elegant gesture he handed her the brimming
wineglass, accompanying it with a smile which wellnigh shook it from between her fingers. He took up
his own glass, and said," I seldom drink wine, Nurse, - never, unless a lady
joins me! Once I drank with her whose chamber
our guest now occupies; and once with another -"
Manetho paused.  "I never speak her name, Nurse;
but we loved each other.  I did not treat her well!"
he murmured with a sigh, tears in his eyes. " Were
she here to-night, at her feet would I sue for pardon,the renewal of our love. By my soul!" he cried, suddenly, "I had thought to drink a far different toast;
but let this glass be drained to the memory of the
sweet moments  she and I have known together!
Drink!"




280                  IDOLATRY.
He tossed off the wine. But poor Nurse, strangely
agitated, dropped hers on the floor; the precious liquor
was spilled, and the glass shivered. She gazed beseechingly at Manetho.  Could he not penetrate that
mask to the face behind it?  Is flesh so miserably
opaque that no spark of the inwardly burning soul can
make itself felt or seen without? Manetho saw only
the broken glass and its wasted contents!
"You are as clumsy as you are ugly!" said he.
"Go back to your corner. I must converse with'my
violin."
She returned  heavily to her place, feeling  the
darker and colder because that wine had been spilled
before she could raise it to her lips. One taste, she
fancied, might have begun a transformation in her life!
But we know not the weight of the chains we lay
upon our limbs.
The Egyptian's buoyant humor had dismissed the
whole matter in another moment.  He opened his
violin-case, lovingly caressing the instrument as he
took it out. Then he tucked it fondly under his chin,
and resumed his walking.  The delicately potent wine
warbled through his nerves, and tinted memory with
imagination.
The bow, traversing the strings, drew forth from
them  a sweet and plaintive note, like the tender
remonstrance of a neglected friend. No language says




MUSIC AND MADNESS.             281
so much in so short space as music, nor will, till we
banish those dead bones, consonants, and adopt the
pure vowel speech of infants and angels.
" Ay, long have we been apart, my beloved one, and
much have I needed thee!" murmured Manetho. "I
yearned for thy soothing and refreshing voice; yea,
death walked near me, because thou, my preserver,
wast not by to guard me. But, rejoice! all is again
well with us, - the hour of our triumph is near! "
The fine instrument responded, carolling forth an
exquisite psean,- an ascending scale, mounting to a
breathless ecstasy, and falling in slower melody along
gliding waves of fortunate sound. The player drank
each perfect note, till his pulses beat in unison with
the rhythm. His violin and he were wedded lovers
since his youth, nor had discord ever come between
them.
"Two little children weaving flower-chains for each
other in the grass. I said,'The one that first comes
to me shall be mine!' And the little maiden arose,
leaving her brother among the flowers. So one was
taken and the other left. But, behold! the brother
has come to play with his sister once more "
Again the music — a divine philosopher's stone —
touched the theme into fine-spun golden harmony.
The dusky kitchen, with its one dull lamp glimmering
on the table, broadened with marble floors, and sprang




282                   IDOLATRY.
aloft in airy arches!  Twinkling stars hung between
the columns, burning with a fragrance like flowers.  It
was a summer morning, just before sunrise.  The clear
faces of children peeped from violet-strewn recesses
where they had passed the night; and, as their sweet
eyes met, they shouted for joy, and ran to embrace one
another.
" Oh! my beloved," softly burst forth the Egyptian,
"how  blessed are we to-night "   He touched the
strings to a measured tune, following with a minuetstep up and down the floor. A  fantastic spectacle!
for as he passed and repassed the lamp, an elastic
shadow crept noiselessly behind him, dodged beneath
his feet, and anon outstretched itself like a sudden
pit yawning before him.  "This night repays the
dreary years that lie behind. How have I outlasted
them! What had I fallen on the very threshold of
requital?- all I had hoped and labored for, a failure! "
Here paused the tune and the dance, and arose a
weird dirge of compassion over what might have been!
So moving was it, the player himself was melted.  His
dark nature showed its fairest side, - sensitive refinement, grace of expression, flowing ease of manner.
Quick was he in fancy, emotional, soft and strong,
gentle and fiery. In this hour he bloomed, like some
night-flowering plant, of perfume sweet but poisonous.
This was Manetho's apogee!




MUSIC AND MADNESS.             283
Again his humor changed, and he became playful
and frivolous.  Had old Nurse in the corner been
a little  more personable, he  might have  caught
her round the waist, and forced her to tread a wild
measure with him. But this unfolding of his faculties in the shower of good fortune had refined his
aesthetic susceptibility. The withered, disfigured woman was no partner for him!
She sat, following, with the intentness of her single
eye, his every motion, her head swaying in unconscious sympathy. Although her body sat so stiff and
awkward in the chimney-seat, her spirit, inspired with
the grace of love, was dancing with Manetho's. But
the body kept its place, knowing that erelong he too
must come to rest. In the light of a vivid recollection, the long tract between fades and foreshortens,
till only the Then and the Now are notable. However, the light will pale, the dusty miles outstretch
their length once more, and the pilgrim find himself
wearier than ever.
But meanwhile the clergyman floats hither and
thither like a wreath of black smoke blown about
by a draught of air.  One might, have expected to
see him all at once vanish up the wide-mouthed chimney. The music seems to emanate less from the instrument than from the player; it interprets and colors
every motion and expression.  His chanting and his




284                    IDOLATRY.
playing answer and supplement each other, like strophe and antistrophe.
"Let me tell thee why I rejoice, that thy sympathy
may increase my joy!
"A beautiful woman, young, a fountain of fresh life,
an ivory vase filled with earthly flowers.  The eye
that gazes on  her form  is taken  captive; yea, her
face intoxicates the senses. But she is poisonous, a
queen of death, and her feet walk towards destruction 
"Supple and strong is she as the serpent, quick
and graceful as the panther.  Food has she for nourishment, for the warming of the blood; exercises for
the body, to keep her healthful and fair.  Her triumph
is in the flesh,-.she finds it perfect.  The flesh she
deems divine,-  the earth, a heaven!
"Books, the world of men, — she knows not: sees
in herself Creation's cause and centre; in God, but
the myriad reflex of her beauty.  Self is her God,
whom  she worships in thunder and lightning, in sun
and stars, in fire and water.  Dreaming and waking
are alike real to her: she knows not to divide truth
from  falsehood.
"Whom  should she thank for health, for life and
birth?  She is born of the fire that burns in her own
bosom.  To her is nothing lawful nor unlawful.  No
tie binds her soul to salvation. A fair ship is she,




MUSIC AND MADNESS.              285
but rudderless, and the wind blows on the rocks.  Let
God save her if He will - and can! "
The inspiration of the Arab improvisatore would
have seemed tame beside Manetho's nervous exaltation. Save for the tingling satire of the violin-strings,
his rhapsody might easily have lapsed to madness.
From  this point, however, his  rapture  somewhat
abated, and he began to descend towards prose, his
music clothing him downwards.
" As for me, I have bowed down before her, pampering her insolent majesty, preserving her poison to
rancor first in her father's heart.  Of him, death robbed
me; but the son,-  the brother is left. Even death
spared brother and sister to each other!
"A handsome man! worthy to stand by her. Never
fairer couple sprang from one stem. They love each
other,- and shall love!- more than ever brother and
sister loved before. But they shall be bound by a tie
so close that the mere tie of blood hangs loose beside
it! Then shall night come down on them,    a night
no rising sun shall ever chase away. In that darkness
will I speak-"
This devilish monologue ended abruptly here. The
faithful instrument, whose responsive sympathy had
never failed him, jarringly snapped a string! A sting
of anguish pricked through Manetho's every nerve.
His fictitious buoyancy evaporated like steam,-he




286                 IDOLATRY.
barely made shift to totter to a chair. Laying the
violin with tremling hands on the table, his head
dropped on his arms beside it; and there was a long,
feverish silence.
At length he raised his haggard face, and, supporting
it upon his hands, he gazed at the figure in the chimney-corner; and began, in a tone sullen and devoid of
animation as November rain, 
"Why did you force yourself upon me? —not for
Gnulemah's sake, I think. Not for money, —you have
had none. Not for love of me either, I fancy, - grisly
harpy!
"Once I suspected you of being a spy. You walked
among pitfalls then!  But what spy would sit for
eighteen years without speech or movement?  You
have been useful too. No one could have filled your
place, -with your one eye and dumb mouth!
"Did you hate Thor? were you my secret ally
against him?  But how could you fathom  my purposes enough even to help me? And what wrong has
he done you terrible enough for such revenge as mine?
What human being, except Manetho, could hold an
unwavering purpose so many years? Have you never
pitied or relented? Sometimes I have almost wavered
myself!
"What name and history have you buried, and never
shown me? Why have you spent your dumb life'in




MUSIC AND MADNESS.            287
this seclusion? You are a mystery, - yet a mystery
of my own making!  I might as wisely dissect my
violin to find where lurks the music. A mass of wood
and strings, - the music is from me!
" Have you a thought of preventing the scheme I
spoke of to-night?"  The Egyptian leaned far across
the table, the better to scrutinize the unanswering
woman's face. Her eye met his with a steady intelligence that disconcerted him.
"Are you a woman?" he muttered, drawing back,
"and have you no pity on the children whom you
nursed in their infancy?   not any pity! as implacable
- almost more implacable than I? But think of her
beauty and innocence, — for is she not innocent as
yet? Would you see her forever ruined, - and stretch
forth no saving hand?"  Nurse moved her head up
and down, as in slow, deliberate assent.  Manetho,
beholding the reflection in her of his own moral deformity, was filled with abhorrence!
" More hideous within than without,- you demon!
come to haunt me and make me wicked as -yourself.
It was you snapped the chord of my music,- that
better spirit which had till then saved me from your
spells! My evil genius! I know you now, though
never until this moment."
This madman was not the first sinner who, happening to catch an outside glimpse of his interior grime,




288                   IDOLATRY.
has tried to cheat his scared conscience by an outcry
of "Devil!  devil!"  Is there not a touch of pathos
in the vanity of the situation?  For the cry is in part
sincere; no man can be so wholly evil, while in this
world, as quite to divorce the better angel from his
soul. But alas! for the poor righteous indignation.




XXVII.
PEACE AND GOOD-WILL
B ALDER  HELWYSE, dumfoundec  before the
revelation of the clock, might have stared himself into imbecility, had not he heard his name spoken
in sweet human music, and, turning, beheld Gnulemah
peeping through the doorway down the hall.
There was no great distance between them, yet she
seemed immeasurable spaces away. Against the bright
background of the conservatory her form stood dark, the
outlines softened by semi-transparent edges of drapery.
But the dull red lamplight lit duskily up the folds of
her robe, her golden ornaments, and the black tarns,
her eyes. She appeared to waver between the light of
heaven and the lurid gloom of heaven's opposite.
Balder came hastily towards her, waving her back.
He was superstitiously anxious that she should return unshadowed to the clear outer sunshine, instead
of joining him  in this tomb of dead bones and
darkness.  Darkness might indeed befriend his own
imperfections; but should Gnulemah be dimmed to
soothe his vanity?
13                          S




290                  IDOLATRY.
Such emblematic fancies are common to lovers,
whose ideal passion tends always to symbolism.  But
to those who have never loved, it will be enough to say
that the young man felt an instinctive desire to spare
Gnulemah the ugly spectacle in the clock, apd was
perhaps not unwilling to escape from it himself!
She awaited him, in the bright doorway, like an
angel come to lead him to a better world. "Do not
leave me any more!" she said, putting her hand in
his. "You did not do the thing you thought.  Let
us be together, and dream no more such sadness!"
"Is her innocence strong enough to protect her
against that sinful deluge of confession I poured out
upon her?" thought Helwyse, glancing at her face.
"Has it fallen from her harmless, like water from a
bird's breast? And am I after all no murderer?"
Doubt nor accusation was in her eyes, but soft
feminine faith. Her eyes,    rather than have lost
the deep  intelligence of their dark light, Balder
would have consented to blotting from  heaven its
host of stars!  Through them  shone on him, - not
justice, but the divine injustice of woman's love!
That wondrous bond, more subtile than light, and
more enduring than adamant, had leagued her to him.
Consecrated by the blessing of her trust, he must not
dare distrust himself. If the past were blindly wrong,
she was the God-given clew to guide him right.




