Book 1 Chapter 6 of Arachne As soon as Herman had disappeared behind the door, Daphne begged Myrtleus to accompany her into the tent. After taking their seats there, the anxious exclamation escaped her lips. How excited he became again! The stay in Tennis does not seem to agree with you. You're cuffing, and Father expected so much benefit to your ailment from the pure moist air, and to Herman still more from the lonely life here in your society, but I've rarely seen him more strongly enlisted in behalf of the tendency opposed to beauty. Then your father must be satisfied with the good effect which our residence here has exerted upon me, replied Myrtleus. I know that he was thinking of my illness when he proposed to us to complete his commissions here. Herman, the good fellow, could never have been induced to leave his Alexandria, had not the hope of thereby doing me a kindness induced him to follow me. I will add it to the many for which I am already indebted to his friendship. As for art, he will go his own way, and any opposition would be futile. A goddess, he pursues it himself, was certainly the most unfortunate subject possible for his— Is this the meter of complete failure? asked Daphne anxiously. Certainly not, replied Myrtleus eagerly. The head is even one of his very best. Only the figure awakens grave doubts. In the effort to be faithful to reality, the fear of making concessions to beauty, he lapsed into ungraceful angularity and a sturdiness which, in my opinion, would be unpleasing even in a mortal woman. The excess of unbridled power again makes itself visible in the wonderfully gifted man. Many things reached him too late, and others too soon. Daphne eagerly asked what he meant by these words, and Myrtleus replied, Surely you know how he became a sculptor. Your father had intended him to be a successor in business, but Herman felt the vocation to become an artist—probably first in my studio—awake with intense force. While I early placed myself under the instruction of the Great Preaxis, he was being trained for a merchant's life. When he was to guide the reed in the counting-house, he sketched. When he was sent to the harbour to direct the loading of the ships, he became absorbed in gazing at the statue's place there. In the warehouse he secretly modelled instead of attending to the bails of goods.  My father meant so kindly toward him, Daphne protested. He was appointed guardian to your both. You are rich, and therefore he aided in every possible way your taste for art, but Herman did not inherit from his parents a single drag-me, and so my father saw the most serious struggles awaiting him if he devoted himself to sculpture. And besides, he had destined his nephew to become a successor, the head of one of the largest commercial houses in the city. And in doing so, Myrtle has responded, he believed he'd made the best provision for his happiness. But there is something peculiar in art. I know from your father himself how kind his intentions were, when he withdrew his assistance from Herman, and when he had escaped to the island of Rhodes, left him to make his own way during the first period of apprenticeship through which he passed there. Necessity, he thought, would bring him back to where he had a life free from anxiety waiting him. But the result was different. Far be it from me to blame the admirable Arceus, yet had he permitted his ward to flow his true vocation earlier it would have been better for him. Then you think that he began to study too late? asked Daphne eagerly. Not too late, was the reply, but with his passionate struggle to advance, an earlier commencement would have been more favourable. While the companions of his own age were already doing independent work, he was still a student, and so it happened that he began for himself too soon. Yet, Daphne answered, can you deny that directly after Herman produced his first work, which made his talent undeniable, my father again treated him like his own son? On the contrary, replied Murtus, I remember only too well how Arceus at that time, probably not entirely without your intercession, fairly showered gold upon his nephew. But, unfortunately, this abundance was by no means to his advantage. What do you mean? asked Daphne. Were not you at that very time in full possession of the great wealth inherited from your father and mother, and yet did you not work far beyond your strength?  My kind master, cried Murtus deeply moved. He was as anxious about me as a father, because he perceived that you were destined for great achievements, and because it did not escape his penetration, how much I needed care. My lungs, Daphne, my lungs, surely you know how the malicious disease became fatal to my dear mother and to my brother and sister also. All three sank prematurely into the grave, and for years the shades of my parents have been beckoning to me too. When the cuff shakes my chest, I see Karen raise his oar and invite me also to enter his sable boat.  The cuff alone makes me a little anxious. If you could only see for yourself what a beautiful color the pure air has given your cheeks. This flush, replied Murtus gravely, is the sunset of life's closing day, not the dawn of approaching convalescence. But let us drop the subject. I allude to these sorrowful things only to prevent your praises of me at Herman's expense. True, even while a student, I possessed wealth far beyond my needs. But the early death of my brother and sister had taught me even then to be economical of the brief span of life allotted to me. Herman, on the contrary, was overflowing with manly vigor and the strongest among the effebe in the wrestling school. After three nights' revel he would not even feel wary, and how difficult the women made it for the handsome, black-bearded fellow to commend his work early. Did you ever ask yourself why young steeds are not broken in flowery meadows, but upon sand? Nothing which attracts their attention and awakens their desires must surround them. But your father's gold led Herman ere the season of apprenticeship was over into the most luxuriant clover fields. Honor and respect the handsome, hot-blooded youth that, nevertheless, he allowed himself to be diverted from work only a short time, and soon resumed it with ardent zeal, at first in superabundance, and then amid fresh need and privation. Oh, martyrless! the girl interrupted. How terribly I suffered in those days! For the first time the gods made me experience that there are black clouds as well as bright sunshine in the human soul. For weeks an impassable gulf separated me from my father, with whom I'd always had one heart and soul. But I never saw him as he was then. The first prize had been awarded to you for your effrodity, radiant and marvellous beauty, and your brow had also been already crowned for your statue of Alexander, when Herman stepped forward with his works. They were at the same time the first which were to show what he believed to be the true mission of art. A hideous hawker, hide in hand, praising his wares with open mouth, and the struggling minutes. Surely you know the horrible women who throw one another on the ground, tearing and rending with beastial fury. The spectacle of these fruits of the industry of one dear to me, grieved me also, and I could not understand how you and the others saw anything to admire in them. And my father, at the side of these things, the colour faded from his cheeks and lips, and as if by virtue of his garden ship he had a right to direct Herman in the paths of art also, he forbade his word to waste any more time in such horrible scare-crows, and awaken loathing and wrath instead of gratification, exultation and joy. You know the consequences, but you do not know how my heart ached when Herman, frantic with wounded pride and indignation, turned his back upon my father, and severed every tie that united him to us. In spite of his deep vexation, and the unbridled violence with which the nephew had allowed himself to address his uncle, my father did not dream of withholding his assistance from him. But Herman no longer came to our house, and when I sent for him to bring him to reason, he positively declared that he would not accept another obelisk from my father. He would rather starve than permit anyone to dictate to him in the choice of his subjects. Liberty was worth more than his uncle's gold. Yet my father sent him his annual allowance. But he refused it, added Merchless. I remember that day well, how I tried to persuade him, and when he persisted in his intention, besought him to accept from my abundance what he needed. But this, too, he resolutely refused, though at that time I was already so deeply in his death that I could not repay him at all with paltry money. You were thinking of the devotion with which he nursed you when you were so ill? asked Daphne. Certainly, yet not of that alone, was the reply. You do not know how he stood by me in the worst days. Who was it that after my first great successes, when Bays Envy clouded many an hour of my life, rejoiced with me, as though he himself had won the laurel? It was he, the ambitious artist, though recognition held even farther aloof from his creations than success. And when, just at that time, the insidious disease attacked me more cruelly than ever, he devoted himself to me like a loving brother. While formally, in the overflowing joy of existence, he had reveled all day, and caroused all night, how often he paused in the rush of gaiety to exchange the festal hall for a place beside my couch, frequently remaining there, until Eus died the east, that he might hold my fevered hand and support my shaken frame. Frequently, too, when already garlanded for some gay banquet, he took the flowers from his head and devoted the night to his friend, that he might not leave him to the attendants of the slaves. It is owing to him and the care and skill of the great leech are as his stratus, that I am still standing before you alive, and can praise what my hermon was, and prove himself to me in those days. Yet I must also accuse him of a wrong. To this hour I bear him a grudge for having in those sorrowful hours refused to share my property with me fraternally. What manly pride would have cheerfully permitted him to accept was opposed by the defiant desire to show me, your father, you, the whole world, that he would depend upon himself, and needed assistance neither from human beings nor even the gods. In the same way, while working, he obstinately rejected my counsel and my help, though the muse grant me some things which he unfortunately lacks. Great as his talent is, firmly as I believe that he will yet succeed some day in creating something grand, nay, perhaps something mighty, the unbelieving disciple of Straton lacks the power of comprehending the august dignity, the superhuman majesty of the divine nature, and he does not succeed in representing the twitching charm of woman, because he hates it, as the bull hates a red rag. Only once hitherto has he been successful, and that was with your bust. Daphnis cheeks suddenly flamed with a burning flush, and feeling it, she raised her feather fan to her eyes, and with forced indifference murmured, We were good friends from our earliest childhood, and besides, how small is the charm with which the artist who chooses me for a model has to deal. It is rather an unusually fascinating one, Myrtle has asserted resolutely. I have no idea of flattering you, and you are certainly aware that I do not number you among the beauties of Alexandria, but instead of the delicate, symmetrical features which artists need, the gods bestowed upon you a face which wins all hearts, even those of women, because it is a mirror of genuine, helpful, womanly kindness, a sincere disposition, and a healthy, receptive mind. To reproduce such a face, not exactly beautiful, and yet bewitching, is the hardest possible task, and Herman, I repeat it, has succeeded.  