know that I love you."
But he did not hear; he buried on with his head bowed over his breast,
down to the road, without reentering Rufinus' house.
CHAPTER VII.
When Orion reached home, wounded to the quick, he flung himself on a
divan. Paula had said that her heart was his indeed, but what a cool and
grudging love was this that would give nothing till it had insured its
future. And how could Paula have allowed a third person to come between
them, and rule her feelings and actions? She must have revealed to that
third person all that had previously passed between them--and it was for
this Melchite nun, his personal foe, that he was about to--it was enough
to drive him mad!--But he could not withdraw; he had pledged himself to
the brave old man to carry out this crazy enterprise. And in the place
of the lofty, noble mistress of his whole being, his fancy pictured
Paula as a tearful, vacillating, and cold-hearted woman.
There lay the maps and plans which he had desired Nilus to send in from
his room for his study of the task set him by Amru; as his eye fell upon
them, he struck his fist against the wall, started up, and ran like a
madman up and down the room which had been sacred to her peaceful life.
There stood her lute; he had freshly strung and tuned it. To calm
himself he drew it to him, took up the plectrum, and began to play. But
it was a poor instrument; she had been content with this wretched thing!
He flung it on the couch and took up his own, the gift of Heliodora.
How sweetly, how delightfully she had been wont to play it! Even now its
strings gave forth a glorious tone; by degrees he began to rejoice in
his own playing, and music soothed his excitement, as it had often done
before. It was grand and touching, though he several times struck the
strings so violently that their loud clanging and sighing and throbbing
answered each other like the wild wailing of a soul in torment.
Under this vehement usage the bridge of the lute suddenly snapped off
with a dull report; and at the same instant his secretary, who had been
with him at Constantinople, threw open the door in glad excitement, and
began, even before he had crossed the threshold:
"Only think, my lord! Here is a messenger come from the inn kept by
Sostratus with this tablet for you.--It is open, so I read it. Only
think! it is hardly credible! The Senator Justinus is here with his
wife, the noble Martina--here in Memphis, and they beg you
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