PEACE AND GOOD-WILL.             291
An unspeakable tenderness melted them  both,him for what he received, her for what she gave. The
rich bud of their love bloomed at once in full, fragrant
stateliness. Their hearts, left unprotected by their
out-opened arms, demanded shelter, and found it in
nestling on each other. Heaven touched earth in the
tremulous, fiery calm of their meeting lips, - magnets
whose currents flowed from the mysterious poles of
humanity.
At such moments -  the happiest life counts but
few -  angels draw near, but veil their happy eyes.
Spirits of evil grind their teeth and frown; and, for
one awful instant, perceive their own deformity!
Before yet that dear embrace had lasted an eternity,
the man felt the woman shiver in his arms. The
celestial heights and spaces dwindled, the angelic
music fainted.  Heaven Tolled back and left them
alone on earth. Manetho stood on the threshold between the sphinxes, wearing such a smile as God has
never doomed us to see on a child's face!
To few  men comes the opportunity of facing in
this life those whom they believed they had put out
of it. One might expect the palpable assurance of
the victim's survival would electrify the fancied murderer. But to Balder's mind, his personal responsibility could not be thus lightened; and any emotion
of selfish' relief was therefore denied him.  On the




292                   IDOLATRY.
other hand, such inferences as he had been able to
draw from things seen and heard were not to Manetho's advantage.  While he could not but rejoice to
have been spared actually hurrying a soul from  the
life of free will to an unchangeable eternity, yet his
dominant instinct was to man himself for the hostile issues still to arise.  He looked at the being
through whom  his own life had received so dark a
stain with stern, keen eyes.
Gnulemah remained within the circle of her lover's
arm.  She seemed but little interested in Manetho's
appearance, save in so far as he invaded the sanctity
of her new immortal privilege. She had never known
anxiety on his account; he had never appealed to her
feeling for himself. If she loved him, it was with an
affection unconscious because untried. She had shivered in Balder's embrace at the moment of the Egyptian's presence, but before having set eyes on him.
Had the nearness of his discordant spirit - his familiar face unseen - made her conscious of an evil emanation from him, else unperceived?
Manetho, to do him justice, assumed anything but
a hostile attitude. His pleasure at seeing the pair so
well affected towards each other was plainly manifested. He clasped his hands together, then extended
them with a gesture of benediction and greeting, and
came forward.  His swarthy face, narrowing from brow




PEACE AND GOOD-WILL.             293
to chin, if it could not be frank and hearty, at least
expressed a friendliness which it had been ungracious
to mistrust.
" Yes, son of Thor, I live! God has been merciful
to both of us. Let one who knew your father take
your hand.  Believe that whatever I have felt for
him, I now feel for you, — and more!"
The speaker had cast aside the fashionable clothes
which he was in the habit of wearing during his journeys abroad, probably with a view to guard against
being conspicuous, and was clad in antique priestly
costume.  A curiously figured and embroidered robe
fell to his feet, and was confined at the waist by a long
girdle, which also passed round his shoulders, after the
manner of a Jewish ephod. It invested him with a
dignity of presence such as ordinary garments would
not have suggested.  This, combined with the unexpectedly pacific tone of his address (its somewhat
fantastic formality suiting well with that of his appearance), was not without effect on Balder. He gave his
hand with some cordiality.
"Yours, also?" continued  the other, addressing
Gnulemah with an involuntary deference that surprised her lover. She complied, as a princess to her
subject. This incident seemed to indicate their position relatively to each other. Had the wily Egyptian
played the slave so well, as finally in good earnest to
have become one?




294                 IDOLATRY.
The three stood for a moment joined in a circle,
through which what incongruous passions were circulating! But Gnulemah soon withdrew the hand held
by Manetho, and sent it to seek the one clasped by
Balder.  The priest turned cold, and stepped back;
and, after an  appearance of mental struggle, said
huskily, 
"Hiero is forgotten; you are all for the stranger!"
"You never told me who lived beyond the wall,"
returned Gnulemah, with simple dignity; and added,
"You are no less to me than before, but Balder is
my love!"  The last words came shyly from her
lips, and she swayed gently, like a noble tree, towards
him she named.
Manetho's lips worked against each other, and his
body twitched. He was learning the difference between
theory and practice, - dream  and fact.  His subtle
schemes had been dramas enacted by variations of himself. No allowance had been made for the working of
spirit on spirit; even his special part had been designed too narrowly, with but a single governing emotion, whereas he already found himself assailed by an
anarchic host of them.
" Gnulemah  " he cried at length, "my study, - my
thought,   my purpose, - body of my hopes and
prayers!"  He knelt and bowed himself at her feet,
in the Oriental posture of worship, and went on with




PEACE AND GOOD-WILL.             295
rising passion: -"My secrets have bloomed in thy
beauty, - been music in thy voice, - darkened in thine
eyes! O my flower -fascinating, terrible! -the time
is ripe for the gathering, for the smelling of the perfume, for the kissing of the petals! I must yield thee
up, O my idol! but in thy hand are my life and my
reason, - yea, Gnulemah, thou art all I am  "
The tears, gestures, voice, with  which  Manetho
thus delivered himself, shocked the Northern taste of
Helwyse.  Through the semi-scriptural, symbolic language, he fancied he could discern a basis of materialism so revolting that the man of the world - the lover
now! - listened with shame and anger.  Here was a
professed worshipper of Gnulemah, who ascribed to
her no nobler worth than to be the incarnation of his
own desires and passions! It was abject self-idolatry,
thought Balder, masquerading as a lofty form of idealization.
The priest's mind was in a more complex condition
than Balder imagined.  His absorption in Gnulemah,
if only as she was the instrument of his dominant
purpose, must have been complete; the success (as he
deemed it) of his life was staked on her.  But, in addition to this, the unhappy man had, unwittingly, and
with the vehemence of his ill-ordered nature, grown to
love the poison-draught brewed for his enemy   When
the enemy's lips touched the cup, did Manetho first




296                  IDOLATRY.
become aware that it brimmed with the brewer's own
life-blood I
Yet it might have been foreseen. He loved her, not
because she was identified with his aims, nor even because she was beautiful, but (and not inconsistently
with his theoretical belief in her devilishness) because
she was pure and true. Under the persuasion that he
was influencing her nature in a manner only possible,
if at all, to a moral and physical despot, he had himself been ruled by her stronger and loftier spirit. The
transcendent cunning on which he had prided himself,
as regarded  his plan -of educating Gnulemah, had
amounted to little more than imbecile inaction.
As Manetho prostrated himself, and even touched
the hem of Gnulemah's robe to his forehead, Balder
looked to see her recoil; but she maintained a composure which argued her not unused to such homage.
So much evil (albeit unintentionally) had the Egyptian
done her, that she could suffer, while she slighted, his
worship.  Yet, in the height of her proud superiority to him, she turned with sweet submission to her
lover, and, obedient to his whisper, gathered up her
purple mantle and passed through the green conservatory to her own door, through which, with a backward
parting glance at her master, she superbly vanished.
Balder had disliked the scene throughout, yet his love
was greater than before. An awe of the woman whose




PEACE AND GOOD-WILL.            297
innate force could command a nature like this priest's
seemed to give his passion for her a more vigorous
fibre.
The two men were now left alone to come to what
understanding they might. Manetho rose to his feet,
obliquely eying Helwyse, and spoke with the manner and tone of true humility,"You have seen me in my weakness. I am but a
broken man, Balder Helwyse."
" We had better speak the plain truth to each other,"
said Balder, after a pause. "You can have no cause
to be friendly to me. I cannot extenuate what I did.
I think I meant to kill you."
"You were not to blame!" exclaimed the other,
vehemently, holding up his hands. "You had to deal
with a madman!"
"It is a strange train of chances has brought us.
together again; it ought to be for some good end. I:
came here unawares, and, but for this ring, should
not have known that we had met before."
"I lie under your suspicion on more accounts than
one," observed Manetho, glancing in the other's face.
"I have assumed your uncle's name, and the disposal
of his property; and I have concealed his death; but
you shall be satisfied on all points. The child, too,
Gnulemah! —I have kept her from sight and knowledge of the world, but not without reason and pur13*




298                   IDOLATRY.
pose, as you shall hear. Ah! I am but a poor broken
man, liable, as you have seen, to fits of madness and
extravagance.  You shall hear everything. And listen,
-as a witness that I shall speak truth, I will say
my say before the face of Hiero Glyphic yonder, and
upon the steps of his altar! See, I desire neither to
palliate nor falsify.  Shall we go in?"
With  some  repugnance  Helwyse  followed  the
priestly figure through the low-browed door. He had
seen too much of men to allow any instinctive aversion
to influence him, in the absence of logical evidence.
And this man's words sounded fair; his frank admission of occasional insanity accounted for many anomalies. Nevertheless, and apart from  any question of
personal danger, Balder felt ill at ease, like animals
before a thunder-storm.  As he sat down beside his
companion on the steps of the black altar, and glanced
up at the yellow visage that presided over it, he tried
to quiet his mind in vain; even the thought of Gnulemah yielded a vague anxiety!




XXVIII.
BETROTHAL.
T HE ring, which Balder had taken off with the
intention of returning it to its owner, still remained between his thumb and finger; and as he sat
under the gloom of the altar, its excellent brilliancy
caught his eye. He had never examined it minutely.
It was pure as virtue, and possessed similar power to
charm the dusky air into seven-hued beauty.  A fountain of lustre continually welled up from its interior,
like an exhaustless spring of wisdom.  From  amidst
the strife of the little serpents it shone serenely forth,
with divine assurance of good, -  eternal before the
battle began, and immortal after it should cease.  The
light refreshed the somewhat jaded Helwyse, and during the ensuing interview he ever and anon renewed
the draught.
But the Egyptian seemed to address a silent invocation to the mummy.  The anti-spiritual kind of
immortality belonging to mummies may have been
congenial to Manetho's soul. Awful is that loneliness
which even the prospect of death has deserted, and




300                  IDOLATRY.
which must prolong itself throughout a lifeless and
hopeless Forever!  If Manetho could imagine any
bond of relationship between this perennial death's-head
and himself, no marvel that he cherished it jealously.
"You shall hear first about myself," said the priest;
"yet, truly, I know not how to begin! No mind can
know another, nor even its own essential secrets.  My
time has been full of visions and unrealities. I am
the victim of a thing which, for lack of a better name,
I call myself! "
" Not a rare sickness," remarked Balder.
"A ghost no spell can lay! It grasps the rudder,
and steers towards gulfs the will abhors. A crew of
unholy, mutinous impulses fling abroad words and
thoughts unrecognizable.  Not Manetho talked in the
blackness of that night; but a devil, to whom  I listened shuddering, unable to control him'!"
"The Reverend Manetho Glyphic, my cousin by
adoption, - and sometimes a devil!" muttered Balder,
musingly.  "I had forgotten him."
People are more prone to err in fancying themselves
righteous, than the reverse; nevertheless, the course
and limits of self-deception are indefinite.  It is within
possibility for a man to believe himself wicked, while
his actual conduct is ridiculously blameless, even
praiseworthy! Although intending to mislead Balder,
Manetho's utterances were true to a degree unsuspected




BETROTHAL.                 301
by himself. He was more true than had he tried to
be so, because truth lay too profound for his recognition!
"A  shallower man," he resumed, "would bear a
grudge against the hand that clutched his throat; but
I own no relationship to the madman you chastised.
And there are deep reasons why I must set your
father's son above all other men in my regard."
" My father seldom spoke of you, and never as of an
especial friend," interposed the ingenuous Balder.
"He knew not my feeling towards him, nor would
he have comprehended it. It is a thing I myself can
scarce understand. To the outward eye there is juster
cause for hatred than for love.
"I will speak openly to you what has hitherto lain
between my heart and God.  Before Thor saw your
mother, I had loved her. My life's hope was to marry
her.  Thor came, — and my hope lingered and died.
For it, was no resurrection."  Here Manetho broke all
at once into sobs, covering his face with his hands;
and when he continued, his voice was softened with
tears.
"Thor called her to him, and she gladly went. He
stormed and carried with ease the fortress which, at
best, I could hope only slowly to undermine.  She
loved him as women love a conqueror; she might have
yielded me, at most, the grace of a condescending




302                  IDOLATRY.
queen. I kept silence: to whom could I speak? I
had felt great ambitions,- to become honored and
famous, - to preach the gospel as it had not yet been
preached,  all ambitions that a lover may feel. But
the tree died for lack of nourishment.  See what is
left!"
He opened out his arms with a gesture wanting
neither in pathos nor dignity. Balder could not but
sympathize with what he felt to be a genuine emotion.
"Amidst the ruins of my Memphis, I kept silence.
I hated —myself! for my powerlessness to keep her.
In my hours of madness I hated her too, and him; but
that was madness indeed! Deeper down was a sanity
that loved him. Since he had made my love his, I
must love him. So only might I still love her. The
only beauty left my ruins was that!
" She died; and with her would have died all sanity,
- all love, but that her children kept me back -from
worse ruin than was mine already. They were a link
to bind me to the good. Now Thor is dead, but still
his son- her son - survives.  Hence is it that you
are more to me than other men."
"Did Doctor Glyphic know nothing of this?"
"I never told him of either my hope or my despair.
My beloved master! he lived and died without suspicion that I had striven to be a brother as well as son
to him."