What does he not owe you? After the bridge which united him to his uncle and paternal friend had been so suddenly broken, it was you who rebuilt it. Now I think it is stronger than ever. I cannot imagine anything that would induce him to give you up, and all honour to your father, who, instead of bearing the insubordinate fellow a grudge, only drew him more warmly to his heart, and gave us two commissions which will permit each to do his best. If I see clearly the daughter of Arceus is closely connected with his admirable deed. Of course, replied Daphne, my father discussed his intention with me, but the thought was entirely his own. True, Herman's street boy eating figs was not exactly according to his taste, but it pleased him better than his former works, and I agree with you, Freyna, it is remarkably true to nature. My father perceived this, too. Besides, he is a merchant who sets a high value upon what he's earned, and Herman's refusal of his gold startled him. Then the good man also saw how nobly, in spite of his wild life, his obstinacy, and the work so pleasing to him, his nephew always showed the noble impulses inherited from his brave father, and thus Herman gained the day. But what would have become of him last year after the mortifying rejection of his model of the happy return home for the harbour of Unostus, asked Myrtleus, if you and your encouragement had not cheered him? That verdict, too, was abominable, exclaimed Daphne, indignantly. The mother opening her arms to the returning son was unlovely, it is true, and did not please me, either, but the youth with a travelling hat and staff is magnificent in his vigour and natural action. That opinion, as you know, is mine also, replied Myrtleus. In the mother, the expression was intended to take the place of beauty. For the returning son, as well as for the fig eater, he found a suitable model. True, the best was at his disposal first to meet her. Here he hesitated, but Daphne so urgently asked to know what he, who had already denied her admission to the studios, was now again withholding from her, that, smiling indulgently, he added, then I must probably consent to tell in advance the secret with which she were to be surprised, before him, as well as before me, hovered, since you wish to know it, in Alexandria, when we first began to model the head of the goddess, a certain charming face, which is as dear to one as to the other.  Yet how was it possible, since I posed neither to him nor to you?  This was at the disposal of us both in three or four reproductions, and besides, it hovered before our mental vision clearly enough. When the time to show you our work arrives, you'll be surprised to discover how differently two persons see and copy the same object. Now that I know so much, and have a certain share in your works, I insist upon seeing them, cried Daphne, with far greater impatiosity than usual. Tell Herman so, and remind him that I shall at any rate expect him to meet the Pelucinian guests at the banquet. Threaten him seriously with my grave displeasure if he persists in leaving it speedily. I will not fail to do my part, replied Myrtleus, but as to your wish to see the two Demeters. That will come to pass, interrupted Daphne, as soon as we three are together again like a cloverleave. She returned the sculptor's farewell greeting as she spoke, but before he reached the entrance to the tent, she again detained him with the exclamation. Only this one thing more does Herman deceive himself when he hopes so confidently for success with a weaver, a rachne. Hardly if the model whom he desires does not fail him. Is she beautiful? And did he find her here in Tennis? Asked Daphne, trying to assume an indifferent manner. But Myrtleus was not deceived, and answered gaily. That's the way people question children to find out things. Farewell until the banquet, fair curiosity. The slave bias had not gone to the hunting party with his master. He had never been fit for such expeditions, since the Egyptian god, who took him to the slave market for sale, crippled the art trader's son's left leg by a blow, but he was all the more useful in the house, and even the keenest eye could scarcely now perceive the injury which lessened his commercial value. He had prepared everything his master would need to shoot the birds very early in the morning, and after helping the man push the boats into the water, he too remained out of doors. The old Nubian drawkeeper's little badger dog ran to meet him, as usual, barking loudly, and startled the flock of sparrows, which flew up directly in front of bias and flooded to and fro in confusion. The slave regarded this as an infallible omen, and when Stefanian, Daphne's maid, who had grown gray in the household of Achias, and though a freed woman still worked in the old way, came out of the tent, he called to her the gay Greek greeting, Rejoice, pointed to the sparrows, and eagerly continued, how one flies above another, how they flutter and chirp and twitter, it will be a busy day. Stefanian thought this interpretation of the ordinary action of the birds very consistent with bias and wisdom, which was highly esteemed in the household of Achias, and it also just suited her inclination to chat with him for a while, especially as she had brought a great deal of news from Alexandria. By way of introduction she mentioned the marriages and death in their circle of acquaintances, bond and free, and then confided to the slave what had induced her mistress to remain so long absent from her father, whom she usually left alone for only a few hours at the utmost. Achias himself had sent her here after young Filotas, who was now apparently wooing her with better success than other suitors, had spoken of the enormous booty which one of his friends had borrowed from a shooting expedition at Tennis, and Daphne had expressed a wish to empty her quiver there too. True, Filotas himself had been eager to guide the hunting party, but Daphne declined his escort because, so the maid asserted, she cared far more about meeting her cousins, the skelters, than for the chase.  Meanwhile, Daphne had tried honestly to conceal her feelings from the old man, but such games of hide and seek were useless against the master's keen penetration. He spared no pains in the preparations for the journey, and the girl now seemed already transformed. This was caused solely by meeting her cousins again, but if anyone should ask her whether Daphne preferred Matelus or Hermann, she could not give a positive answer. Cautious inquiry saves recantation, replied Byers importantly, yet you may believe my experience, it is Matelus. Fame inspires love, and what the world will not grant my master, in spite of his great talent, it conceded to the other long ago. And besides, we are not starving, but Matelus is as rich as King Cresus of Sardis. Not that Daphne, who is stifling in gold herself, would care about that, but whoever knows life knows, where doves are, doves will fly. Stefanian, however, was of a different opinion, not only because Daphne talked far more about the black-bearded cousin than the fair one, but because she knew the girl, and was seldom mistaken in such matters. She would not deny that Daphne was also fond of Matelus, yet probably neither of the artists but Philotas would lead home the bride, for he was related to the royal family, a fine, handsome man, and besides, her father preferred him to the other suitors who hovered around her as flies buzzed about honey. Of course, Matus would be more favourable to Philotas in any other household. Who else in Alexandria would consult the daughter long, when he was choosing her future husband? But Arcaias was a right raven among Fathers, and would never force his only child to do anything. Marrying and loving, however, were two different affairs. If Eros had the final decision, her choice might perhaps fall on one of the artists. Here she was interrupted by the slave's indignant exclamation. What contradictions! Woman's hair is long, but her wit is short, says the proverb. Waiting is the mercant's wisdom, I have heard your master say more than once, and to obey the words of shrewd people is the best plan for those who are not so wise. Meanwhile, I am of the opinion that curiosity alone brought Daphne, who, after all, is only a woman, to this place. She wants to see the statues of Demeter, which her father ordered from us. And the arachne, asked the maid. This was an opportune question to the slave, how often he had heard the artist utter the word arachne, and his pride of education had suffered from the consciousness that he knew nothing about her, except the name, which in Greek meant the spider. Some special story must surely be associated with this arachne, for which his master desired to use his young countrywoman, Lecce, as a model, and whose statues Archaus intended to place in his house in Alexandria, and in the great weaving establishment at Tennis beside the statue of Demeter. Stefanion, a Greek woman who grew up in a Macedonian household, must know something about her. So he cautiously turned the conversation to the spinner arachne, and when Stefanion entered into it, admitted that he, too, was curious to learn in what way the sculptures would represent her. Yes, replied the maid, my mistress has more than once wracked her brains over that, and Archaus, too, perhaps they will carve her as a girl at work in the house of her father Edmund, the purple dire of Colophon. Never, replied Byers in a tone of descent, just imagine how the loom would look wrought in gold and ivory. I thought so, too, said Stefanion, in apology for the foolish idea. Daphne thinks that the two will model her in different ways, merciless, as mistress in the weaving room, showing with proud delight a piece just completed to the nymphs from the Pactolus and other rivers, who sewed her at Colophon to admire her work. But Herman, after she aroused the wrath of Athenae because she dared to weave into the hangings the love adventures of the gods with mortal women. Father Zeus, as a swan towing with Lida, replied Byers as confidently as if Arachne's work were before his eyes, and in the form of a bull bearing away Europa, the chaste Artemis bending over the sleeping endymion. How that pleases you, man, interrupted the maid, striking him lightly on the arm with the duster which she had brought from the tent. But would the virgin Athenae to be blamed because she punished the weaver who, with all her skill, was only a mortal woman, for thus exposing her divine kindred? Certainly not, replied Byers, and Stefanion went on eagerly, and when the great Athenae, who invented weaving and protects weavers, condescended to compete with Arachne and was excelled by her, surely her girl must have overflowed. Whoever is just will scarcely blame her for striking the audacious conqueror on the bro with the weaver's shuttle. It is that very thing, replied Byers modestly, which to a short-sighted fool like myself, may the great goddess not bear me a grudge for it, never seemed just in her. Even the mortal who succumbs in a fair fight ought not to be enraged against the victor, at least so I was taught. But what, I ask myself, when I think of the stones which were flung at Hermann's struggling menates, could be less suited for imitation than two women, one of whom strikes the other? The woman who in her desperation at that blow desires to hang herself must produce a still more horrible impression, replied Stefanion. Probably she will be represented as Athenae releases her from the news rather than when, as a punishment for her insolence, she transforms Arachne into a spider. That she might be permitted in the form of an insect to make artistic webs until the end of her life, the