The Tour Part 9

The cloud of the perfumes is wafted over their eyes reverently closed under the veils.

The sacred silence continues, hour after hour, unbroken....

CHAPTER X

Had Lucius slept? Had he dreamed? Had the fragrant cloud drugged his senses? Had a strange mystic power spread over him? Had Serapis descended upon him? Had the dreams surrounded him?

It seemed to him that a golden thunder roused him from his heavy, motionless lethargy. The gong-strokes rolled through the temple and far away into the starry night. Harp-chords sounded, a hymn was intoned. He felt his veil wet with thick-rising dew....

Round and round the terraces, singing, moved the long procession of the priests. It was still night. Everywhere around Lucius the dreamers arose, drunk with sleep and dreaming. In the reflections of the lamps and torches their faces were ghostly, spiritualized as after a long prayer, after protracted adoration and ecstasy, wherein their thoughts, desires and souls had been refined.

On the topmost terrace, round which the whole city s.h.i.+mmered visibly with light--on the one side the nocturnal blue of the sea, on the other the silvery forking of the Nile's mouths through the Delta--the learned hierogrammats, the keepers of the sacred writings, sat each on his throne. In their hands they held unrolled the sacred scrolls, whose hieroglyphics gave answer to all things. Temple-slaves behind them lifted high the coloured lanterns. In front of them the mult.i.tudinous dreamers thronged.

Great was the thronging. The dreamers wanted to know the interpretation of their dreams. But those who had dreamed were so many that the priests did not answer save with a few words full of dark meaning.

Many, disappointed, went down the terraces. Orgy awaited them in the taverns and brothels along the ca.n.a.l....

Lucius had risen, in the midst of all his followers. He stood stiff, motionless, veiled in the gold net, like a G.o.d entranced.

"Lucius," Thrasyllus asked, "my dear child and master, tell me: have you dreamed?"

"Yes," replied Lucius, in a trance.

"I too," said Uncle Catullus. "It was a nightmare, most unpleasant! I had dined too heavily. My stomach was overloaded. And I am now s.h.i.+vering with this chilly dew. Egypt is most interesting, but Egypt will positively be the death of me!"

Caleb had approached:

"My gracious lord," said Caleb, "your Sabaean amulets have no doubt inspired you with a favourable dream. You must have your dream expounded. But not by the hierogrammats.... Look, the dreamers are crowding in front of them. There is no reaching them. You must have your dream expounded by a most holy prophet, by Amphris, the centenarian.... Come with me, let me lead you to him...." He took Lucius by the hand. "It costs half a talent, no less," said Caleb. "Thirty minae, my lord. But then Amphris will expound your dreams for you, Amphris, the holy Amphris. The hierogrammats charge ten or twenty drachmae. But they can never tell it as the holy Amphris, the prophet does. This is where he sits enthroned, my lord."

They were standing in front of a small pyramid, on one of the upper terraces. Two sphinxes beside the narrow door lay like mysterious stone sentinels. Temple-keepers guarded the gate.

"The most holy Amphris?" Caleb asked.

"Forty minae," said one of the priests.

"Why not a talent right away?" grumbled Caleb.

"Forty minae," repeated the priest.

Caleb took the gold coins from the long purse at his girdle and slipped them into the priest's hand:

"Enter, my lord," he said, pointing to the open door.

Lucius entered. Seated on a throne was an old man who looked like a G.o.d of age and wisdom. Lucius himself was as beautiful as a young G.o.d. A strange light, as of soft moons, shone from blue globes. Lucius bowed to the ground, fell upon his knees and kissed the floor. He remained in this position.

"Did Serapis pa.s.s over you, my son?"

"Yes, holy father."

"What did he make you see, in your dreams?"

"The woman whom I love...."

The prophet had laid his long, thin, transparent hand on the dreamer's head:

"But who did not love you," he said, gently and quietly.

"How do you know, holy father?... I saw the pirates who kidnapped her...."

"But by whom she was not kidnapped...."

"How do you know, holy father?"

"And by whom she was not sold as a slave."

"Where is she then, O father?"

"What did Serapis make you see in the dream?"

Lucius sobbed:

"I do not know, father.... I saw her and ... those who kidnapped her."

"How many were they?"

"Many."

"Old and young?"

"No, they resembled one another like brothers, like doubles."

"Because they were not many."

"Not many?"

"No."

"How many were they, father?"

"They were ... one."