BETROTHAL.                  303
"When did he die?"
"Eighteen years ago," said Manetho, solemnly. "You
are the first to whom  his death has been revealed.
Beloved master! have I not obeyed thy will?"  And
he looked up to his master's parchment visage.
"I discovered his death for myself, you know," observed Helwyse.  "But it could not have been more
than eighteen years since my father, then on the point
of departure for Europe, saw Hiero Glyphic alive!"
"Yes, yes! Did he ever tell you what passed in
that interview?" demanded Manetho, eagerly.
"Little more than a farewell, I think. There was
some talk about the estate. At my uncle's death, the
house was to come to you, the property to my father or
his heirs. But neither expected at that time that it
was to be their last meeting."
"Was no one mentioned beside Thor's children and
myself?" asked the priest, looking askant at Balder as
he spoke.
"No; my uncle neither had nor expected children,
as far as I know!"
"Thor did not see her, - Gnulemah?"
"Gnulemah? - how should he have seen her? " exclaimed Balder, in surprise.
"Then her mystery remains!" said Manetho, looking up.
He had perhaps doubted whether any suspicion of




304                  IDOLATRY.
who Gnulemah really was had found its way to the
young  man's mind.  The latter's reception of his
question reassured him.  There could be no risk in
catering to his aroused curiosity.  The account Manetho now gave was true, though falsehood lurked in
the pauses.
"That day Thor came, I left the house early in the
morning.  It was night when I returned; and Thor
was gone.  The house was dark, and at first there
was no sound.  But presently I heard the voice of a
child, murmuring and babbling baby words. I passed
through  the outer hall and the conservatory, and
came to where we now are. The lamp was burning,
as it has burned ever since.
"I saw him lying on the altar steps,-lying so!"
Marrying act to word, the Egyptian slid down and
lay prostrate at the altar's foot.  "He was dead and
cold!" he added; and gave way to a shuddering outburst of grief.
Balder's nerves were a little staggered at this tale,
with its heightening of dramatic action and morbid
circumstance; and he was silent until the actor (if
such he were) was in some degree repossessed of
himself.  Then he asked," What of the child?"
"I have named her Gnulemah. She played about
the dead body, bright and careless as the flame of




BETROTHAL.                 305
the lamp. Whence she came she could not tell, nor
had I seen her before that day.  It seemed that, at
the moment my master's life burned out, hers flamed
up; and since that day it has lighted and warmed
my solitude."
" And Doctor Glyphic -"
"I embalmed him!" cried Manetho, clasping his
hands in grotesque enthusiasm.  "It was my privilege and my consolation to render his body immortal.
In my grief I rejoiced at the opportunity of manifesting my devotion. Not the proudest of the Pharaohs was more sumptuously preserved than he! In
that labor of love there was no cunning secret of
the art that I did not employ.  Night and day I
worked alone; and while he lay in the long nitre
bath, I watched or slept beside him. Then I enwound him thousand-fold in finest linen smeared with
fragrant gum, and hid his beloved form in the coffin
he had chosen long before."
"Did my uncle choose this form of burial?"
"He lived in hopes of it! It was his wish that
his body might be disposed as became his name, and
the passion that had ruled his life. Me only did he
deem worthy of the task, and equal to it. Had I
died before him, his fairest hope would have been
blighted, his life a failure!"
"A dead failure, truly!" muttered Balder, impelled
T




306                  IDOLATRY.
by the very grewsomeness of the subject to jest
about it.  "Was his loftiest aspiration to mummy
and be mummied? -  But yours was a dangerous
office to fulfil, Cousin Manetho. Had the death got
abroad, you might have been suspected of foul play!"
"The cause was worth the risk," replied the other,
sententiously.
Helwyse shot a keen look at his companion, but
could discern in him none of the common symptoms
of guilt. The priest, however, was a mine of sunless
riddles, one lode connecting with another; it was idle
attempting to explore them all at once. So the young
man recurred to that vein which was of most immediate interest to himself.
"Have you no knowledge concerning Gnulemah's
origin?" he inquired.
Manetho laid his long brown hand on Balder's arm.
"If she be not Gnulemah, daughter of fire, it must
rest with you to give her another name," said he.
"I care not who was her father or her mother,"
rejoined the lover, after a short silence; "Gnulemah
is herself!"
The lithe fingers on his arm  clutched it hard for
a monent, and Manetho averted his face. When he
turned again, his features seemed to express exultation, mingled with a sinister flavor of some darker
emotion.




BETROTHAL.                  307
"Son of Thor, you have your father's frankness.
Do you love her?"
"You saw that I loved her," returned Balder, his
black eyes kindling somewhat intolerantly.
"If I can hasten by one hour the consummation
of that love, my life will have been worth the living I"
"That's kindly spoken! " exclaimed Helwyse, heartily; and, opening his strong white hand, he took the
narrow brown one into its grasp.  He had not been
prepared for so friendly a profession.
" When I have seen your soul tied to hers in a
knot that even death may not loosen, -and if it be
permitted me to tie the knot, I shall have drained the
cup of earthly happiness!" He spoke with a deliberate intensity not altogether pleasant to the ear. He
would not relinquish Balder's hand, as he continued
in his high-strung vein,
"I know at last for whom my flower has bloomed.
Through the world, across seas, by strange accidents
has Providence brought you safe to this spot; and has
made you what you are, and her incomparable among
women. - You love- her with heart and soul, Balder
Helwyse?"
"So that the world seems frail, and I -except for
my love - insignificant  "
In the sudden emphasis of his question, Manetho




308                  IDOLATRY.
had risen to his feet; and Balder likewise had started
up, before giving his reply. As he spoke the words
strongly forth, his swarthy companion seemed to catch
them  in the air, and breathe them  in. Slowly an
expression of joy, that could hardly be called a smile,
welled forth from his long eyes, and forced its way,
with dark persistency of glee, through all his face.
" By you only in the world would I have her loved!"
he said; and repeated it more than once.
He remained a full minute leaning with one arm on
the altar, his eyes abstracted. Then he said abruptly, 
"Why not be married soon? "
The lover looked up questioningly, a deep throb in
his heart.
"Soon — soon!" reiterated Manetho. "Love is a
thing of moments more than of years. I know it!
Do you stand idle while Gnulemah awaits you? We
may die to-morrow! "
"I have no right to hurry her," said Helwyse in
a low voice. "She knows nothing of the world. I
would marry her to-morrow-"
"To-morrow! why not to-day? Why wait? that
she may learn the falsehoods of society, - to flirt, dress,
gossip, crave flattery? Why do you hesitate? Speak
out, son of Thor!"
"I have spoken. Do you doubt me? Were it possible, she should be my wife this hour! "




BETROTHAL.                  309
"Oh!" murmured Manetho, the incisiveness of his
manner melting away as suddenly as it came; "now
have you proved your love. You shall be made one,
-  one! -  to-day.  Four-and-twenty years ago this
day, I married your parents on this very spot. The
anniversary shall become a double one!
The black eye-sockets of the mummy stared Balder
in the face. But at a touch from Manetho, he turned,
and saw Gnulemah, bright with beautiful enchantment,
in the doorway.
"Yes, to-day!" he said impetuously.
"You shall wed her with that ring!" whispered the
victorious tempter in his ear.  "Go to her; tell her
what marriage is! I will call you soon."
The lover went, and the woman, coming forward,
sweetly met him half-way.  But glancing back again
before passing out, Balder saw that the priest had
vanished; and the lamp, flickering above the mummy's
dry features, wrought them into a shadowy semblance
of emotion.




XXIX.
A CHAMBER OF THE HEART.
- ~/ANETHO  neither sank  through the granite
floor, nor ascended in the smoke of the lamp.
He unlocked a door (to the panels of which the clock
was affixed, and which it concealed) and let himself
into his private study, a room scarce seven feet wide,
though corresponding in length and height with the
dimensions of the outer temple. Books and papers
were kept here, and such other things of a private or
valuable nature as Manetho wished should be inaccessible to outsiders. Against the wall opposite the
door stood a heavy mahogany table; beside it, a deepbottomed chair, in which the priest now sat down.
The room  was destitute of windows, properly so
called. The walls were full twenty feet high; and
at a distance of some sixteen feet from the floor, a
series of low horizontal apertures pierced the masonry,
allowing the light of heaven to penetrate in an embarrassed manner, and hesitatingly to reveal the interior. Viewed from without, these narrow slits would
be mistaken for mere architectural indentations. To




A CHAMBER OF THE HEART.            311
the inhabitant they were of more importance, contracted though they were; and albeit one could not
look out of them, they served as ventilators, and to
distinguish between fine and cloudy weather.
In his earlier and more active days, Manetho had
lived and worked throughout the whole extent of this
study, and it had been kept clean and orderly to its
remotest corner. But as years passed, and the range
of his sympathies and activities narrowed, the ends
of the room had gradually fallen into dusty neglect,
till at length only the small space about the chair and
table was left clear and available. The rest was impeded by books, instruments of science, and endless
chaotic rubbish; while spiders had handed down their
ever-broadening estates from father to child, through
innumerable Araneidaan generations.  A  gray uniformity had thus come to overspread everything; and
with the exceptions of a cracked celestial globe, and
the end of a worm-eaten old ladder, there was nothing
to catch the attention.
Here might the Egyptian indulge himself in whatever extravagances of word or act he chose, secure
from sight or hearing; and here had he spent many an
hour in such solitary exercises as no sane mind can
conceive. To him the room was thick with associations. Iere had he pursued his studies, or helped the
Doctor in his erratic experiments and research; here,




312                 IDOLATRY.
with Helen in his thoughts, he had shaped out a career,
-not all of Christian humility and charity, perhaps,
but at least unstained by positive sin, and not unmindful of domestic happiness. Here, again, had Salome
visited him, bringing discord and delight in equal
parts; for at times, with the strong heat of youth, he
had vowed to love only her and to forsake ambition;
and anon the bloodless counsels of worldly power and
welfare banished her with a curse for having crossed
his path.  Head and heart were always at war in
Manetho. The talismanic diamond flashed or waned,
and fiercely wriggled the little fighting serpents.
At length Thor Helwyse's gauntlet was thrown into
the ring; and peace -if still present to outward seeming- abode not in the feverish soul of the Egyptian.
But it was his nature to dissemble. In this room he
had often outwatched the night, chewing the cud of his
wrongs, invoking vengeance upon the thwarter of his
hopes, and swearing through his teeth to even the
balance between them.  The black serpent held the
golden one helpless in his coils. The obtuse Doctor,
blundering in at morning, would find his adopted son
with pallid cheeks and glittering eyes, but ever ready
with a smile and pleasant greeting, obedience and help.
Hiero Glyphic, however wayward and cross-grained,
never had cause to censure this creature of his, -to remind him that he might have been food for crocodiles.




A CHAMBER OF THE HEART.            313
Manetho's dissimulation was almost without flaw.
Even Helen, whose fancy had played with him at first,
but who in time had indolently yielded to the fascination exerted over her, and even gone so far as to permit
his adulation, and accept in the ring the mystic pledge
thereof (during all the countless ages of its experience
it had never touched woman's hand before), - even
she, when her lazy heart and overbearing spirit were at
length aroused and quelled by the voice rather of a
master than suitor, was deceived by forsaken Manetho's
unruffled face, gentle voice, and downcast eyes.  She
told herself that his love had never dared be warmer
than a kind of worship, like that of a pagan for his
idol, apart from  human passion; such, at all events,
had been her understanding of his attentions. As to
the ring, it had been tendered as an offering at the
shrine of abstract womanhood; to return it too soon
would imply a supposition of more personal sentiment.
Neither must Thor see it, however; his rough sense
would fail to appreciate her fine-drawn distinction. So
she concealed it in her bosom, and Manetho's serpents
were ever between Thor and his wife's heart.  She
was false both to husband and lover.
Great Thor, meanwhile, pitied the slender Egyptian,
and in a kindly way despised him, with his supple
manners, quiet words, and religious studies.  To the
young priest's timid yet earnest request for permission
14




314                   IDOLATRY.
to pronounce the marriage-service of him and his bride,
Thor assented with gruff heartiness.
"Marry us?  Of course! marry us as fast as you
can, if it gives you any pleasure, my friend of the crocodile. A good beginning for your ministerial career,marrying a couple who love each other as much as Nell
and I do. Eh, Nellie?"
The ceremony over, Manetho had retired to his
study, and there passed the night,-their marriagenight! What words and tones, what twistings of face
and body, did those passionless walls see and hear?
How the smooth, studious, submissive priest yearned
for power to work his will for one day! And as the
cool, still morning sheared the lustre from his lampflame, how desolate he felt, with his hatred and despair
and blaspheming rage!  Evil passions are but poor
company, in the early morning.
But was not Salome left him? The only sincerely
tender words he had ever spoken to woman had been
said to her: his humblest and happiest thoughts had
been born of their early acquaintance, - before he had
raised his eyes to the proud and languid mistress.  Yet
on her only did the evil passions of Manetho wreak
themselves in harm  and wrong; her only, on a later
day, did he dastardly strike down.  Poor Salome had
given him  her heart.  These walls had seen their
meetings.