slave now sufficiently well informed, added importantly. Since that transformation, as you know, the spider has been called by the Greeks Arachne. Perhaps, always thought so, Hermann will represent her twisting the rope with which she is to kill herself. You have seen many of our works and know that we love the terrible. Oh, let me go into your studio. The maid now entreated no less urgently than her mistress had done a short time before, but her wish, too, remained ungratified. The sculptures, biased truthfully asserted, always kept their workrooms carefully locked. They were as inaccessible as the strongest fortress, and it was wise, less on account of curious spectators, from whom there was nothing to fear, than of the feverish propensities of the people. The statues, by Archaus's orders, were to be executed in Chrysal Eventine work, and the gold and ivory which this required might only too easily awaken the vice of cupidity in the honest and frugal biomass. So nothing could be done about it, not to mention the fact that he was forbidden, on pain of being sold to work in a stone quarry, to open the studio to anyone without his master's consent. So the maid, too, was obliged to submit, and the sacrifice was rendered easier for her because, just at that moment, a young female slave called her back to the tent where Chrysilla, Daphne's companion, a matron who belonged to a distinguished Greek family, needed her services. Baez, rejoicing that he had at least learned, without exposing his own ignorance, the story of the much-discussed arachne, returned to the house where he remained until Daphne came back from shooting with her companions. While the latter were talking about the birds they had killed, Baez went out of doors. But he was forced to give up his desire to listen to a conversation which was exactly suited to arrest his attention, for after the first few sentences he perceived behind the thorny acacia's, in the garden, his countrywoman ledger. So she was keeping her promise. He recognized her plainly, in spite of the veil which covered the back of her head and the lower portion of her face. Her black eyes were visible, and what a sinister light shone in them as she fixed them sometimes on Daphne, sometimes on Herman, who stood talking together by the steps. The evening before Baez had caught a glimpse of this passionate creature's agitated soul. If anything happened here that incensed or wounded her, she would be capable of committing some unprecedented act before the very master's honored guest. To prevent this was a duty to the master whom he loved, and against whom he had only warned ledger because he was reluctant to see a free maiden of his own race, placed on a level with the venal Alexandrian models. But still more because any serious love affair between Herman and the Biamite might bring disastrous consequences upon both, and therefore also on himself. He knew that the free men of his little nation would not suffer an insult offered by a Greek to a virgin daughter of their lineage to pass an avenged. True, in his bondage, he had by no means remained free from all the bad qualities of slaves, but he was faithfully devoted to his master, who had imposed upon him a great depth of gratitude. For though, during the trying period of variance with his rich and generous uncle, Herman had often been offered so large a sum for him that it would have relieved the artist from want. He could not be induced to yield his wise and faithful bias to another. The slave had sworn to himself that he would never forget this, and he kept his oath. Freedmen and slaves were moving to and fro in the large open square before him, amid the barking of the dogs and the shouts of the male and female vendors of fruit, vegetables, and fish, who hoped to dispose of their wares in the kitchen tent of the wealthy strangers. The single veiled woman attracted no attention here, but bias kept his gaze fixed steadily upon her, and as she curved little slender hand above her brow to shade her watchful eyes from the dazzling sunlight, and set her beautifully arched foot on a stone near one of the trees, in order to gain a better view, he thought of the story of the weaver which he had just heard. Though the stillness of the hot noontide was interrupted by many sounds, it exerted a bewitching influence over him. Letcher seemed like the embodiment of some great danger, and when she lowered one arm and raised the other to protect herself again from the radiance of the noonday sun, he started.  The illusion lasted only a few brief moments, but when it vanished and the girl had regained the figure of an unusually slender, veiled bayamite woman, he shook his head with a sigh of relief, for never had such a vision appeared to him in broad noonday and while awake, and it must have been sent to warn him and his master against this uncanny maiden, it positively announced some approaching misfortune which proceeded from this beautiful creature. The bayamite now advanced hesitatingly toward Herman and Daphne, who were still a considerable distance from her, but Bayes had also quit her his post of observation, and after she had taken a few steps forward, barred her way.  Ledger's veil concealed her mouth, but the expression of her eyes made him think that it curled scornfully, yet she silently followed him. At first he led her by the hand, but on the way he saw at the edge of her upper veil the thick, dark eyebrows which met each other, and her fingers seemed to him so strangely cold and tapering that a shutter ran through his frame and he released them. Ledger scarcely seemed to notice it, and, with bowed head, walked beside him through the side entrance to the door of Herman's studio. It was a disappointment to her to find it locked, but Bayes did not heed her angry complaint and led her into the artist's sitting-room, requesting her to wait for his master there. Then he hurried to the steps, and by a significant sign informed the sculpture that something important required his attention. Herman understood him, and Bayes soon had an opportunity to tell the artist who it was that desired to speak to him and where he had taken Ledger. He also made him aware that he feared some evil from her, and that, in an alarming vision, she had appeared to him as a hideous spider. Herman laughed softly. As a spider, the woman is appropriate. We will make her a woman-spider, an arachnid that is worth looking at. But this strange beauty is one of the most obstinate of her sex, and if I let her carry out her bold visit in broad daylight, she will get the better of me completely. The blood must first be washed from my hands here. The wounded sea eagle tore the skin with its claw, and I concealed the scratch from Daphne, a strip of linen to bandage it. Meanwhile, let the impatient intruder learn that her sign is not enough to open every door. Then he entered his sitting-room, greeted Ledger curtly, invited her to go into the studio, unlocked it, and left her there alone while he went to his chamber with the slave, and had the slight wound bandaged comfortably. While Baez was helping his master, he repeated with sincere anxiety his warning against the dangerous beauty whose eyebrows, which had grown together, proved that she was possessed by the demons of the Netherworld. Yet they increased the austere beauty of her face, assented the artist. I should not want to admit them in modeling arachne while the goddess is transforming her into a spider. What a subject! A bolder one was scarcely ever attempted, and, like you, I already see before me the coming spider. Then, without the slightest haste, he exchanged the huntman's chiton for the white clamis, which was extremely becoming to his long waving beard, and at last exclaimed gaily, if I stay any longer, she will transform herself into empty air instead of the spider. He went to her. While waiting in the studio, legislature had used the time to satisfy her curiosity. What was there not to be seen? On pedestals and upon the boards of the floor, on boxes, racks and along the wall, stood, lay, or hung the greatest variety of articles, plaster casts of human limbs, and parts of the bodies of animals, male and female, of clay and wax, withered garlands, all sorts of sculptor's tools, a ladder, vases, cups and jars for wine and water, a frame over which linen and soft-woolen materials were spread, a lute and a zither, several seats and armchair, and in one corner a small table with three dilapidated book rolls, writing tablets, metal styluses and reed pens. All these articles were arranged haphazard, and showed that Bias possessed more wisdom than care in the use of duster and broom. It would have been difficult to count the number of things brought together here, but the unusually long, wide room was by no means crowded. Ledger cast a wandering glance, sometimes at one object, sometimes at another, but without understanding its meaning or its use. The huge figure on the pedestal in the middle of the studio, upon which the full glare of light fell through the open windows, was certainly the statue of the goddess on which Hermon was working, but a large grey cloth concealed it from her gaze. How tall it was! When she looked at it more closely, she felt small and oppressed by comparison. A passionate longing urged her to remove the cloth, but the boldness of the act restrained her. After she had taken another survey of the spacious apartment, which she was visiting for the first time by daylight, the torturing feeling of being neglected gained possession of her. She clinched her white teeth more firmly, and when there was a noise at the door that died away again without bringing the man she expected, she went up to the statue which she had already walked past quietly several times, and obeying an impatient impulse freed it from its covering. The goddess, now illumined by the sunlight, shone before her in gleaming yellow gold and snowy ivory.   He had created a demeter. The wheat in her hand showed it. How beautiful this work was, and how valuable! It produced a powerful impression upon her mind, wholly unaccustomed to the estimate of such things. The goddess before her was the very one whose statue stood in the temple of Demeter, and to whom she also sacrificed with the Greeks in Tennis when danger threatened the harvest. Involuntarily she removed the lower veil from her face, and raised her hand in prayer. Meanwhile she gazed into the pallid face carved from ivory of the immortal dispenser of blessings, and suddenly the blood crimsoned her cheeks, the nostrils of her delicate, slightly arched nose rose and fell more swiftly, for the countenance of the goddess, she was not mistaken, was that of the Alexandrian whom she had just watched so intently, and for whose sake Hermon had left her in the lurch the evening before. Now too she remembered for what purpose the sculptor was said to have lured Gula, the sailor's wife, and her own young sister Taus to his studio, and in increasing excitement she drew the cloth also from the bust beside the Demeter. Again the Alexandrian's face, the likeness was even more unmistakable than in the goddess. The Greek girl alone occupied his thoughts, Hermon had disdained to model the biomass head. What could the others, or she herself, be to him, since he loved the rich foreigner in the tent outside, and her alone, how firmly her image must have been impressed upon his soul, that he could reproduce the features of the absent one with such lifelike fidelity, yet with what bold assurance he had protested that his heart belonged solely to her, but she thought that she now perceived his purpose. If the slave was right it was done that she might permit him to model what he admired in her figure, only not the head and face, whose beauty nevertheless he praised so extravagantly. Had he attracted Gula and her