“The sea,” she stammered. “Yes, the sea, I love it too. I always had it around me, at Cos. I also miss it in the forest, as you do, my lord.”
“Tomorrow we shall reach the sea again, Cora. … Cora, I want you, tonight, this last night … to dance to me … here, in the starlight.”
“Yes, my lord,” said the slave.
She danced. She softly hummed a tune between scarce-parted lips. The thin folds of her garment flew to either side; and with her veils she mimicked the movements of birds’ wings. She hovered round and round on the upland, circling like a swallow.
He stepped towards her; and she ceased dancing.
“Cora,” he said, “tomorrow we shall be at Dire, by the pillars of Sesostris. On the opposite side are Ebal and Usal and Saba, Caleb’s country, to which he wants to return when he is rich.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Cora, if you are really fond of Caleb, I will resign you to him.”
She trembled and clasped her hands. She fell on her knees and gave one loud sob.
“What’s the matter, Cora?”
“My lord, let me stay with you! Let me dance and sing for you, let me serve you, let me wash your feet; kick me, beat me, torture me! But do not send me away! Do not send me away! Keep me! Keep me with you! … I come from Dryope’s slave-school, I have cost you a fortune, my lord! I am not beautiful, but my voice is good and, my lord, I am a clever dancer. But, if your lordship is tired of my voice and my dancing, I will wash your feet; and, when you are angry and want to beat a slave, you shall beat me and ill-treat me! But keep me, keep me, wherever you may be!”
She had thrown herself before him and was sobbing and kissing his feet.
And he said:
“Then, Cora, don’t you love Caleb?”
“My lord,” she said, “I love you—if I must say it!—and I have loved you from the first moment when Thrasyllus brought me to you. And, if it please you, my lord, I will die for you. But keep me and do not give me to Caleb!”
“And if it pleased me, Cora … that you should not die for me but live for me? Not only to sing to me and dance to me, but also to throw your arms around my neck, to lay your breast upon my breast and your lips upon my lips? …”
She gave a cry as of incredible happiness. Smiling, he raised her very tenderly and folded her in his arms, close against him.
“Oh!” she cried, in ecstasy, when his lips sought hers. “Aphrodite! Aphrodite! She has heard my prayer!”
Her little hands ventured to reach out for his head and take it by the temples. Around them was the solitude of the Ethiopian night; from out of the forests the flowers filled the air with incense; a spice-laden aroma was wafted from the sea; and the radiant stars hung above them, like white suns, with the dazzling glory that was Sirius. …
XXVII
Cape Dire! The sea was reached; and there rose the obelisks, the shafts, the pillars of Sesostris, whose sacred writings immortalized the remembrance of the passage of the Egyptian world-ruler who for nine years had linked conquest to conquest, even to Arabia, even to Bactriana, even to India. And Caleb approached Lucius with a smile and said:
“Most noble lord, I wished to keep it for you as a surprise and would not tell you before, but this little diversorium at Cape Dire, overlooking my beloved native land, belongs to us, to Ghizla and me, and is a small branch of our great Hermes House at Alexandria; and tonight you need no longer sleep in a tent, but will have a worthy apartment and sleep on a soft couch of skins. For, though you are still without your own furniture and your sumptuous utensils and treasures of art and though this little guesthouse is not to be compared with our big diversorium, it is nevertheless comfortable and clean and it has bathrooms and kitchens and we built it here for the accommodation of any noble lords who travel from Alexandria to the pillars of Sesostris or from the pillars of Sesostris to Alexandria.”
And Caleb, swaggering gaily and elegantly on the tips of his red boots, led the travellers into his guesthouse; and Lucius, for the first time for weeks, bathed not in a rustling stream but in a bathroom, where his slaves rubbed and kneaded his body.
Caleb stood on the cape, with his hand above his eyes, and looked out in astonishment. He was surprised that the quadrireme, with Uncle Catullus on board, had not arrived from the Gulf of Acathantus, nay, was not even in sight. Could there have been an accident? He told his fears to no one but Thrasyllus; and the two stood looking long on the point of Cape Dire, gazing into the distance, each with his hand above his eyes.
But at last, when night began to fall, the great, graceful sea-monster appeared on the horizon, with her prow erect like a swan’s neck and her hundreds of slender legs moving in unison; and the rose-yellow sails bellied in the breeze; and the silver statue of Aphrodite shot forth its silver spark of light; and the rowers’ long, melancholy chant, the soft, monotonous accompaniment of tiring work, was borne long and wistfully over the sea, together with the cheerful song of the sailors. And the travellers, who now all stood on the cape waiting for the ship, saw the figures of Uncle Catullus, of the stewards Vettius and Rufus, of the master and the steersman.
And they waved again and again; and Cora, with her harp pressed to her bosom, sang the song of welcome to the ship; and her voice