A CHAMBER OF THE HEART.           315
Years afterwards, Manetho had here embalmed his
foster-father: through long hours had he labored at
his hateful task, with curious zest and conscientiousness. As regarded the strange place of sepulture, the
Egyptian had perhaps imagined a symbolic fitness in
enclosing his human immortal in the empty shell of
time.  Over this matter of Hiero Glyphic's death and
burial, however, must ever brood a cloud of mystery.
Undoubtedly Manetho loved the man, - but death was
not always the worst of ills in Manetho's philosophy.
The clock had been affixed to the study door both as
an additional concealment, and possibly as a congenial
sentry over the interior associations.  Since then the
place had become the clergyman's almost daily resort.
Pacing the contracted floor, sitting moodily in the
chair, -many a brooding hour had gone over his barrenly busy head, and written its darkening record in
his book of life. Here had been schemed that plan of
revenge, whose insanity the insane schemer could not
perceive. Nor could he understand that mightier powers than he could master worked against him, and even
used his efforts to bring forth contrary results.
But not all hours had passed so. Spaces there had
been wherein evil counsels had retired to a cloudy
background, athwart which had brightened a rainbow,
intangible, whose source was hidden, but whose colors
were true before his eyes. The grace and aerial beauty




316                   IDOLATRY.
of sunshine lightened through the rain, - the pleasing
loveliness of essential life was projected on the gloom
of evil imaginations.  For Manetho's actual deeds were
apt to be prompted by far gentler influences than governed his theories. The man was better than his mind:
and goodness, perhaps, bears an absolute blessing; insomuch that the sinner, doing ignorant good, yet feels
the benefit thereof; just as-the rain, however dismal,
cannot prevent the sun from  making rainbows out
of it.
On this particular morning Manetho sank into his
deep-seated chair, and was quite still. A great part of
what had hitherto made his daily life ended here. The
activity of existence was over for him. Thought, feeling, hope, could live hereafter only as phantoms of
memory.  But to look back on evil done is not so
pleasant as to plan it; the dead body of a foe moves us
in another way than his living hostile person.
When, therefore, Manetho should have hurled to its
mark the long-poised spear, he would have little to
look forward to.  That one moment of triumph must
repay, both for what had been and was to come.  Today of all his days, then, must each sense and faculty
be in exquisite condition. Unseasonably enough, however, he found himself in a perversely dull and callous
state.  Could Providence so cajole him  as to mar the
only joyful hour of his life! Then better off than he




A CHAMBER OF THE HEART.             317
were savages, who could destroy their recusant idols.
But nothing short of spiritual suicide would have destroyed the idol of Manetho!
He was wearing to-day the same priestly robe which
he had put on when, for the first and last time, he performed a ministerial duty. In this robe had he married
Helen to Thor.  Itself a precious relic of antiquity, it
had once dignified the shoulders of a contemporary of
Manetho's remotest ancestors.  Old Hiero Glyphic had
counted it amongst his chiefest treasures; and on his
sister's wedding-day had produced it from its repository, insisting that the minister should wear it instead
of the orthodox sacerdotal costume.  Since then it had
lain untouched till to-day.
Manetho brooded over the dim magnifi'cence of its
folds, sitting amidst the cobwebbed rubbish, a narrow
glint of sunshine creeping slope-downwards from the
crevice above his head.  He smoothed the fabric abstractedly with his hand, recalling the thoughts and
scenes of four-and-twenty years ago.
"I joined them  in the holy bonds of matrimony,
read over them that service, those sacred words heavy
with solemn benediction.  Rich, smooth, softly modulated was my voice, missing not one just emphasis or
melodious intonation.  Ah! had they seen my soul.
But my eyes were half closed like the crocodile's, yet
never losing sight of the two I was uniting in sight of




318                  IDOLATRY.
God and man. The Devil too was there. He turned
the blessings my lips uttered into blighting curses, that
fell on the happy couple like pestilential rain!
" Laughable! Covered head to foot with curses, and
felt them  not!  All was smiles, blushes, happiness,
forward-looking to a long, joyful future. They knelt
before me; I uplifted my hands and invoked the last
blessing,- the final curse! My heart burned, and
the smoke of its fire enveloped bride and groom, fouling his yellow beard, and smirching her silvery veil;
shutting out heaven from their prayers, and blackening
their path before them. They neither felt nor knew.
They kissed, - I saw their lips meet, - as Balder and
Gnulemah to-day. Then I covered my face and seemed
to be in prayer!
" Gnulemah, - I hate her!  yes, but hatred sometimes touches the heart like love. I love her! -to
marry her? Woe to him who becomes her husband!
As a daughter?- no daughter is she of mine! —  I
hate her, then.
"Why am I childless? -how would I have loved a
child! I would have left all else to love my child! I
would have been the one father in the world! My life
should have been full of love as it has been of hate.
Why did not God send me a wife and a daughter? "
Men's ears have grown deaf to any save the most
commonplace oracles.  But there is ever a warning




A CHAMBER OF THE HEART.            319
voice for who will listen.  One may object that its
language is unknown, or its whisper inaudible; but to
the question, "Whence your ignorance and deafness?"
what shall be the answer?
In Manetho's case it appears to have been the venerable robe that took on itself the task of remonstrance.
"You are unreasonable, friend," it interposed with
a gentle rustle.  "Gnulemah, if not your daughter,
might, however, have stood you in place of one; and
she would have done you just as much good, in the
way of softening and elevating your nature, as though
she had been the issue of your own loins. You have
turned the milk and honey of your life into gall and
wormwood; and I wish I could feel sure that only you
would get the benefit of it!"
The reproof had as well been spared; it is doubtful
whether the culprit heard so much as a word of it.
His reverie rambled on.
"Keen, — that Balder! he half suspects me. Had
I not so hurried him to a conclusion, he would have
questioned me too closely. He shall know all presently, even as I promised him  - shall hear a sounder
guess at Gnulemah's genealogy than was made to-day.
"Do I love her? - only as the means to my end I
The end once gained, I shall hate her as I do him.
But not yet,- and therefore must I love him as well
as her. They shall be, to-day, my beloved children I




320                  IDOLATRY.
To- morrow, - how shall I endure till to-morrow,all the night through? O Gnulemah!"They love each other well, - seem made to make
each other happy; yet have they come together from
the ends of the earth to be each other's curse! Only
if I keep silence might.it be otherwise, for love might
tame the devil that I have bred in Gnulemah. Even
now she seems more angel than devil! - Am I mad?"
He straightened himself in his chair, and glanced
up towards the crevice whence slanted the dusty sunshine.  The old robe took the opportunity to deliver
its final warning.
"Not yet mad beyond remedy, Manetho; but you
look up too seldom  at the sunshine, and brood too
often over your own dusty depths.  You have had
no consciously unselfish thought during the last quarter
of a century. You eat, drink, and breathe only Manetho! This room is yours, because it is fullest of rubbish, and least looks out upon the glorious universe.
Break down your walls! take broom in hand without
delay!  Proclaim  at once the crime you meditate.
Go I there is still sunshine in this dust-hole of yours,
and more of heaven in every man than he himself
dreams of. The sun is passing to the other side. Go
while it shines!"
But Manetho's dull ears heard not; and the aged
garment of truth spoke no more.




XXX.
DANDELIONS.
IT seems a pity that, with all imagination at our
service, we should have to confine our excursions within so narrow a domain as this of Hiero
Glyphic's.  One tires of the best society, uncondimented with an occasional foreign relish, even of
doubtful digestibility.  Barring this, it only remains
to relieve somewhat the monotony of our food, by
variety in the modes of dishing it up.
Balder had been no whit disconcerted at the priest's
abrupt evanishment.  The divine sphere of Gnulemah had touched him with its sweet magnetism, and
he was sensible of little beyond it.  Their hands
greeted like life-long friends.  Drawing hers within
his arm, he still kept hold of it, and her rounded
shoulder softly pressed his, as they loitered out between the impenetrable sphinxes.  The conservatory,
however beautiful in itself and by association, was
too small to hold their hearts at this moment. They.
passed on, and through the columns of the Moorish
portico, into the fervent noon sunshine.
14*                         u




322                 IDOLATRY.
Grasshoppers chirped; fine buzzing flies darted in
swift circles and lit again; birds giggled and gossiped, bobbing and swinging among swaying boughs.
Battalions of vast green trees stood grand in shadowlakes of cooler green, their myriad leaves twinkling
light and dark. Tender gleams of river topped the
enamelled bank,-the further shore a slumbering El
Dorado. The trees in the distant orchard wore bridal
veils, and even Gnulemah's breath was not much
sweeter than theirs!
Emerging arm in arm on the enchanted lawn, the
lovers turned southwards up the winding avenue.
The fragrance, the light and warmth, the bird and
insect voices, imperfectly expressed their own hearthappiness.  The living turf softly pressed up their
feet. This was the fortunate hour that comes not
twice.  Happy those to whom it comes at all!  To
live was such full bliss, every new movement overflowed the cup.  Joy was it to look on earth and
sky; but to behold each other was heaven! More
life in a moment such as this, than in twenty years
of scheming more successful than Manetho's.
They followed the same path Helen had walked
the eve of her death; and presently arrived at the
old bench. Shadow and sunshine wrestled playfully
over it, while the green blood of the leaves overhead
glowed vividly against the blue. Around the bench




DANDELIONS.                 323
the grass grew  taller, as on a grave; and crisp lichens, gray and brown, overspread its surface.  Man
had neglected it so long that Nature, overcoming her
diffidence towards his handiwork, had  at length
claimed it for her own.
The glade was full of great golden  dandelions,
whose soft yellow crowns were almost too heavy for
the slender necks.  The prince and princess of the
fairy-tale paused here, recognizing the spot as the
most beautiful on earth,- albeit only since their
love's arrival.  They seated themselves not on the
bench, but on the yet more primitive grass beside
it. They had not spoken as yet.  Balder plucked
some dandelions, and proceeded to twist them  into
a chain; and Gnulemah, after watching him  for a
while, followed his example.
"You and I have sat on the grass and woven
such chains before," asserted she at length. "When
was it?"
"I haven't done such a thing since I was a child
not much taller than a dandelion," returned Balder.
He was not ethereal enough to follow Gnulemah in
her apparently fanciful flight, else might he have
lighted on a discovery to which all the good sense
and logic in the world would not have brought him.
"Yes; we have made these chains before!" reiterated Gnulemah, looking at her companion  in  a




324                  IDOLATRY.
preoccupied manner.  "They were to have chained
us together forever."
"We should  have made them  of stronger stuff,
then.  But which of us broke the chain?"
"They took us away from each other, and it was
never finished. Do you remember nothing? "
"The present is enough for me," said her lover;
and he finished his necklace with a handsome clasp
of blossoms, and threw it over her neck.  She gave
a low sigh of satisfaction.
"I have been waiting for it ever since that old
time! And here is mine for you."
Thus adorned by each other's hands, their love
seemed greater than before, and they laughed from
pure  delight.  Their bonds looked fragile; yet it
would need a stronger wrench to part them  than
had they been cables of iron or gold, unsustained by
the subtile might of love.
"Let us link  them  together," proposed Balder;
and, loosening a link  of his chain, he reunited it
inside Gnulemah's.  "We must keep together," he
continued with a smile, "or the marriage-bonds will
break."
"Is this marriage, Balder? to be tied together with
flowers?"
"One part of marriage.  It shows the world that
we belong only to each other."