sister with similar sweet flatteries, had the promise to bestow their charms upon a goddess been made to them also. The swift throbbing of her indignant heart made it impossible for her to think calmly, but its vehement pulsation reminded her of the object of her presence here. She had come to obtain a clear understanding between him and herself. She stood here as a judge. She must know whether she had been betrayed or deceived. He should confess what his intentions towards her were. The next moments must decide the fate of her life, and she added, drawing a long breath, perhaps of his also. Suddenly, leisure started. She had not heard Herman enter the studio, and was now startled by his greeting. It was not positively unkind, but certainly not a lovers. Perhaps the words might have been warmer, but for his annoyance at the insolent boldness with which she had removed the coverings from his works. He restrained himself from openly blaming her, it is true, but he exclaimed with a tinge of gay sarcasm, You seem to feel very much at home here already, fairest of the fair. Or was it the goddess herself who removed the curtain from her image, in order to show herself to her successor upon this pedestal? But the question was to remain unanswered, for under the spell of the resentment which filled her heart, and in the effort not to lose sight of the object that brought her here, leisure had only half understood its meaning, and, pointing her slender forefinger at the face of his completed work, she demanded to know whom she recognized in this statue. The goddess Demeter, he answered quietly, But if it pleases you better, as you seem to be on the right track, also the daughter of Arcaias. Then, angered by the wrathful glance she cast at him, he added, more sternly, She is kind-hearted, free from disagreeable whims and the disposition to torture others who are kindly disposed towards her. So I daunt the goddess with her pleasant features. Mine, you mean to say, ledst you answered bitterly, would be less suitable for this purpose. Yet they too can wear a different expression from the present one. You, I think, have learned this. Only I shall never acquire the art of dissimulation, not even in your society. You seem to be angry, on account of my absence yesterday evening, Herman asked, in an altered tone, clasping her hand, but Ledstia snatched it from him, exclaiming, The model of Demeter, the daughter of the wealthy Arcaias, detained you, you are going to tell me? And you think that ought to satisfy the barbarian maiden? Folly, he answered angrily, I owe a debt of gratitude to her father, who was my guardian, and custom commands you also to honour a guest. But your obstinacy and jealousy are unbearable. What great thing is it that I ask of your love? A little patience. Practice it. Then your turn will come too. Of course, the second and third will follow the first, she answered bitterly. After Gula, the sailor's wife, you lured my innocent young sister, Teias, to this apartment. Or am I mistaken in the order, and was Gula the second? So that's it, cried Herman, who was surprised rather than alarmed by this betrayal of his secret. If you want confirmation of the fact, very well, both were here. Because you deluded them with false vows of love. By no means. My heart has nothing whatever to do with these visits. Gula came to thank me, because I rendered her a service, you know it, which to every mother seems greater than it is. But you certainly did not underestimate it, leds her impetuously interrupted, for you demanded her honour in return. Guard your tongue! the artist burst forth angrily. The woman visited me unasked, and I let her leave me as faithful or as unfaithful to her husband as she came. If I used her as a model, Gula, whom the sculptor transforms into a goddess, leds her interrupted with a sneering laugh. Into a fish-seller, if you wish to know it, cried Herman indignantly. I saw in the market a young woman selling shad. I took the subject, and found in Gula a suitable model. Unfortunately, she ventured here far too seldom, but I can finish it with the help of the sketch. It stands in yonder cupboard. A fish-seller, leds her repeated contemptuously. And for what did my taeus, poor lovely child, seem desirable? Over opposite, Herman answered quickly, as if he wished to get rid of a troublesome duty, pointing through the window out of doors. The free maidens, during the hot days, took off their sandals and waded through the water. There I saw your sister's feet. They were the prettiest of all, and Gula brought the young girl to me. I had commenced in Alexandria a figure of a girl holding her foot in her hand to take out a thorn, so I used your sister's for it. And when my turn comes, leds her demanded. Then, he replied, freshly captivated by the magic of her beauty, in a kinder, almost tender tone, I will make of you in gold and ivory you wonderfully lovely creature, the counterpart of this goddess. And you will need a long time for it? The oftener you come, the faster the work will advance. And the more, surely, the biomite women will point their fingers at me. Yet you ventured here to-day, unasked, in the broad light of noon. Because I wish to remind you, myself, that I shall expect you this evening. Yesterday you did not appear, but today I am right. Am I not? Today you will come. With the greatest delight, if it is possible, he answered eagerly. A warmer glance from her dark eyes rested upon him. The blood seathed in his veins, and as he extended both hands to her, and ardently uttered her name, she rushed forward, clinging to him with passionate devotion, as if seeking assistance. But when his lips touched hers, she shrank back, and loosed her soft arms from his neck. What does this mean? asked the sculptor in surprise, trying to draw her toward him again. But, ledger would not permit it, pleading in a softer tone than before. Not now, but am I not right, dearest? I may expect you this evening. Just this once, let the daughter of Archaus yield to me, who loves you better. We shall have a full moon tonight, and you have heard what was predicted to me. Tonight the highest bliss which the gods can bestow upon a mortal awaits me. And me also, cried Herman, if you will permit me to share it with you, then I will expect you on the Pelican Island. Just when the full moon is over the lofty poplars there, you will come, not to the owl's nest, to the Pelican Island. And, though your love is far less, far cooler than mine, yet you will not defraud me of the best happiness of my life. How could I? he asked, as if he felt wounded by such distrust. What detains me must be something absolutely unavoidable. Ledger's eyebrows contracted sharply, and in a choked voice she exclaimed, Nothing must detain you, nothing, whatever it may be, though death should threaten you will be with me just at midnight. I will, if it is possible, he protested, painfully touched by the vehemence of her urging. What can be more welcome to me also than to spend happy hours with you in the silence of a moonlight's night? Besides, my stay in tennis will not be long. You are going, she asked, in a hollow tone. In three or four days he answered carelessly. Then Mia Tillis and I will be expected in Alexandria.  Yes, the parting, but in six weeks at latest I shall be here again. Then real life will first begin, and Eros will make the roses bloom for us. Ledger nodded silently, and, gazing into his face with a searching look, asked, And how long will this season of blossoming last? Several months, girl, three, if not six. And then, who looks so far into the future? She lowered her glance, and, as if yielding to the inevitable, answered, What a fool I was! Who knows what the morrow may bring? Are we even sure whether six months hence we shall not hate, instead of loving each other? She passed her hand across her brow as she spoke, exclaiming, You said just now that only the present belonged to man. Then let us enjoy it, as though every moment might be the last. By the light of the full moon to-night, the happiness which has been predicted to me must begin. After it, the orb between the horns of Astati will become smaller, But when it fools and wanes again, if you keep your promise and return, Then though they may curse and condemn me, I will come to your studio, And grant what you ask. But which of the goddesses do you intend to model from me, As a companion statue to the Demeter? This time it cannot be one of the immortals, he answered hesitatingly, But a famous woman, an artist, who succeeded in a competition in vanquishing Even the august Athene. So it is no goddess, ledger asked, in a disappointed tone. No, child, but the most skillful woman who ever plied the weaver's shuttle. And her name? Arachne. The young girl started, exclaiming contemptuously, Arachne, that is what you Greeks call the most repulsive of creatures, the spider. The most skillful of all creatures, that taught man the noble art of weaving, he eagerly retorted. Here he was interrupted. His friend Mirtillas put his fair head into the room, exclaiming, Pardon me if I interrupt you, but we shall not see each other again for some time. I have important business in the city, and may be detained a long while. Yet, before I go, I must perform the commission Daphne gave me for you. She said in words that she shall expect you, without fail, At the banquet for the Pelucinean guests. Your absence, do you hear? Pardon the interruption, fairest ledger.  Then I shall be prepared for considerable trouble in appeasing her," replied Herman, glancing significantly at the young girl. Mirtillas crossed the threshold, turned to the biomass, and said in his quiet, cheerful manner, Where beautiful gifts are to be brought to Eros, it besiems the friend to strew with flowers the path of the one who is offering the sacrifices. And you, if everything does not deceive me, would feign choose tonight to serve him with the utmost devotion. Therefore I shall need forgiveness from you and the God. If I beseech you to defer the offering, were it only until tomorrow. Ledger silently shrugged her shoulders, and made no answer to the inquiring glance with which Herman sought hers. But Mirtillas changed his tone, and addressed a grave warning to his friend, to consider well that it would be an insult to the names of his dead parents, if he should avoid the old couple from Pelusium, who had been their best friends, and had taken the journey hither for his sake. Herman looked after him in painful perplexity, but the buyer might also approach the threshold, and, holding her head hortily erect, said coldly, The choice is difficult for you, as I see. Then recall to your memory again what this night of the full moon means, you are well aware of it, to me. If, nevertheless, you still decide in favour of the banquet with your friends, I cannot help it. But I must now know, shall this night belong to me, or to the daughter of Archaus? Is it impossible to talk with you, unlucky girl, as one would with other sensible people? Herman burst forth rothfully. Everything is carried to extremes. You condemn a brief, necessary delay as breach of faith and base treachery. This behaviour is unbearable. Then you will not come, she asked apathetically, laying her hand upon the door. But Herman cried out in a tone half-beseeching, half-imperious. You must not go so. If you insist upon it, surely I will come. There is no room in your obstinate soul for kind indulgence. No one, by the dog, ever accused me of being specially skilled in this smooth art. Yet there may be duties and circumstances. Here Ledger gently opened the door, but seized with a fear of losing this rare creature, whose singular beauty attracted him powerfully, even now, this peerless model for a work on which he placed the highest hopes, he strode swiftly to her side, and, drawing