DANDELIONS.                325
"How could they help knowing that,- for to whom
else could we belong? besides, why should  they
know?"
Because," answered Balder after some consideration,
"the world is made in such a way, that unless we
record all we do by some visible symbol, everything
would get into confusion."
"No, no," protested Gnulemah, earnestly.  "Only
God should know how we love. Must the world know
our words and thoughts, and lhow we have sat beneath
these trees? -Then let us not be married "
They were leaning side to side against the bench,
along whose edge Balder had stretched an arm to
cushion Gnulemah's head. As he turned to look at
her, a dash of sunlight was quivering on her clear
smooth cheek, and another ventured to nestle warmly
below the head of the guardian serpent on her bosom,
for Gnulemah and the sun had been lovers long before
Balder's appearance.  Where breathed such another
woman? From the low turban that pressed her hair
to the bright sandals on her fine bronze feet, there was
no fault, save her very uniqueness.  She belonged not
to this era, but to the Golden Age, past or to come.
Could she ever be conformed to the world of to-day?
Dared her lover assume the responsibility of revealing
to this noble soul all the meanness, sophistries, little
pleasures, and low aims of this imperfect age? Could




326                 IDOLATRY.
he change the world to suit her needs? or endure
to see her change to suit the world?  Moreover,
changing so much, might she not change towards him?
The Balder she loved was a grander man than any Balder knew. Might she not learn to abhor the hand
which should unveil to her the Gorgon features of
fallen humanity? —Much  has man  lost in losing
Paradise!
Contemplating Gnulenmah's entrance into the outer
world, Manetho had anticipated her ruin from  the
flowering of the evil seed which he believed himself
to have planted in her. Might not the same result
issue from a precisely opposite cause? The Arcadian
fashion in which the lovers' passion had ripened must
soon change forever. It was perilous to advance, but
to retreat was impossible. Balder was at bay; had he
loved Gnulemah less, he would have regretted Charon's
ferry-boat. But his love was greater for the danger and
difficulty wherewith it was fraught. He could not summon the millennium; well, he might improve himself.
"If I could but shut her glorious eyes to all the
shabby littleness they will have to see, we might
hazard the rest," he sighed to himself. " If the pure
visions of her maiden years might veil from her those
gross realities of every-day life!  With what face
shall I meet her glance after it has suffered the first
shock? "




DANDELIONS.                 327
Meanwhile her last objection remained unanswered,
and Balder, distrustful of his capacity, was inspired
to seek inspiration from her he would instruct.
"Tell me how you love me, Gnulemah," said he.
She roused herself, and bending her face to his,
breathlessly kissed his lips.  Then she drooped her
warm cheek on his shoulder, and whispered the rest:" My love is to be near you, and to breathe when
you breathe; it is love to become you, as water becomes
wave. And love would make me sweet to you, as
honey and music and flowers. I love to be needed
by you, as you need food and drink and sleep; and my
love will be loved, as God loves the world."
To the lover these sentences were tender and sublime
poetry.  The tears came to his eyes, hearing her speak
out her loving soul so simply.  He had travelled
through the world, while she had lived her life between a wall and a precipice.  But not the noisy,
gaudy, gloomy crust which is fresh to-day, and tomorrow hardens, and the next day crumbles, is the
world; but the fire-globe within: and Gnulemah was
nearer that fire than Balder. There was puissance in
her simplicity, - in her ignorance of that crust which
he had so widely studied.  Her knowledge was more
profound than his, for she had never learned to stultify it with reasons.
"It is true,- God only can know  our love," said




328                  IDOLATRY.
Balder, and, having said it, he felt his mind clear and
strengthen.  For it is the acknowledgment of God
that lends the deepest seeing to the eye, and tunes the
universe to man; and Balder, at this moment of mingled love, humility, and fear, made and confessed that
supreme discovery. -" Only He knows what our love
is, but the marriage-rite informs the world that He
knows it."
"But why must the world know?" persisted Gnulemah, still seeming to shrink at the idea.
"Because it is wholesome for all men to know that
we have made God party to our union. That our love
may be pure and immortal, we must look through each
other to Him; the acknowledgment will keep-others as
well as ourselves from misusing love's happiness."
" Then, after we have knelt together before Him, we
shall be no longer two, but one!"  Gnulemah spoke,
after some pause, in a full tone of joy; yet her voice
shrank at the last, from the feeling that she had penetrated all at once to a holy place. A delicious fear
seized her, and she clung to her lover so that he could
perceive the tremor that agitated her.
No more was said.  Their confidence was in each
other; with Balder at her side, Gnulemah was fearful
of the world no longer.  But her visions were all
spiritual; even the kisses on her lips were to her a
sacred miracle!  Love makes children of men and




DANDELIONS.                329
women, - shows them the wisdom of unreason and the
value of soap-bubbles.  These lovers must meet the
world, but the light and freshness of the Golden Age
should accompany them. The man held the maiden's
hand, and so faced the future with a smile.
Few as were the hours since they first had seen each
other, it seemed as though they could hardly know
each other better; then why put off the consummation
a single hour?  Manetho had been right, and Balder
marvelled at having required the spur. He knew of
no material hindrances; unlimited resources would be
his, and these would render easier Gnulemah's introduction to society.  Perhaps (for doubtless Manetho
would desire it) they might begin housekeeping in this
very house, and thus, by gradual approaches, make
their way to life's realities, - vulgarly so called 
At this moment, Balder's respect for wealth was
many fold greater than ever it had been before. It
should be the sword and shield wherewith he would
protect the woman of his heart.  Gnulemah was not
of the kind who. need the discipline of poverty; her
beauty and goodness would be best nurtured beneath
an affluent sun.  Wants and inconveniences would
rather pain and mystify than educate her. How good
was that God who had vouchsafed not only the blessing, but the means of enjoying it!
God gave Balder Helwyse opportunity to prove the




330                  IDOLATRY.
soundness of his faith.  Labor and poverty awaited
him; what else and worse let time show. In anguish,
fear, and humiliation had his love been born, but the
birth-pangs had been as brief as they were intense. A
brave soul's metal is more severely tried by crawling
years of monotonous effort, discord of must with wish,
and secret self-suppression and misgiving.  Happily
life is so ordered that no blow can crush unless dealt
from within, nor is any sunshine worth having that
shines only from without.
Balder's eyes were softer than their wont, and there
was a tender and sweet expression about his mouth.
Never had life been so inestimable a blessing, - never
had nature looked so divinely alive. He could imagine
nothing gloomy or forbidding; in darkness's self he
would have found germs of light.  His love was a
panoply against ill of mind or body. He thought he
perceived, once for all, the insanity of selfishness and
sin.
Suddenly he was conscious through Gnulemah of the
same shiver that had visited her in the conservatory
that morning. Looking round, he was startled to see,
beyond the near benison of her sumptuous face, the
tall form of the Egyptian priest. He was not a dozen
yards away, advancing slowly towards them.  Balder
sprang up.
"Our chain, - you  have broken  it!" exclaimed




DANDELIONS.               331
Gnulemah. It was only a flower chain, but flowers are
the bloom and luxury of life.
Manetho came up with a smile.
" Come, my children!" said he. "This chain would
soon have faded and fallen apart of itself, but the chain
I will forge you is stronger than time and weightier
than dandelions. Come! "
Gnulemah picked up the broken links, and they followed him to the house.




XXXI.
MARRIED.
T HE significant part of most life histories is the
record of a few detached hours, the rest being
consequence and preparation. Helwyse had lived in
constant mental and physical activity from childhood
up; but though he had speculated much, and ever
sought to prove the truth by practice, yet he had failed
to create adequate emergencies, and was like an untried
sword, polished and keen, but lacking still the one
stern proof of use.
Thus, although a man of the world, in a deeper sense
he was untouched by it. He had been the sentimental
spectator of a drama wherein some shadow of himself
seemed to act.  The mimic scenes had sometimes
moved him to laughter or to tears, but he had never
quite lost the suspicion of an unreality under all.
The best end had been  in a large sense-beauty.
Beauty of love, of goodness, of strength, of wisdom, —
beauty of every kind and degree, but nothing better!
Beauty was the end rather than the trait of all desirable things. To have power was beautiful, and beau



MARRIED.                  333
tiful was the death that opened the way to freer and
wider power. Most beautiful was Almightiness; yet,
lapsing thence, it was beautiful to begin the round
again in fresh, new forms.
This kind of spider-webs cannot outlast the suns
and snows. Personal passion disgusts one with brainspun systems of the universe, and may even lead to a
mistrust of mathematics! One feels the overwhelming
power of other than intellectual interests; and discovers in himself a hitherto unsuspected universe,
profound as the mystery of God, where the cockleshell of mental attainments is lost like an asteroid
in the abyss of space.
What is the mind? — A  little window, through
which to gaze out upon the vast heart-world: a window whose crooked and clouded pane we may diligently clean and enlarge day by day; but, too often, the
deep view beyond is mistaken for a picture painted on
the glass and limited by its sash! Let the window by
all means expand till the darksome house be transformed to a crystal palace I but shall homage be paid
the crystal? Of what value were its transparency, had
God not built the heavens and the earth?Though Helwyse had failed to touch the core of
life, and to recognize the awful truth of its mysteries,
he had not been conscious of failure. On the contrary
he had become disposed to the belief that he was a




334                 IDOLATRY.
being apart from the mass of men and above them:
one who could see round and through human plans
and passions; could even be separate from himself, and
yield to folly with one hand, while the other jotted
down the moral of the spectacle.  He was calm in
the conviction that he could measure and calculate
the universe, and draw its plan in his commonplace
book. God was his elder brother, — himself in some
distant but attainable condition. He matched finity
against the Infinite, and thereby cast away man's dearest hope, - that of eternal progress towards the image
of Divine perfection.
Once, however, the bow  had smitten his heartstrings with a new result of sound, awakening fresh
ideas of harmony. When Thor was swept to death
by that Baltic wave, Balder leapt after him, hopeless
to save, but without demur! The sea hurled him back
alone. For many a month thereafter, strange lights
and shadows flashed or gloomed across his sky, and
sounds from unknown abysses disquieted him. But
all was not quite enough; perhaps he was hewn
from too stanch materials lightly to change. Yet the
sudden shock of his loss left its mark: the props of
self-confidence were a little unsettled; and the events
whose course we have traced were therefore able to
shake them down.
For Destiny rained her sharpest blows on Balder




MARRIED.                   335
Helwyse all at once, and the attack marks the turning-point of his life.  She chose her weapons wisely.
He was beaten by tactics which a coarser and shallower nature would have slighted.  He sustained the
onslaught for the most part with outward composure,
-but bleeding inwardly.
His had been a vast egoism, rooted in his nature and
trained by his philosophy.  It must die, if at all,
violently, painfully, and-in silence.  The truer and
more constant the soul, the more complete the destruction of its idol. Character is not always the slow
growth of years: often do the elements mingle long
in formless solution; some sudden jar causes them to
spring at once to the definite crystal.  There had,
hitherto, been a kind of impersonality about Balder,
having its ultimate ground in his blindness to the
immutable unity of God.  But so soon as his eye
became single, he stood pronounced in his individuality, less broadly indifferent than of yore, but organized and firm.
In this inert world the body pursues but imperfectly
the processes of the soul. These three days had made
small change in Helwyse's face.  His expression was
less serene than of yore, but pithier as well as more
joyful.  The humorous indifference had given place
to a kindlier humanity.  Gone was the glance half
satiric, half sympathetic; but in its stead was some



336                 IDOLATRY.
thing warmer and more earnest. For the charity of
scepticism was substituted a sentiment less broad, but
deeper and truer. It would need an insight supernaturally keen to detect thus early these alterations
in the page of Balder's countenance; but their germs
are there, to develop afterwards.
During this pause in our narrative, Helwyse was
sitting at his chamber window, awaiting the summons
to the ceremony. The afternoon was far advanced,
and the landscape lay breathless beneath the golden
burden of the lavish sun. The bridegroom  rose to
his feet; surely the bride must be ready! Was that
strange old Nurse delaying her?  Did she herself
procrastinate? Balder was waxing impatient!
The clear outcry of the hoopoe startled the calm
air, and that good little messenger came fluttering in
haste to the window. Round its neck was twined a
golden dandelion,- Gnulemah's love-token!  With a
knowing upturn of its bright little eye, the bird submitted to being robbed of its decoration; then warbled
a keen good-by, and flew away.
The lover behaved as foolishly towards the dandelion
as a lover should.  At last he drew the stem through
the button-hole of his velveteen jacket, and was ready
to answer in person the shy invitation it conveyed.
The bride waited!
His hand was on the latch, when sone one knocked.




MARRIED.                  337
He threw  open the door, — and had to look twice
before  recognizing  Nurse.  Her dingy  anomalous
drapery had been exchanged for another sort of costunme. Her scars strove to be hidden beneath the
yellow  lace and crumpled feathers of an antique
head-dress.  She wore a satin gown of an old fashion,
whose pristine  whiteness was much  impaired  by
time. An aged fan, ragged, but of tasteful pattern,
dangled at her wrist. She resembled some forgotten
Ginevra, reappearing after an age's seclusion in the
oaken chest. Her aspect was painfully repellent, the
more for this pathetic attempt at good looks. The
former unlovely garb had a sort of fitness to the
blasted features; but so soon as she forsook that
uncanny harmony and tried to be like other women,
she became undesirably conspicuous.
"The bridesmaid!" came to Balder's lips,- but did
not pass them. He would not hurt the poor creature's
feelings by the betrayal of surprise or amusement.
She was a woman,- and Gnulemah was no more.
According to his love for his wife, must he be tender
and gentle towards her sex.
When, therefore, Nurse gave him  to understand
that she was to marshal him to the altar, Balder, never
more heroic than at that moment, offered her his arm,
which she accepted with an air of scarecrow gentility.
Either the change of costume had struck in, or it was
15                        v




338                  IDOLATRY.
the symbol of inward change.  She seemed struggling
against her torpor, her dimness and deadness.  She
tried, perhaps, to recall the day when that dress was
first put on, —the day of Helen's marriage, when
Salome had attended her mistress to the altar, - when
she hoped before many weeks to stand at an altar on
her own account. - Not yet, Salome, nor in this world.
Perchance not in another; for they who maim  their
earthly lives may not enjoy in heaven the happiness
whose seed was not planted here. The injury is justly
irreparable; else had angels been immediately created.
But Salome was practising deception on herself.
Airs and graces which might have suited a coquettish
lady's-maid, but were in her a ghastly absurdity, did
she revive and perpetrate.  Struggling to repress the
ugly truth, she was in continual dread of exposure.
Fain would she dream for an hour of youth and beauty,
knowing, yet veiling the knowledge, that it was a
dream.  Divining her desire, Balder helped out the
masquerade as best he might.  She was thankfully
aware of his kindness, yet shunned acknowledgment,
as a too bare betrayal of the cause of thanks.
As they passed a cracked cheval-glass in an intervening room, the bridesmaid stole a glance at her reflection, flirting her fan and giving an imposing whisk
to the train of her gown. Helwyse, whom, three days
before, this behavior would simply have amused, felt




MARRIED.                  339
only pitying sympathy to-day.  Gnulemah was always
before him, and charmed his eyes and thoughts even
to the hag on his arm. He brought himself to address
courteous and pleasant remarks to his companion, and
to meet unwincingly her one-eyed glance; and was
as gallant as though her pretence had been truth.
On entering the conservatory, Nurse seemed as
much agitated as though she, instead of Gnulemah,
were to be chief actress in the coming ceremony.
At the Sphinx door she relinquished Balder's arm,
and, hurrying across the conservatory, vanished behind
Gnulemah's curtain. As she passed out of sight she
threw a parting glance over her shoulder. The action
recalled Gnulemah's backward look of the day previous, when sle had fled at the sound of the closing
door. What ugly fatality suggested so fantastic a
parallel between this  creature and Balder's future
wife!
He entered the tenple, which glowed and sparkled
like a sombre gem. Many-colored lamps were hung
on wires passing round the hall from pillar to massive
pillar.  Their glare defined the strange character of the
Egyptian architecture and ornament; nevertheless, the
place looked less real and substantial than in the
morning.  It seemed the impalpable creation of an
enchanter, which his wand would anon dissolve into
air once more I




340                 IDOLATRY.
On each side the door sat a statue of polished red
granite, with calm regular face and hands on knees.
Helwyse, who had not observed them before, fancied
them summoned as witnesses to the compact then to
be solemnized. Doubtless they had witnessed ceremonies not less solemn or imposing.
On the black marble altar at the further end of the
hall was burning some rich incense, whose perfumed
smoke, clambering heavily upwards, mingled with that
of the lamps beneath the ceiling. On the polished
floor, in front, lay a rug of dark blue cloth, heavily bordered with gold; upon it werd represented in conscientious profile a number of lank-limbed Egyptians performing some mystic rite. To the right of the altar
stood the priest Manetho, apparently engaged in prayer.
Balder spoke to him.
"This is more like a tomb than a wedding hall.
Would not the conservatory have been more fitting?"
"Better make a tomb the starting-point of marriage
than its goal!" smiled the holy man. "And is it not
well that your posterity should begin from the spot
which saw the union that gave you being? and beneath the eyes of him but for whom neither this hall
nor we who here assemble would to-day have existed!"
He pointed to the mummy of old Hiero Glyphic, the
aspect of which might have left a bad taste in the
mouth of Joy herself. Balder shrugged his shoulders.




MARRIED.                  34i
" It matters little, perhaps, where the seed is sown,
so that the flower reach the sunshine at last. But
your mummy is an ill-favored wedding-guest, whatever
honor we may owe the man who once lived in it. I
would not have Gnulemah   "
"Behold her!" interrupted Manetho, speaking as
though a handful of dust had suddenly got in his
throat.
Yes, there she came, the old Nurse following her like
a misshapen shadow. Daughter of sun and moon, - a
modern Pandora endowed with the strength of a loftier
nature! She was robed in creamy white; her pendants were woven pearls.  Fine lines of virgin gold
gleamed in her turban, and through her long veil, and
along the folds of her girdle. But the serpent necklace
had been replaced by the dandelion chain that Balder
had made her. Her lips and cheeks were daintily
aflame, and a tender fire flickered in her eyes, which
saw only Balder.  She was a bridal song such as had
not been sung since Solomon.
As the two reached the altar, Salome stepped to one
side, and Manetho's eye fell upon her; for a moment
his gaze fixed, while a slight movement undulated
through his body, as the wave travels along the cord.
The old white dress, unseen for five-and-twenty years;
some intangible trick of motion or attitude in the
wearer; the occasion and circumstance recurring with




342                  IDOLATRY.
such near similarity, - these and perhaps other trifles
combined to recall long-vanished Salome. She had
stood at that other wedding, just where Nurse was now,
- bright, shapely, sparkling-eyed, full of love for him.
What a grisly contrast was this I -Why had he
thrown away that ardent, loving heart? How sweet
and comfortable might life have been to-day, with
Salome his wife, and sons and daughters at her side,
— daughters beautiful as Gnulemah, sons tall as Balder! But Hatred had been his chosen mistress, and
dismal was the progeny begotten on her! The pregnant existence that might have been his, and the scars
and barrenness which had actually redounded to him,
were symbolized in the remembered Salome and her
of to-day.
The brief reminiscence passed, leaving Manetho face
to face with his sacred duty. With the warning of the
past in his ears and that of the future before his eyes,
did he step unrelenting across the threshold of his
crime? At all events he neither hesitated nor turned
back. But there was no triumph in his eyes, and his
tones and manner were heavy and mechanical; as
though the Devil (having brought him thus far with his
own consent and knowledge) had now to compel a
frozen soul in a senseless body!
The service began, none the less hallowed for the
lovers, because for Manetho it was the solemn perver



MARRIED.                   343
sion of a sacred ceremony.  His voice labored through
the perfumed air, and recoiled in broken echoes from
gloomy corners and deep-tinted walls. The encircling
lamps glowed in serried lines of various light; the
fantastic incense-flame rustled softly on the altar.  The
four figures seemed a group of phantoms,- a momentary rich illusion of the eye. And save for their viewless souls, what were they more? Earth is a phantom;
but what we cannot grasp is real and remains!The rite was over, the diamond gleamed from Gnulemah's finger, and the priest with uplifted hands had
bade man not part whom God had united.  Husband
and wife gazed at each other with freshness and wonder in their eyes; as having expected to see some
change, and anew delighted at finding more of themselves than ever!
Male and female pervades the universe, and marriage is the end and fulfilment of creation. God has
builded the world of love and wisdom, woman and
man; truly to live they must unite, she yielding herself to his form, he moulding himself of her substance.
As love unquickened by wisdom is barren, and knowledge impotent unkindled by affection, so are the unmarried lifeless.
Ill and bitter was it, therefore, for Manetho and
Salome, after the married ones had departed, taking
their happiness with them. The priest's eyes were




344                  IDOLATRY.
dry and dull, as he leaned wearily against the smoking
altar.
" You did not speak!" he said to the woman; "you
saw her betrayed to ruin and pollution, and spoke not
to save her! — Dumb? the dead might have moved
their tongues in such need as this! She will abhor
and  curse me forever! may you share her curse
weighted with mine! - 0 Gnulemah!"
Salome cowered and trembled in her satin dress, beneath the burden of that heavy anathema.  She had
risen that day determined to reveal the secret of her
life before night.  She had been awaiting a favorable
moment, but opportunity or decision still had failed her.
Nevertheless, another morning should not find her the
same nameless, forsaken creature that she was now. 
Manetho had bowed his face upon the altar, and so
remained without movement. With one hand fumbling
at the bosom of her dress -(the scar of her lover's
blow should be the talisman to recall his allegiance), 
Salome made bold to approach him and timidly touch
his arm.
"Unhand me! whatever you are, - devil! my time
is not yet come!"
He raised a threatening arm, with a gleam of mad
ferocity beneath his brows. But the woman did not
shrink; the man was her god, and she preferred death
at his hands to life without him.  Ignorant of the




MARRIED.                 345
cause of her firmness, it seemed to cow him. - He
slunk behind the altar, hurriedly unlocked the secret
door, and let himself into the study. His haste had
left the key in the lock outside. The door slammed
together, the spring-bolt caught, and the swathed head
of old Hiero Glyphic shook as though the cold of
twenty winters had come on him at once.
15*




XXXII.
SHUT  IiN.
LEFT alone, Salome was taken with a panic; she
fancied herself deserted in a giant tomb, with
dead men gathering about her. She herself was in
truth the grisliest spectre there, in her white satin
gown and feathers, and the horror of her hideous face.
But she took to flight, and the key remained unnoticed
in the lock.
We, however, must spend an hour with Manetho in
his narrow and prison-like retreat. There is less day
and more night between these high-shouldered walls
than elsewhere; for though the sun is scarce below the
horizon, cobwebs seem to pervade the air, making the
evening gray before its time. Yonder seated figure is
the nucleus of the gloom. The room were less dark
and oppressive, but for him!
Does he mean to spend the night here? He sits at
ease, as one who, having labored the day long hard and
honestly, finds repose at sundown grateful.  Such calm
of mind and body argues inward peace - or paralysis!
But Manetho has food for meditation, for his work




SHUT IN.                   347
is still incomplete.  Ah, it has been but a sour and
anxious work after all! when it is finished, let death
come, since Death-in-life will be the sole alternative.
Yet will death bring rest to your weariness, think
you? Would not Death's eyes look kindlier on you, if
you had used more worthily Death's brother, -Life?
What would you give, Manetho, to see all that you
have done undone? if to undo it were possible 
One picture is ever before you, - you see it wherever
you look, and whether your eyes be shut or open, -
two loving souls, standing hand in hand before you
to be married.  How happy they look! how nobly
confident is their affection! with what clear freedom
their eyes sound one another's depths I Neither cares
to have a thought or feeling unshared by the other. -
What have you done, Manetho? -- shall the deed
stand?  0 dark and distorted soul! the minutes are
slipping fast away, and you are slipping with them to
a black eternity. Will you stir hand nor foot to save
yourself, to break your fall? not raise your voice, for
once to speak the truth?  Even yet the truth may
save! 
The night of your life will this be, Manetho. Will
you dream of those whose few hours of bliss will stamp
Forever on the seal of your damnation? Think, —
through what interminable aeons the weight of their
just curse will pile itself higher and heavier on your




348                  IDOLATRY.
miserable soul! Fain would you doubt the truth of
immortality: but the power of unbelief is gone; devillike, you believe and tremble. And where is the
reward which should recompense you for this large
outlay? Does the honey of your long-awaited triumph
offend your lips like gall? - Then woe for him whose
morning dreams of vengeance become realities in the
evening! -
How stands it between you and Gnulemah, Manetho? She has never loved you ardently, perhaps; but
how will you face her hatred? It is late to be asking
such questions, - but has not her temperate affection
been your most precious possession? have you not
yearned and labored for it? have you not loved her
with more than a father's tenderness?  Under mask
of planning her ruin, have not all the softer and better
impulses of your nature found exercise and sustenance?
Conceiving a devil, have you brought forth an angel,
and unawares tasted angelic joy? — If this be true,
Manetho, your guilty purpose towards her is not excused, but how much more awful becomes the contemplation of her fate  Rouse up! sluggard, rush forth!
you may save her yet. Up! would you risk the salvation of three souls to glut a meaningless spite? You
have been fighting shadows with a shadow. Up! - it
is the last appeal.You stir, — get stiffly to your feet, — put hand to




SHUT IN.                  349
forehead, - stare around. The twilight has deepened
apace; only by glancing upwards can you distinguish
a definite light. You are uncertain and lethargic in
your movements, as though the dawning in you of a
worthy resolution had impaired the evil principle of
your vitality. You are as a man nourished on poison,
who suddenly tastes an antidote, - and finds it fatal!
You halt towards the door and put forth a hand to
open it. You will save Gnulemah; her innocence will
save her from the knowledge of her loss. As for Balder,-his suffering will satisfy a reasonable enemy.
No wife, no fortune, the cup dashed from his lips just
as the aroma was ravishing his nostrils! - O, enough 
Open the door, therefore, and go forth.
In your magnanimity you feel for the key, but it is
not in its accustomed place. Try your pockets; still
in vain! Startled, you turn to the table, and feel carefully over it from end to end. You raise the heavy
chair like a feather, and shake it bottom downwards.
Nothing falls. You are down on your knees groping
affrighted amongst the dust and rubbish of the floor.
The key is lost! You spring up, — briskly enough
now, —and  stand with your long fingers working
against one another, trying to think. That key,where had you it last? 
A blank whirl' is your memory,- nothing stands
clearly out. How came you here? With whom did