her back from the threshold, exclaimed, Difficult as it is for me on this special day, I will come. Only you must not demand what is impossible. The right course often lies midway. Half the night must belong to the banquet with my old friends and Daphne, the second half. To the barbarian, you think, the spider, she gasped hoarsely. But my welfare as well as yours depends on the decision. Stay here, or come to the island. You have your choice. Wrenching herself from his hold as she spoke, she slipped through the doorway and left the room. Herman, with a muttered oath, stood still, shrugging his shoulders angrily. He could do nothing but yield to this obstinate creature's will. In the atrium Ledger met the slave Bias, and returned his greeting only by a wave of the hand. But before opening the side door, which was to lead her into the open air, she paused and asked bluntly in the language of their people. Was Arachne, I don't mean the spider, but the weaver whom the Greeks call by that name, a woman like the rest of us? Yet it is said that she remained victor in a contest with the goddess Athene. That is perfectly true, answered Bias. But she had to atone cruelly for this triumph. The goddess struck her on the forehead with the weaver's shuttle, and when in her shame and rage she tried to hang herself, she was transformed into the spider. Ledger stood still, and while drawing the veil over her pallid face, asked with quivering lips, and, is there no other Arachne? Not among mortals was the reply, but even here in this house there are more than enough of the disagreeable creeping creatures which bear the same name. Ledger now went down the steps which led to the lawn, and Bias saw that she stumbled on the last one, and would have fallen had not her lithe body regained its balance in time. A bad omen, thought the slave, if I had the power to build a wall between my master and the spider yonder, it should be higher than the lighthouse of Sistratus. To heed omens guides one safely through life.  Recording by Peter Yersley Herman had intended to add a few more touches to his demator, but he could not do it. Ledger, her demand, and the resentment with which she had left him were not to be driven from his mind. There was no doubt that he must seek her if he was not to lose her, yet he reproached himself for having acted like a thoughtless fool when he proposed to divide the night between her and Daphne. There was something offensive in the proposal to sow proud a creature. He ought to have promised positively to come, and then left the banquet somewhat earlier. It would have been easy to apologize for his later rival, and Ledger would have had no cause to be angry with him. Now, she had, and her resentment awakened in him, though he certainly did not lack manly courage, an uncomfortable feeling closely allied to anxiety. Angered by his own conduct, he asked himself whether he loved the barbarian, and could find no satisfactory answer. At their first meeting he had felt that she was far superior to the other biomite maidens, not only in beauty, but in everything else. The very acerbity of her nature had seemed charming. To win this wonderful, pliant creature, slender as a cypress, whose independence merged into fierce obstinacy, had appeared to him worth any sacrifice, and having perceived in her an admirable model for his arachne, he had also determined to brave the dangers which might easily arise of the Greek from a love affair with a biomite girl, whose family was free and distinguished. It had been easier for him to win her heart than he expected, yet at none of the meetings which she granted him had he rejoiced in the secret bond between them. Hitherto her austere reserve had been invincible, and during the greater part of their interviews he had been compelled to exert all his influence to soothe, appease her, and atone for imprudent acts which he had committed. True, she too had often allowed herself to display passionate tenderness, but always only to torture him with reproaches and demands inspired by her jealousy, suspicion, and wounded pride. Yet her beauty, and the strong power of resistance which she offered to his wooing, exerted so bewitching a thrall over him that he had been led into conceding far too much, and making vows which he could not, and did not, desire to fulfill. Love had usually been to him a richly flowing wellspring of gay delight, but this bond had plunged him from one vexation into another, one anxiety to another, and now that he had almost reached the goal of his wishes he could not help fearing that he had transformed Ledger's love to hate. Daphne was dear to him. He esteemed her highly, and owed her a great debt of gratitude. Yet in this hour he anathematized her unexpected journey to tennis, for without it he would have obtained from Ledger that very day what he desired, and could have returned to Alexandria with the certainty of finding her ready later to pose as the model for his arachne. Never could he find anywhere a more fitting one. He had devoted himself with passionate love to his art, and even his enemies numbered him among its most promising disciples. Yet hitherto he had not succeeded in obtaining a great and undisputed success. On the other hand he had experienced what were termed failures in abundant measure. The art to which he had gained entrance by so severe a struggle, and on whose soil he had laboured diligently enough, proved so far as outward recognition was concerned cruel to the enthusiastic disciple, yet even now he would not have abandoned it at any price. The joy of creation compensated him richly for suffering and disappointment. Confidence in his own powers and the final triumph of his conviction had deserted him only occasionally, and for a few brief hours. He was born for conflicts. What ill success! What antagonism and difficulties he had encountered! Someday the laurel which had so long adorned the brow of Mirtillus must also grow green for him and the great talent whose possession he felt. With the arachne he was sure of this. He would compel even his opponents to accord him the recognition for which hitherto he had striven in vain. While pacing restlessly up and down the spacious apartment, stopping from time to time before his work, to fix his eyes angrily upon it, he thought of his friend's Demeter whose head also had Daphne's features, who also bore in her hand a bundle of wheat, and even in attitude did not differ very widely from his own, and yet eternal gods, how thoroughly dissimilar the two were. In the figure created by Mirtillus, supernatural dignity blended with the utmost womanly charm. In his, a pleasing head rested upon a body in whose formation he had used various models, without striving to accomplish anything except to depart as far as possible from established custom, with which he was at variance. Yet had he not found himself nevertheless compelled to follow the old rules, one arm was raised, the other hung down, the right foot was put forward, the left one back, exactly the same as in Mirtillus's statue, and thousands of other figures of Demeter. If he could have used the hammer and chisel, the thing might have become more powerful, but how many things he had had to consider in employing the accursed gold and ivory upon which Archaus obstinately insisted. This hammering, chipping, and filing told unfavorably upon his power and his aspiration towards grandeur. This time the battle seemed to be lost. It was fortunate that the conqueror was no other than Mirtillus. Often as he had gone astray in his young life, many as were the errors he had committed, not even the faintest shadow of an envious feeling concerning his friend's more successful work had ever stained his soul. True, the fact that fate, in addition to such abundant gifts of mind and spirit, had also endowed the latter with great worldly possessions, while he but for the generosity of his uncle Archaus must have starved, had often led Hermon to invade angrily against the injustice of the gods. Yet he did not grudge Mirtillus the wealth without which he could not imagine him, and which his invalid friend needed to continue successfully the struggle against the insidious disease inherited with the gold. And his sufferings Hermon could not have endured keener pain had they been his own. He must even rejoice over the poor dear fellow's victory, for if he, Hermon, succeeded with his arachne as he hoped, it would make Mirtillus. He could swear it happier than his own triumph. After these reflections, which again reminded him of the second appointment and of ledger, the sculptor turned away from his work and went to the window to look across at Pelican Island, where she must not await him in vain. The boat which was to convey him over to it lay ready in the little flotilla, where a magnificently equipped galley had just been moored to the shore, undoubtedly the one that had brought the guests from Pelusium hither. The best thing he could do was to greet them at once, share the banquet with them, and, before the dessert was served, seek the beautiful woman whom his absence threatened to make his foe. And she was certainly justified in resenting it, if, with cruel lack of consideration, he paid no heed to what had been prophesied for her on this night of the full moon. For the first time compassion mingled with his feelings for ledger. If to avoid the fleeting censure of aristocratic friends, he left in the lurch the simple barbarian maiden who loved him with ardent passion. It was no evidence of resolute strength of soul, but of pitiful, reprehensible weakness. No, no, he must take the nocturnal voyage in order not to grieve ledger. Soon after the girl's abrupt departure, he dressed himself in festal garments for the banquet. It would flatter Ledger also if he went to her in this attire, and, with his figure drawn up to its full height, he walked towards the door to go to the Alexandrian's tent. But what did this mean? Myrtilus was standing before his Demeter, scanning it intently with his keen artist's eyes. Hermon had not noticed his entrance, and did not disturb him now, but fixed his gaze upon his mobile features in intense expectation. There were few of his fellow artists whose opinion he valued as highly as that of this darling of the muse. At a slight shake of the head, which Hermon interpreted as disapproval, he clenched his teeth.  