350                  IDOLATRY.
you speak just now? What was said? - Two persons
there seemed to be, oddly combined in one, -most
unfamiliar in their familiarity. Or was it your evil
genius, Manetho? who by devilish artifice has at this
last hour shut the door against your first good impulse;
locked the door against soul and body; shut you in
and carried off the key of your salvation.
Do not give way yet; review your situation carefully. -Your voice would be inaudible through these
massive walls, were' the listener but a yard away. -
Be quick with your thinking, for the unmitigable minutes are dying fast and forever. - Were it known that
you were here, could you be got out?  No, for the
secret of the door is known only to yourself. Those
who once shared the knowledge with you are dead, or
many years gone! Your evil genius no doubt knows
it, and all your secrets; but dream not that she will
liberate you. She has been awaiting this opportunity.
You shall remain here to-night and many nights.
Your bones shall lie gaunt on this cobwebbed floor.
Only the daily sunbeam  shall know of your tomb.
And Gnulemah?..
Your knees falter beneath you, and you sink in
wretched tears to the floor, - tears that bring no drop
of comfort. To be shut up alone with a soul like yours,
at the moment when the sin so long tampered with has
escaped your control, and is pitilessly doing its devilish




SHUT IN.                  351
work on the other side your prison-walls, near, yet
inacessible, -- who can measure the horror of it? Till
now you have made your will the law of right and
wrong, and read your life by no higher light than your
own. You read it otherwise to-night, lying here helpless and alone. That lost key has unlocked the fair
front of your complacency and revealed the wizened
deformity behind it. You have been insane; but the
anguish that would craze a sane man clears the mist
from your reason. You behold the truth at last; but
as the drowning man sees the ship pass on and leave
him.
But we care not to watch too curiously the writhings of your imprisoned soul, Manetho; the less, because we doubt whether the agony will be of benefit
to you. Forgiveness of enemies is perhaps beyond
your scope; even your rage to save Gnulemah was
kindled chiefly by your impotence to do so. God forbid we do you less than justice! but hope seems dim
for such as you; nor will a death-bed repentance,
however sincere, avail to wipe away the sins of a
lifetime. Jealousy of Balder, rather than desire for
Gnuelmah's eternal weal, awoke your conscience. For
the thought of their spending life in happy ignorance
of their true relationship inflames - does not allay -
your agony!
Your womanish outburst of despairing tears over, a




352                 IDOLATRY.
hot fever of restlessness besets you. The space is narrow for disquiet such as yours, - you hunt up and down
the strip of floor like a caged beast. No way out, —no
way out! —Face to face with lingering death, why not
hasten it? No moral scruple withholds you. Yet will
you not die by your own hand. Through all your suffering you will cling to life and worship it. Never
will you open your arms to death, - which seems to
you no grave, compassionate angel, but a malignant
fiend lying in ambush for your soul. And such a fiend
will your death be; for to all men death is the reflection of their life in the mind's mirror.- Still to and fro
you fare, a moving shadow through a narrow gloom,
walled in with stone.
Awful is this unnatural sanity of intellect: it is like
the calm in the whirlwind's centre, where the waves
run higher though the air is deadly still, and the surly
mariner wishes the mad wind back again. - To and fro
you flit, goaded on and strengthened by untiring anguish. You are but the body of a man; your thought
and emotion are abroad, haunting the unconscious, happy lovers!
Suddenly you stop short in your blind walk, throw
up your arms, and break into an irrepressible chuckle.
Has your brain given way at last? - No, your laugh is
the outcome of a genuine revulsion of feeling, intense
but legitimate. What is the cause of it?- You plunge




SHUT IN.                   353
into the rubbish-heap at one end of the room, and
grasp and draw forth the rickety old ladder which has
been lying there these twenty years.  You have seen
it almost daily, poking out amidst the cobwebs, and
probably for that very reason have so long failed to
perceive that it was susceptible of a better use than to
be food for worms.  You set it upright against the
wall; its top round falls three feet below the horizontal
aperture.  Enough, if you tread with care.  Narrow,
steep, and rickety is the path to deliverance; but up 
for your time is short.
Upward, with cautious eagerness! The ladder is
warped and rests unevenly, and once or twice a round
cracks beneath the down-pressing foot; the thing is all
unsound and might fall to pieces at any moment.
However, the top is gained, and your nervous hands
are on the sill at last.  Raising yourself a little higher,
you look forth on the world once more.
Not so late after all! Red still lingers along the
western horizon, but against it is mounting and expanding a black cloud, glancing ever and anon with
dangerous lightning.  In a clear sky-lake above the
cloud, steadily burns a planet.  The gentle twilight
rests lovingly on earth's warm bosom -
Hark! look! what moves yonder beneath  the
trees? -
Your parched, eager face strained forwards, your hunw




354                  IDOLATRY.
gry eyes eating through the gloom, -see emerge from
the avenue twofigures, sauntering lover-like side to
side! How forgetful of the world they seem    Little
think they of you, of the rack on which you have been
outstretched.  But their hour has come. This moment shall be their last of peace, - their last of happy
love.
-What sound was that? -Was it a yell of triumph, - a shout for help,- a scream  of terror? - It
does not come again; but the silence is more terrible
than the cry.




XXXII.
THE BLACK CLOUD.
"  IEIRO, - it was his voice!" said Gnulemah.
She looked in her lover's face, trusting to
his wisdom and strength. She rested her courage on
his, but her eyes stirred him like a trumpet-call. The
burden of that cry had been calamity. Love is protean,
- makes but a step from dalliance to grandeur. Balder, no longer a sentimental bridegroom, stood forth
ready, brief, energetic, - but more a lover than before!
The voice had at the first moment sounded startlingly clear, then it had seemed distant and muffled.
As Helwyse swiftly skirted the granite wall of the
temple, his mind was busy with conjecture; but he
failed to hit upon any reasonable explanation.  The
cry had come from the direction of the temple, and
had he known of the existence of the apertures through
the masonry, he might partly have solved the mystery.
As it was, he thought only of getting inside, feeling
sure that, explainably or not, Manetho must be there.
In the oaken hall lie met Nurse, who had also heard
the cry, but knew not whence it proceeded.




356                  IDOLATRY.
"In the temple, I think," said Helwyse, answering
her agitated gesture.
The clew was sufficient; she sped along towards the
door whence she had so lately fled panic-stricken,
Helwyse following. Beneath the solemn excitement
and perplexity, lay warm and secure in his heart the
thought of Gnulemah,- his wife. Blessed thought!
which the whips and scorns of time should make but
more tenderly dear and precious.
As he breathed the incense-laden air of the temple,
Balder's face grew stern. At each step he thought to
see death in some ghastly form. In the joy of this his
marriage night he had wished all the world might have
rejoiced with him; but already was calamity abroad.
Birth and death, love and hate, happiness and woe,
are borne on every human breath, and mingled with
daily meat and drink.  So be it  — They were parodies of humanity who should live on a purer diet or
inhale a rarer atmosphere.
All the lights in the great hall, except the altarlamp, were burnt out, and the place was very dusky.
Nurse went straight towards the secret door, looking
neither to the right nor left; while Helwyse, who did
not suspect its existence, was prying into each dark
nook and corner. An inarticulate exclamation from
the woman arrested him.  She was standing behind
the altar, close to the clock. As he approached she




THE BLACK CLOUD.               357
pointed to the wall. She had found the key in the
lock, but dared not be first to brave the sight of what
might be within. She appealed to the strength of the
man, yet with a morbid jealousy of his precedence.
Helywse saw. the key, and, turning it, the seemingsolid wall disclosed a door, opening outwards, a single
slab of massive granite. Within all was dark, and
there was no sound. Was anything there?
He looked round to address Nurse, but her appearance checked him.  She was staring into the darkness;
he could feel her one-eyed glance pass him, fastening
on something beyond. He moved to let the lamplight enter the doorway; and then in the illuminated
square that fell on the floor he saw Manetho's upturned
face. The fallen priest lay with one arm  doubled
under him, the other thrown across his breast. Nurse
stared at her broken idol, motionless, with stertorous
breathing.
But was Manetho dead? Helwyse, the physician,
stepped across the threshold, and stooped to examine
the body. The dumb creature followed and lay down,
animal-like, close beside the deity of her worship.
Presently the physician said,
"There's life in him, but he's hurt internally. We
must find a way to move him from here."
"Life! "- the woman heard, nor cared for more.
Her dry fixedness gave way with a gasp, and she




358                 IDOLATRY.
broke into hysteric tears, rocking herself backwards
and forwards, crooning over the insensible body, or
stooping to kiss it. She had no sense nor heed save
for the lover of her youth.
"Could such a creature have been his wife? or
even his mistress?" questioned Helwyse of himself.
But he spoke out sharply:"You must stop this. He must be revived at once.
Go and make ready a bed, and I will carry him to it."
As he spoke, a silent shadow fell across the body,
and Gnulemah stood in the doorway. Balder's first
impulse was to motion her away from a spectacle so
unsuited to her eyes.  But though the shadow made
her face inscrutable, the lines of her figure spoke,and not of weak timidity or effeminate consternation.
Womanly she was, - instinct with that tender, sensitive power, the marvellous gift of God to woman only,
which almost moves the sick man to bless his sickness.
A holy gift, - surely the immediate influx of Christ's
spirit. Man knows it not, albeit when he and woman
have become more closely united than now, he may
attain to share the Divine prerogative.  Study nor
skill can counterfeit it; but in the true woman it is
perfect at the first appeal as at the last.
"He shall have my bed," said this young goddess
Isis; "it is ready, and my lamp is burning."
Balder stooped to uplift his insensible burden.




THE BLACK CLOUD.               359
"0, not so!-more tenderly than that," she interposed, softly. A  moment's hesitation, and then she
unfastened the golden shoulder-clasp, and shook off
her ample mantle.  This was Manetho's litter.
"I will help you carry him. - Why do you weep;
Nurse? he will awake, or Balder would have told us."
Never, since Diana stooped to earth to love Endymion, was seen a nobler sight than Gnulemah in her
simple, clinging tunic, whose heavy golden hem kissed
her polished knee, while her round and clear-cut arms
were left bare. After the first glance, her lover lowered
his eyes, lest he should forget all else in gazing at her.
But the blood mounted silently to his cheeks and
burned there. As for her, —she trusted Balder more
freely than herself.
Manetho was laid gently on the broad robe, and so
upraised and borne forwards; Balder at the head, Gnulemah at the foot. Heavy, heavy is a lifeless body;
but the man had cause to wonder at the woman's fresh
and easy strength. What a contrast was she to the
disfigured creature who hobbled moaning beside the
litter, the relaxed hand clutched in both hers, kissing
it again and again with grotesque passion! Yet both
were women, and loved as women love.
The granite statues sitting serene at the doorway
maintained the stony calm which, only, deserves the
name of supernatural.  These passed, the flowery heat




360                  IDOLATRY.
of the dim conservatory brought them to Gnulemah's
room.  The curtain was looped up and the passage
clear.  Thus first did the wedded pair enter what
should have been their bridal chamber, and laid the
lifeless body on the nuptial bed.
A fair, pure room; the clear walls frescoed with
graceful wreaths of floating figures. In the eastern
window, through which the earliest sunbeams loved to
fall, stood an alabaster altar; on it a chain of faded
dandelions. The bed was a lovely nest, the lines flowing in long curves, —a barge of Venus for lovers to
voyage to heaven in.  On a table near at hand lay
some embroidered work at which Gnulemah's magic
needle had been busy of late. Balder glanced at these
things with a reverence almost timid; and, turning
back to what lay so inert and doltish on the sacred
bed, he could not but'sigh.
Every means was employed to rally the Egyptian
from his swoon. He bore no external marks of injury,
but there could be no doubt that he had sustained a
terrible shock, and possibly concussion of the brain;
the amount of the internal damages could not yet be
estimated. - Meanwhile the black cloud from the west
was muttering drowsily overhead, and an occasional
lightning-flash dulled the mild radiance of the lamp.
As consciousness ebbed back to the patient, the storm
increased, and the trembling roll of heavy thunder