For the sunny glance that Myrtilus bent upon the face of the goddess seems to show Hermon that it aroused his approval, and, as if relieved from an oppressive nightmare, he approached his friend. The latter turned towards him, exclaiming, Daphne, as in the case of Yonderbust, you have succeeded most perfectly with this dear face. Only, only, Hermon repeated slowly, I am familiar with that evil word. Doubts knock at the door with it. Out with them honestly, I gave up my last hope of the prize yesterday, while looking at your Demeter. Besides, careful scrutiny has just destroyed the last gleam of satisfaction with my own work. But if you like the head, what seems to you the greatest defects in the figure? It has nothing to do with defects, which, with your rare ability, can scarcely exist, replied the other, the faint pink flash in his beardless cheeks, deepening to a more vivid hue. It refers rather to the expression which you have given the divinity in Yonderstatue. Here Mirtilus hesitated, and turning so that he stood face to face with Hermon, asked frankly, Did you ever seek the goddess? And when you found her, did you feel any supernatural power and beauty? What a question, exclaimed Hermon in astonishment. A pupil of Stratton, and go in search of beings and powers whose existence he denies. What my mother instilled into my heart I lost with my childhood, and you address your question only to the artist who holds his own ground, not to the boy. The power that calls creation to life and maintains it has for me long had nothing in common with those beings like mortals, whom the multitude designates by the name of divinities. I think differently, replied Mirtilus, while I numbered myself among the Epicureans, whose doctrine still possesses the greatest charm for me. I nevertheless shared the master's opinion that it is insulting the gods to suppose that they will disturb their blissful repose, for the sake of us insignificant mortals. Now my mind and my experience rebel against holding to this view. Yet I believe with Epicurus and with you that the eternal laws of nature bow to neither divine nor human will. And yet, said Hermon, you expect me to trouble myself about those who are as powerless as myself? I only wished that you might do so, answered Mirtilus, for they are not powerless to those who, from the first, assumed that they can do nothing in opposition to those changeless laws. The state too rules according to them, and the wise king who refrains from interfering with them in the smallest trifle, can therefore wield the scepter with mighty power. So, in my opinion, it is perfectly allowable to expect aid from the gods. But we will let that pass. A healthy man, full of exuberant vigor like yourself, rarely learns early what they can bestow in suffering and misfortune. Yet, where the great majority believe in them, he too will be unable to help forming some idea of them. Now even you and I have experienced it. By a thousand phenomena, they force themselves into the world which surrounds us and our emotional life. Epicurus, who denied their power, saw in them at least immortal beings who possess in stainless perfection everything which in mortals is disfigured by errors, weaknesses and afflictions. To him they are the intensified reflected image of our own nature, and I think we can do nothing wiser than to cling to that, because it shows us to what heights of beauty and power, intellect, goodness and purity we may attain.  Since this is the case, it can only benefit you to recognize in them magnificent models by whose means we artists, if we imitate, perfect and model them, will create works far more sublime and beautiful than anything visible to our senses, which we meet here, beneath the sun. It is this very superiority and sublimity and beauty, which I and those who pursue the same path with me oppose, replied Herman. Nature is sufficient for us to take anything from her, mutilates, to add anything, disfigures her. But not, replied Mirtilus firmly, when it is done only in a special sense and within the limits of nature, to which the gods also belong. The final task of art, fiercely as you and your few followers contend against it, lies in the disentanglement, enhancing and ennobling of nature.  The rest, or I ought rather to say the alteration which converts the mortal woman into the immortal one, the goddess. I miss, and with special regret, because you do not even deem it worth consideration. That I shall never do, retorted Herman irritably, so long as it is a changing Chimera which presents itself differently to every mind. Yet, should it really be a Chimera? It is, at any rate, a sublime one, Mirtilus protested, and whoever among us artists wanders through nature with open eyes and heart, and then examines his own soul, will find it worthwhile to attempt to give his ideal form. Whatever stirs my breast during such walks, unless it is some unusual human being, I leave to the poet, replied Herman. I should be satisfied with the Demeter yonder, and you too, probably, if, entirely apart from that, I had only succeeded, fully and entirely, in making her an individual, that is, a clearly outlined, distinct personality. This, you have often told me, is just wherein I am usually most successful. But here, I admit, I am baffled. Demeter hovered before me as a kindly dispenser of good gifts, a faithful, loving wife. Daphne's head expresses this. But, in modelling the body, I lost sight of the whole creation. While, for instance, in my fig-eater, every toe, every scrap of the tattered garment belongs to the street-urchin, whom I wished to represent. In the goddess, everything came by chance, as the model suggested it, and you know that I used several. Had the Demeter from head to foot resemble to Daphne, who has so much in common with our goddess, the statue would have been harmonious, complete, and you would, perhaps, have been the first to acknowledge it. By no means, Mirtilus eagerly interrupted, what our statues of the gods are, we too, no best, a wooden block covered with gold and sheets of ivory. But to tens of thousands, the statue of the divinity must be much more. When they raise their hearts, eyes, hands to it in prayer, they must be possessed by the idea of the deity which animated us while creating it, and with which we, as it were, permeated it. If it shows them only if a woman endowed with praiseworthy qualities, then, interrupted Herman, the worshipper should thank the sculptor. For is it not more profitable to him to be encouraged by the statue to emulate the human virtues whose successful embodiment it shows him than to strive for the aid of the botchwork of human hands which possesses as much or as little power as the wood, gold and ivory that compose it? If the worshipper does not appeal to the statue but to the goddess, I fear it will be no less futile. So I shall consider it no blemish if you see in my Demeter a mortal woman, and no goddess. Nay, it reconciles me in some degree to her weaknesses to which I, by no means, close my eyes. I too, I confess it, often feel a great desire to give the power of imagination greater play, and I know the divinities in whom I have lost faith as well as any one, for I too was once a child, and few have ever prayed to them more fervently. But with the increasing impulse towards liberty came the perception there are no gods, and whoever bows to the power of the immortals makes himself a slave. So what I banished from life I will also remove from art, and model nothing which might not meet me today or tomorrow. Then, as an honest man, abstain altogether from making statues of the gods, interrupted his friend. That was my intention, long ago, as you are aware, the other answered. You could not commit a worse robbery upon yourself, cried Mirtillus. I know you. Nay, perhaps I see farther into your soul than you yourself. By ingenious fetters you force the mighty winged intellect to content itself within the narrow world of reality, but the time when you will yourself rend the bonds and find the divinity you have lost will come, and then with your mighty power once more free you will outstrip most of us, and me also, if I live to see it. Then he pressed his hand upon his rattling chest, and walked slowly to the couch. But Herman followed, helped him to lie down, and with affectionate solicitude arranged his pillows. It is nothing, Mirtillus said soothingly, after a few minutes' silence. My undermined strength has been heavily taxed today. The Olympians know how calmly I await death. It ends all things. Nothing will be left of me except the ashes, to which you will reduce my body, and what you call possession. But even this can no longer belong to me after death, because I shall then be no more, and the idea of possession requires a possessor. My estate, too, is now disposed of. I have just been to the notary, and sixteen witnesses neither more nor less have signed my will according to the custom of this ceremonious country.  Remember me to Daphne and the Pelucinians? I will join you in an hour. When the moon is over Pelican Island. How often Lechette repeated this sentence to herself, while Herman was detained by Daphne and her Pelucinian guests. When she entered the boat after nightfall, she exclaimed, hopefully, sure of her cause. When the moon is over Pelican Island, he will come. Her call was quickly reached in the skiff. The place selected for the nocturnal meeting was a familiar one to her. The pirates had remained absent from it quite two years. Formerly, they had often visited the spot to conceal their arms and booty on the densely wooded island. The large papyrus thicket on the shore also hid boats from spying eyes, and near the spot where Lechette landed was a grassy seat which looked like an ordinary resting place. But beneath it the corsairs had built a long walled passage that led to the other side of the island, and had enabled many fugitives to vanish from the side of pursuers as though the earth had swallowed them. When the moon is over the island, Lechette repeated after she had waited more than an hour. The time had not yet come. The expanse of water lay before her motionless. He knew a dull, leaven gray, and only dimly eliminated air and the glimmering gradients along the edges of the waves that watched the island show that moon was already brightening the night. When its full orb floated above the island Hermann, too would appear, and happiness which had been predicted to Lechette would begin. Happiness? A bitter smile hovered around her delicately cut lips as she repeated the word. Ederdo, no feeling was more distant from her. For when love and longing began to steer in her heart, it seemed as though an hideous spider was weaving its web about her, and vague fears, painful memories, and in their train fierce hate would force glad expectations into the shadow. Yet she earned with passionate fever to see Hermann again, and when he was once there, almost be well between them. The prediction of all taboos, who ruled as mistress over so many demons, could not deceive. After Lechette had so lately reminded lover, who so vehemently roused her jealous wrath, what this night of full moon meant to her, she could rely upon his appearance in spite of everything. Various matters undoubtedly held him firmly enough in tennis. She admitted this to herself after she grew calmer. But he had promised to come. He would surely enter the boat, and she would submit to share the night with the Helene. Her old being longed for the bliss awaiting her, and it could come from no one save the man whose lips would seek hers when the moon rose over the Pelican island. How chardily and sluggishly the cow-headed goddess who bore the silver ore between her organs rose to-night. How slowly the time passed, yet she did not move forward more certainly that the man whom Lechette expected must arrive. Of the possibility of this non-appearance she would not think. But when the fear that she was perhaps looking for him in vain assailed her, the blood crimsoned her face, as if she felt shame of a humiliating insult. Yet why should she make the period of waiting more torturing than it was already? Surely he must come. Sometimes she rested on the grassy seat and gazed across the dull grey surface of the water into the distance. Sometimes she walked to and fro, stopping at every turn to look across the tannies and bright torches and lights which rounded the eccentrics' tent. So one quarter of an island after another passed away. A light rose, and gradually the tops of the roaches began to shine, and the leafage before, besides, and above her took glitter into silvery light. The water was no longer calm, but forward by countless little ripples, on whose crests the ray from above played, sparkling and flashing restlessly. A wave of shimmering silvery radiance covered the edges of every island, and suddenly the brilliant full moon was reflected in urgent lustre, like a magnificent, crevary column up on the surface of the water, now rippled by the evening breeze. The time during which Lechette could repeat, when the moon is over Pelican Island, was passed, already its course had led it beyond. The island lay behind it, and it continued its pilgrimage before the young girl's eyes. The glittering column of light upon the water