THE BLACK CLOUD.              361
drowned the first gasps of returning life. Had that
vast cloud come to shut out his soul from heaven, and
was its mighty voice uttering the sentence of his condemnation? The air was thick with the inconsolable
weeping of the rain, and gusty sighs of wind drove its
cold tear-drops against the window.
How was it with Manetho? — During the instant
after the ladder had given way and he was rushing
through the air and clutching vainly at the dark void,
every faculty had violently expanded, so that he seemed
to see and think at every pore. The next instant his
rudely battered body refused to bear the soul's messages; light and knowledge sank into bottomless darkness.
By and by - for aught he knew it might have been
an eternity — a brief gleam divided the night; then
another, and others; he seemed to be moving through
air, upborne on a cloud. He strove to open his eyes,
and caught a glimpse of reeling walls, - of a figure,figures. A deep rumbling sound was in his ears, as of
the rolling together of chaotic rocks, gradually subsiding
into stillness.
He felt no pain, only dreamy ease. He was resting
softly on a bank of flowers, in the heart of a summer's
day. He was filled with peace and love, and peace and
love were around him.  Some one was nestling beside
him; was it not the woman, -the bright-eyed, smil16




362                 IDOLATRY.
ing gypsy with whom he had plighted troth? - surely
it was she.
"Salome, - Salome, are you here? Touch me, - lay
your cheek by mine. So, - give me your hand. I love
you, my pretty pet, - your Manetho loves you!"
Tile slow  sentences ended. Nurse had laid her
unsightly head beside his on the pillow, and the two
were happy in each other. 0 piteous, revolting, solemn sight!. Those faces, grief-smitten, old; long ago,
in passionate and lawless youth, they had perchance
lain thus and murmured loving words. And now for
a moment they met and loved again,-while death
knocked at their chamber door!
But Balder had perceived a startling significance in
Manetho's words. He took Gnulemah by the hand and
led her to the eastern window. A flash greeted them,
creating a momentary world, which started from the
womb of night, and vanished again before one could
say "It is there!"  Then followed a long-drawn, intermittent rumble, as if the fragments of the spectre
world were tumbling avalanche-wi~e into chaos.
"I remember now about the dandelions," Balder said.
"Was not Nurse with us then?"
"Yes," answered Gnulemah; "and it was she and
Hiero who took me from you. But why does he call
her Salome? and who is Manetho?"
Balder did not reply. He leant against the window



THE BLACK CLOUD.               363
frame and gazed out into the black storm. Knowing
what he now did, it required no great stretch of ingenuity to unravel Manetho's secret. - He turned to
Gnulemah, and, taking her in his arms, kissed her with
a defiant kind of ardor.
"What is it?" she whispered, clinging to him with
a reflex of his own unspoken emotion.
" We are safe!  But that man shall not die without hearing the truth," he added, sternly.
Again there was a dazzling lightning-flash, and the
thunder seemed to break at their very ears. By a
quick, sinuous movement, Gnuleinah freed herself from
his arm and looked at him with her grand eyes, - nightblack, lit each with a sparkling star.  Her feminine
intuition perceived a change in him, though she could
not fathom its cause. It jarred the fineness of their
mutual harmony.
"Our happiness should make others' greater," said
she.
He looked into her eyes with a gaze so ardent that
their lids drooped; and the tone of his answer, though
lover-like, had more of masculine authority in it than
she had yet heard from him.
" My darling, you. do not know what wrong he has
done you —and others.  It is only justice  that he
should learn how God punishes such as he!"
"Will not God teach him?" said Gnulemah, trem



364                 IDOLATRY.
bling to oppose the man she loved, yet by love compelled to do so.
Balder paused, and looked towards the bed. There
was a flickering smile on Manetho's face; he seemed to
be reviving. His injuries were perhaps not fatal after
all. Should he recover, he must sooner or later receive
his so-called punishment; meanwhile, Balder was inclined to regard himself as the chosen minister of Divine
justice. Why not speak now?
This was the second occasion that he had held
Manetho in his power, at a time when the Egyptian
had been attempting his destruction. In the previous
encounter he had retaliated in kind. Would the bitter
issue of that self-indulgence not make him wary now?
Here was again the murderous lust of power, albeit
disguised as love of justice. Had Balder's penitent
suffering failed to teach him the truth of human brotherhood, and equality before God?  Love, typified by
Gnulemah, would fain dissuade him from his purpose:
but love (as often happens when it stands in the way
of harsh and ignoble impulses) appeared foolishly merciful.
Once again his glance met Gnulemah's, -lingered a
moment, - and then turned away. It was for the last
time. At that moment he was less noble than ever before. But the expression of her eyes he never forgot;
the love, the entreaty, the grandeur,- the sorrow!



THE BLACK CLOUD.               365
He turned away and approached the bedside, while
Gnulemah went to kneel at her maiden altar.  Manetho's eyes were closed; his features wore a singularly
childlike expression.  In truth, he was but half himself; the shock he had sustained had paralyzed one part
of his nature. The subtle, evil-plotting Egyptian was
dormant; his brain interpreted nothing save the messages of the heart; only the affectionate, emotional
Manetho was awake.  The evil he had done and the
misery of it were forgotten. - All this Balder divined;
yet his assumption of godlike censorship would not
permit him to relent. It is when man deems himself
most secure that he falls, in a worse way than ever.
" Do you know me, Manetho?" demanded the young
ma cn.
The priest opened his eyes dreamily, and smiled, but
made no further answer.
" I am Balder Helwyse, - the son of Thor," continued the other, speaking with incisive deliberation, the
better to touch the stunned man's apprehension.  "I
once had a twin sister. You believe that Gnulemah is
she."
The priest's features were getting a bewildered, plaintive expression.  Either he was beginning to comprehend the purport of Balder's words, or else the sternness of the latter's tone and glance agitated him.
Balder concentrated all his force into the utterance




366                  IDOLATRY.
of the final sentences, vowing to himself that his fallen
enemy should understand! Did he think of Gnulemah then? or of Salome —partly for whose sake, as
he feigned, he had assumed the scourge?
" My sister died, - was burned to death before she
was a year old. In trying to save her, the nurse almost lost her own life.  On that same night, this nurse
gave birth to a daughter,-whose name you have
called Gnulemah.  Salome is her mother. Who her
father is, Manetho, you best know!"
The words were spoken,-but had the culprit heard
them? Salome (who from the first had shrunk back
to the head of the bed, beyond the possible range of
Manetho's vision) burst into confused hysteric cries.
Gnulemah had risen from her altar and was looking at
Balder: he felt her glance, - but though he told himself that he had done but justice, he dared not meet
it! - He kept his eyes fastened on the pallid countenance of the Egyptian. The latter's breath came feebly
and irregularly, but the anxious expression was gone,
and there was again the flickering smile. All at once
there was an odd, solemn change. -
The man was dying. Balder saw it, - saw that his
enemy was escaping him unpunished! There yet remained one stimulant that might rouse him, and in the
passion of the moment this self-appointed lieutenant
of the Almighty applied it.




THE BLACK CLOUD.               367
"Come forward here, Salome!" cried he; "let him
look on the face that his sins have given you. As
there is a God in Heaven, your wrongs shall be set
right! "
Salome moved to obey; but Gnulemah glided swiftly
up and held her back. Balder stepped imperiously
forward to enforce his will.  Had he but answered
his wife's eyes even then! —He came forward one
step.
Then burst a thunder-clap like the crashing together
of heaven and earth! At the same instant a blinding,
hot glare shut out all sight. Balder was hurled back
against the wall, a shock like the touch of death in
every nerve.
He staggered up, all unstrung, his teeth chattering.
He saw, - not the lamp, flickering in the draught from
the broken window, - not Manetho, lying motionless
with the smile frozen on his lips,- not Salome, prostrate across the body of him she had worshipped.
He saw Glnulemah - his wife whom he loved - rise
from  the altar's step  against which she had been
thrown; stand with outstretched arms and blank, wideopen eyes; grope forwards with outstretched arms and
uncertain  feet; grope blindly  this way  and that,
moaning, -
"Balder,    Balder, — where are you?"
Shivering and desperate,   not yet daring for his life




368                   IDOLATRY.
to understand, -- he came and stood before her, almost
within reach of those groping hands.
"I am here, - look at me, Gnulemah! - I am here,
your husband! "
There was a pause.  The storm, having spent itself
in that last burst, was rolling heavily away. There was
silence in the nuptial chamber, infringed only by the
breathing of the newly married lovers.
"I hear you, Balder," said Gnulemah at length, tremulously, while her blank eyes rested on his face, " but I
cannot see you.  My lamp must have gone out.  Will
not you light it for me? "Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord: I will repay!
The storm-cloud moved eastward and was dispersed.
Black though had been'its shadow, it endured but for
a moment; the echo of its fury passed away, and its
deadly thunderbolt left behind a purer atmosphere.
So sweeps and rages over men's heads the storm of
calamity; and so dissolves, though seeming for the
time indissoluble.
But the distant planet comes forth serene from its
brief eclipse, and as night deepens, bears its steady fire
yet more aloft.  Like God's love, its radiance embraces
the world, yet forgets not the smallest flower nor grain
of sand. From its high station it beholds the infinite
day surround the night, and knows the good before and




THE BLACK CLOUD.              369
beyond the ill. Great is its hope, for causes are not
hidden from its quiet eternal eye.
No journal of a life has been our tale; rather a
glimpse of a beginning! We have traversed an alpine
pass between the illimitable lands of Past and Future.
We have felt the rock rugged beneath our feet; have
seen the avalanche and mused beside the precipice,
and have taken what relief we might in the scanty
greensward, the few flowers, and the brief sunshine.
Now, standing on the farewell promontory, let us
question the magic mirror concerning the further road,
-as, before, of that from the backward horizon hitherwards.
Mr. MacGentle's quiet little office: himself —more
venerable by a year than when we saw  him lastin his chair: opposite him, Dr. Balder Helwyse. The
latter wears a thick yellow beard about six inches in
length, is subdued in dress and manner, and his smile,
though genial, has something of the sadness of autumn
sunshine.  The two have been conversing earnestly,
and now there is a short silence.
"We must give up hoping it, then," says Mr. MacGentle at last, in a more than usually plaintive murmur. "It is hard,    very hard, dear Balder."
"Now that I know there is no hope, I can acknowledge the good even while I feel the hardship. Her
dreams have been of a world such as no real existence
16*                           x




370                  IDOLATRY.
could show; to have been awakened would permanently have saddened her, if no worse. But she is
great enough to believe without seeing; and in the
deepest sense, her belief is true. She still remains in
that ideal fairy-land in which I found her; and no
doubt, as time goes on, her visions grow more beautiful I"
Thus Balder Helwyse, in tones agreeably vigorous,
though grave and low.
"Yes -yes; and perhaps, dear Balder, the denial of
this one great boon may save her from much indefinite
disquiet; and certainly, as you say, from the great
danger of disappointment and its consequences. Yes,
- and you may still keep her lamp alight, with a more
lasting than Promethean fire!    But how is it with
you, dear boy?"
"Let none who love me pray for my temporal prosperity," returns Helwyse, turning his strong, dark gaze
on the other's aged eyes. "I have met with many
worshippers of false gods, but none the germs of whose
sin I found not in myself. The I to whom was confided this excellent instrument of faculties and senses
is a poor, weak, selfish creature, who fancied his gifts
argued the possession of the very merits whose lack
they prove. God, in His infinite mercy, deals sternly
with me; and I know how to thank Him!" -
Mr. MacGentle does not reply in words; but a grave




THE BLACK CLOUD.              371
smile glimmers in his faded eyes, and, smiling, he
slowly shakes his venerable head.
One more brief glimpse, and then we are done. 
A  pleasant parlor of southern  aspect, looking
through a deep bay-window  over a spacious garden.
Here sits a stalwart gentleman of middle age, with
a little boy and girl on either knee, who play bo-peep
with his wide-spreading yellow beard. How they all
laugh! and what a pleasant laugh has the stalwart,
dark-eyed gentleman, - so deep-toned and yet so boyish! But presently all three pause to take breath.
"Thor," then says the gentleman, "whose portrait
did I tell you that was?"  And he points to an oilpainting hanging over the piano.
"Grandpapa MacGentle, papa! "
" What did he do for all of us?"
As Master Thor hesitates a moment, the little
golden-haired lady breaks in, — " I know, papa! He
made uth rich, and gave uth our houthe, and he thaw
me when I wath a wee, wee baby, and then hehe-"
"He went to Heaven, papa! " says Thor, recovering
himself.
Hereupon  there was a silence, because the two
children, glancing  up  in  their father's face, saw
that it was grave and thoughtful.
But suddenly the little girl pricks up her small




372                     IDOLATRY.
ears, and scrambles to the carpet, and sets off for the
door at full speed, without a word.  Thor is close behind, but just too late to be first in opening the door.
"Mamma! mamma! "
And Balder Helwyse springs up, and as she enters
with the rejoicing children at each hand, he meets her
with the thrilling smile which, in this world, she will
never see 
THE END.
Cambridge: Electrotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.