proved that she was not mistaken. The time which she had appointed for Irmond had already expired. The moon in calm majesty sailed forward and forward onward in its course, and with it, minute after minute elapsed, until they became a half hour, then a whole one. How long is it since the moon was over Pelican Island? Was a question which now pressed itself upon her again and again, and to which she found an answer, at every glance upward, for she had learned to estimate time by the position of the stars. Rarely was the silence of the night interrupted by the call of a human being, or the barking of a dog from the city, or even the hooting of an owl at a still greater distance. But farther the moon moved on above her, the future grew the uproaring, Lechette's proud, cruelly wronged soul. She felt offended, scorn, insulted, and at the same time defrauded of the happiness which this night had full moon contained for her. Or have women who promised happiness meant something else in their predictions than Irmond's love? Was she to hold the bliss they had foretold to hate and pitiless retribution? When the midnight hour had nearly arrived, she prepared to depart, but after she had already set her foot on the edge of the boat, she returned to the grassy sea. She would wait a little longer yet. Then there would be nothing which could give Irmond a right to consideration. Then she might lay loose upon him the avenging powers at her command. Lechette again gazed over the calm landscape, but in the wild chill of her heart she no longer distinguished the tales upon which her eyes rested. Doubtless, she saw the light smiths hovering like ghosts, or the restless shade of the unburied death over the shining space before her, and filming vapors that veiled the brightness of the stars, but she had ceased to question the heavenly bodies about the time. What did she care for the progress of the hours, since the constellation of Charles Wayne showed her that it was past midnight? The moon no longer stood forth in sharp outlines against the deep, hazy, revolted sky, but, robbed of its radiance, floated in a circle of deeply eliminated mists. Not only the feeling which stirred Lechette's soul, but seen around her had gained a totally different aspect. Since every hope of the happiness awaiting her was destroyed, she no longer sought to palliate the wrongs of Irmond and inflicted upon her. While dwelling on them, she by no means forgot the trivial purpose for which the artist intended to use her charms, and when she again gazed up at the slightly clouded sky, the shrouded moon no longer reminded her of silver or between the horns of a star. She did not ask herself how the transformation had occurred, but in its place, high above her head, hung a huge gray spider. Its gigantic limbs extended over the whole firmament and seemed striving to clutch and stifle the world beneath. The enormous master was weaving its gray net over tennis, and all the islands in the water, the pelican island, uncear herself up in a seat of turf, and held them all prisoner in it.  A sail by ancient spears, let's just start it up, and a few seconds later was herging her boat with steady strokes to the owl's nest. Even now lights were still shining from the Alexandria stand through the sultry veiled night. There seemed to be no waking life on the pirate's island. Even old taboos had probably put out the fire and gone to sleep, but deathlike silence and deep darkness surrounded it. Head Hanno, who agreed to meet her here after midnight, also failed to come. Head Pirate learned like the Greek to break his promise. Only half conscious of what she was doing, she left the boat. With her slender foot that scarcely touched the land, when the tall figure emerged from the thicket near shore and approached her through the darkness. Hanno, she exclaimed, at least relieved from a burden, and the young pirate repeated, Hanno, as his name was a watchword of night. Her own name, uttered in a tone of interest yearning, followed. Not another syllable accompanied it, but the expression with which it fell up on her ear revealed so plainly that the young pirate felt for, and expected from her, that, in spite of the darkness which concealed her, she felt her face flush. Then he tried to clasp her hand, and she dared not withdraw it from the man whom she had chosen for her tool. So she unresistingly permitted him to hold her right hand, while he whispered his desire to take the place of the fallen Abbas and make her his wife. Lecce, in hurried and bare stones, answered that she appreciated the honor of his suit, but before she gave full consensus, she must discuss an important matter with him. Then Hanno begged her to go out on the water. His father and his brother Lobadja were sitting in the house by the fire with his grandmother. They had learned, in following the trade of piracy, to hide the glimmer of lights. The old people had approved this choice, but the conversation in the dwelling would soon be over, and then the opportunity of seeing each other alone would be at an end. Without uttering a word in reply, Lecce stepped back into the boat, but Hanno plied the oars with utmost caution and guided the skiff without slight sound away from the island to an open part of the water, far distance from any shore. Here she took in the oars and asked her to speak. They had no cause to fear being over her, for surrounding mists barely subdued the light of the full moon, and no other boat could have approached them and observed. The few night birds, sweeping swiftly on their strong minions from one island to another, flew past them like fleeting shadows. One hawk only, in search of nocturnal booty, circled around the motionless skiff. And sometimes, with expanded wings, swooped down close to the couple who were talking together so eagerly. But both spoke so low that it could have been impossible, even for the bird's keen earring, to follow the curse of their consultation. Merely a few louder words and explanations reached the hate where it hovered. The young pirate himself was obliged to listen with the most strained attention, while Lecce, in low whispered, accused the Greek sculpture of having basically wronged and deceived her. But the curse with which Hannah received this acknowledgement reached even the bird circling around the boat. And it seemed, as if it wished to express its approval to the corsair, for this time its fierce croak, as it suddenly swooped down to the surface of the water behind the boat, sounded truly should silent night. But it soon soared again, and now, Lecce's declaration that she would become Hannah's bride, only on condition that he would aid her to punish the elenic trader also reached him. Then came the words, valuable booty, slight risk, thanks and reward. The curse with predelusion to two colossal statues, made of pure golden, genuine ivory, was followed by a laugh of the grievous meaning from the pirate. At last he raised his deep voice to ask whether Lecce, if the venture in which he would willing risk his life for successful, would accompany him on the board of the Hydra, the good cheap whose command his father entrusted to him. The firm yes, with which she answered, as her dignite exclamation as she repulsed Hannah's premature attempt at tenderness, might have been heard by the oak even at a greater distance. Then the pirate's promise bribed, lured her voice again, and did not raise her tones until she saw in imagination the fulfillment of the judgment which she was calling down upon the man who had turned her heart with such pitiless cruelty. Was this the happiness predicted for her on night of the full moon? It might be, and, radiant with secret joy, her eyes sparkling and her bosom heaving as if her foot was already on the breast of falling foe, she assured Hannah that the golden ivory should belong to him and to him alone. But not until he had delivered the base straighter to her alive, and left his punishment in her hands, would she be ready to go with him wherever he wished, not until then and not one moment earlier. The pirate, with a proud, out-captured hymn, consented to this condition, but Lecce, in her words, now described how she had planned the attack, while the cruser, at her bidding, applied the oar so as to bring the boat nearer to the scene of the assault. The vouchers followed the skiff, but when it stopped opposite to the large white building, one side of which was washed by the waves, Lecce pointed to the windows of Herman's studio, exclaiming hosly to the young pirate. You will see him there, the Greek with long, soft black beard, and slender figure, I mean.  Just at that instant, the bird of prey, with a shrill, greedy cry, as if it were invited with Lecce's banquet, flew far away into the distance and did not return. It flew toward the left, the girl noticed this, and her heavy black eyebrows, which already met, contracted still more. The direction taken by the bird, which soon vanished in the darkness of the night, indicated approaching misfortune. But she was here only to sow destruction, and the more terrible growth it attained, it better. With an acuteness which aroused the admiration of the young Corsair, who was trained to singler plots, she explained hers. That they must wait until after the departure at the Alexandria, with her numerous train, and for the first dark night was a matter of course. One signal was to notify Hanno to hold himself in readiness, another to inform him that everyone in the White House had gone to rest, and that Herman was there too. The pirates were to enter the black-bearded Greek studio. While some were shattering statues to carry away in stacks the golden ivory, which they contained, others were to force their way into a worthless workroom, which was on the opposite side of the house. There they would find the second statue. But this they must spare, because on account of the great fame of its creator, it was more valuable than the other. The fair-haired artist was ill, and it would be no difficult matter to take him alive, even if he should put himself on the defensive. Herman, on the contrary, was a strong fellow, and to bind him without injuring him severely would require both strength and skill. Yet it must be done, for only in case Hanno succeeded in delivering both sculptures to her alive, would she consider herself? She could not repeat it often enough, bound to fulfill what you had promised him. With the exception of the two artists, all immature servants, the old doorkeeper, and Beas, Herman's slave, remained during the night in the house, which was to be attacked, and Hanno would undertake the assault with twenty-five sturdy fellows, whom he commanded on the idra if his brother Lobacca consented to share in the assault. This force could be considerably increased. To take the old corsair into their confidence now would not be advisable, for, on account of his mother's near presence, he would scarcely consent to enter into the peril. Should the venture fail, everything would be over. But if it succeeded, the old man could only praise the courage and skill with which it had been executed. Nothing was to be feared from the Coast Guard, for, since Abbas's death, the authorities believed that piracy had vanished from these waters, and the ships commanded by Satebus and his sons had been admitted from Pontus into its tainted armoured denial as trading vessels. While Hanno was discussing these considerations, he wrote about the best landing place from which the garden, with the Alexandrian stand, could be seen. The third hour after midnight had begun. Smoking flames were still rising from pitch pants and blazing torches, and long rows of lanterns also eliminated the broad space. It was as light as day in the vicinity of the tent, and being made huntsmen and traitors, were moving to and fro among slaves and attendants as though it was market time. Your father too, Hanno remarks in his awkward fashion, will scarcely make life hard for us. We shall probably find him in Pontus. He is getting a cargo of wood for Egypt there. We have had dealings with him a long time. He thought highly of Abbas, and I too, have already been useful to him. There were handsome young fellows on the Pontine coast, and we captured them. At peril of our lives we took them to the mart. He may even risk it in Alexandria. So the old man makes over to him a large number of these youths, and often a girl into the bargain, and he does it far too cheaply. One might invite a prophet if it were not your father. When you are once my wife, I'll make a special contract with him about the slaves. And, besides, since last great capture in which the old man allowed me a share of my own, I too need not complain of poverty. I shall be ready for the dowry. Do you want to know what you are worth to me? That Lesha's attention was attracted by other things, and even after Hanno, with proud conceit, repeated his momentum's question, he waited in vain for reply. Then he perceived that the girl was gazing at presently lighted square as if spelled bound, and now he himself saw before the tent a shed with a canopyed roof, and beneath it cajant cautious. Onward several Greeks, men and women, were half-sitting, half-flying, watching with eager attention the spectacle which a slendery young Hellenic woman was presenting to them. The tall man with magnificent black beard, who seemed farly devouring her with his eyes, must be the sculpture whom Lesha commanded him to capture. To the rude pirate, the Greek girl, who in a light half-transparent bombish robe was exhibiting herself to the eyes of the man upon a pedestal-draptured cloth, seemed bold and shameless. Behind her stood two female tenants, holding soft white garments ready, and a handsome, pontine boy with black, waving logs, who gazed up at her waiting for her signs. Nearer, Lesha ordered a pirate in a stifled voice, and he wrote the poet noiselessly under the shadow of a willow and a bank. But Skiff had scarcely been brought to a stop there when an elderly matron, who shared the couch of an old Macedonian man of a distinguished soldierly appearance called the name Neoby. The ellen on the pedestal took a cloth from the hand of one of the female tenants, and back unto the boy, who obediently drew through his girdle the short blue sheeted, which hang only to his knees, and sprung up on the platform. There the Greek girl manipulated in some way dress dresses piled high up on her head, and confined above the brow by a costly cold diadem, flung the white linen fabric, which the young slave handed to her over her head, wound her arm around shoulders to a dreading-locked boy, and drew him toward her with passionate tenderness. At same time, she raised the end of the linen drapery with her left hand, spreading it over him like a projecting canopy. The mobile features, which had just smiled serediently, expressed mortal terror, and the pirate, to whom even the name Neoby was unfamiliar, looked around him for the terrible danger threatening the innocent child, from which the woman on the pedestal was protecting it with loving devotion. The mortal terror, as a mother wrought by a higher power of her child, could scarcely be more vividly depicted, and yet Auti defines hovered around her slightly pouting lips. The uplifted hand seemed not only anxiously to defend, but also to defy an invisible foe with powerless anger. The pirate's eyes rested on this spectacle as if spellbound, and the man who, in Pontus, had dragged hundreds of young creatures, boys and girls, on its ship to sell them into slavery, never thinking of the tears which he thereby caused in huts and mansions, clinched his rough hand to attack the base wretch who was robbing the poor mother of her lovely darling. But just as Hannah was rising to look around him for the invisible evildoer, blood shouts as many voices startled him. He clasped toward the pedestal. But now, instead of the hapless mother, he found there the bold woman whom he had previously seen, as radiant as if some great piece of good fortune had befallen her, bowing and waving her hand to the other Greeks, worth thanking her with loud applause. The sorely threatened boy, bowing merrily, sprang to the ground, but Hannah put his hand on Ledger's arm and in great perplexity whispered, What did that mean? Hush! said the girl softly, stretching her slender neck toward the illuminated square, for the performant had remained standing up on the pedestal.  Even the bayonet's keen ear could not catch the reply, and the purport of the rapid conversation which followed. But she guessed the point in question, when the young men who were present rose hastily, rushed toward the pedestal, loosened the reds from their heads, and offered them to the Greek girl, whom Crisilla had just called beautiful Althea. Four Hellenic officers, in strong military force under Philippus, the commandant of the key of Egypt, as Pelusium was justly called, had accompanied the old Macedonian general to visit his friend Archius' daughter at Tennis. But Althea rejected their garlands with an explanation which seemed to satisfy them. Let you could not hear what she said, but when only Hermon and Mortilus still stood with their reds the flowers opposite the beautiful Althea, and she clasped hesitantly from one to the other, as if she found the choice difficult, and then withdrew from her finger a sparkling ring, the bayonet detected the swift look of understanding which Hermon exchanged with her. The girl's heart began to throb faster, and, with the keen premonition of a jealous soul, she recognized in Althea her rival and foe. Now there was no doubt about it. Now, as the actress, skilled in every will, he in the hand holding the ring, as well as the other empty one, behind her back, she would know how to manage so that she could use the garland which Hermon handed her. Let's just forebonding was instantly fulfilled, for when Althea held out her little tightly clenched fist to the artist and asked Mortilus to choose the hand to which he pointed, and she then opened was empty, and she took from the other the ring, which she displayed with well-fandric red to spectators. Then Hermon knelt before her, and, as he hoffered Althea's wrath, his dark eyes gazed so urgently into the blue ones of the red-haired Greek-like Queen Arsinoe, she was of thread in the sand, that Pletcha was now positively certain she knew for whose sake her lover had so basely betrayed her. How she hated this bold woman! Yet she was forced to keep quiet, and pressed her lips tightly together as Althea seized white sheet and with marvelous celerity wound it about her until it fell in exquisite faults like a long grove. Surprise, curiosity, and the pleasant sense of satisfaction in seeing what seemed to her a shamelessly display which run from her lover's eyes rendered it easier for Pletcha to maintain her composure. Yet she felt blood throbbing in her temples, as Hermon remained kneeling before the Elen, gazing intently into her expressive face. Was it not too narrow wholly to please the man who had known how to praise her own beauty so passionately? Did not the outlines of Althea's figure which the bombics' robe only partially concealed, lack rawness even more than her own? And yet, as soon as Althea had transformed the sheet into a robe and held the wrath above him, Hermon's gaze rested on hers as the wind raptured, while from her bright blue eyes a flute of ardent admiration poured up in the man for whom she held Victor's wrath. This was done with the upper portion of her body bending very far forward. The slender figure was poised on one foot, the other covered to the ankle with long robe, hovered in the air. Had not the wings which, as Nike, belonged to her being lacking, everyone would have been convinced that she was flying, that she had just descended from the heights of Olympus to crown the kneeling Victor, not only her hand, her gaze, and her every feature awarded the price to the man at her feet. There was no doubt that, if Nike herself came to the earth to make the best man happy with noblest of crowns, the spectacle would be a similar one. And Hermon, no carlanded Victor could look up to the gracious divinity more joylessly, more completely enthralled by grateful rapture. The applause which now rang out more and more loudly was certainly not undeserved, but it pierced Letcher's soul like a mockery, like the bitterest scorn. Hanno, on the contrary, seemed to consider the scene scarcely worth looking at. Something more powerful was required to stir him. It was particularly averse to all exhibitions. The utmost, which his relatives could induce to quiet, resumed men to do when they ventured into the great seaports was to tend animal fights in the games of the athletes. He felt thoroughly happy only when at sea, on board of his good ship. His best pleasure was to gaze up at stars on calm nights, guide the helm, and meanwhile dream. Of late, most glad, he of making the beautiful girl who would seem to him worthy of his brave brother Abus, his own wife. In secluded monogamy of his life, as a scar over memory had exalted Letcher into the most desirable women, and slaughtered Abus into the greatest of heroes. To win the love of this much-praised maiden seemed to Hanno peerless happiness, and young Corsair felt that he was worthy of it. For on the ice-heath, when a superior foe was to be opposed by force and strategy, when a ship was to be boarded and death-thread over a deck, he had proved himself a man of unflinching courage. A suit had progressed more easily than he expected. His father would rejoice, and his heart exalted at the thought of encountering a serious peril for the girl he loved. His old existence was a venture of life, and, as he tended to lose, they would not have been too dear a price to him to enledge them. While Althea, as the goddess of victory, held Rathal off, and loud applause hailed her, Hanno was thinking of the treasures which he had cornered since his father had allowed him a share of the booty and of the future. When he had accumulated ten talents of gold, he would give up piracy, like avos, and carry on his own ships wood and slaves from Pontus to Egypt, and textiles from tennis, arms, and other manufactured articles from Alexandria to the Pontine cities. In this way, Lettso's father had become a rich man, and he was also not for his own sake. He needed little, but to make life sweet for his wife, surround her with splendor and luxury, and to turn her beautiful person with costly jewels. Many stolen ornaments was already lying in the safe-hitting place that even his brother Lobadja did not know. At last, Shouts died away, and, as the stopping of the clattering wheel wakes the miller, saw the stillness of the sure Rathal's Hanno from his dream. What was it that Lettso saw there so fascinating that it not even here is local? His father and Lobadja have undoubtedly left his grandmother's house long ago, and were looking for him in vain. Yes, he was right. The old parrot's shrill whistled Richie's ear from the owl's nest, and he was accustomed to obedience. So, lightly touching Lettso on the shoulder, he whispered that he must return to the island at once. His father would be rejoiced if she went with him. Tomorrow, she answered in a tone of resolute denial. Then, reminding him once more the meaning of the signals she had promised to give, she whipped her hands to him, sprang swiftly past him to the pro of the boat, caught an overhanging bout of the wheel on the shore, and, as she had learned during the games of her childhood, swung herself as lightly as a bird into thicket at the water's edge, which concealed her from every eye.