CHAPTER IV
A SON OF ALARIC
The sun was pouring down its dazzling rays on rocks and sand, and on the expanse of intensely blue sea. There was nothing to relieve the eye except a line of white huts, and at some distance a grove of date–palms surrounding a well. One small vessel was at anchor. This was Myos Hormos on the Red Sea. Coelred and Porlor reclined in a shed roofed with palm leaves, near the well, while Athanagild and the Goths, drowsy with the heat, were lying about under the trees. Mounted on camels, and guided by a servant of Monas, they had crossed the desert during the nights, and had arrived on the seventh day at dawn. They now waited for the coming of Monas from the town. The boys were much changed in appearance. Their faces were bronzed by the sun, their hair close cut, and large white turbans were wound round their heads. They were dressed in white, and were armed with swords, daggers, and spears. A chatty of fresh water and a little heap of parched corn on a cloth were between them.
Coelred's eyes were closed. He opened them drowsily and said, "With my eyes shut, and the sun making the darkness almost light, I fancy that I am lying on the grass, by the brook at Stillingfleet, and almost hear the voices of Bergliot and Braga, and the barking of dear old Shuprak at the top of the hill." Porlor looked at his brother, whose eyes were filling with tears, and lovingly stroked his cheek. "My thoughts and dreams are ever with our loved ones, like yours, dear Coelred. But we must keep wide awake for the next few days," and he shook his brother by the shoulder. "We have seen enough of our companions to make that quite clear." In a very low voice Coelred said, "What think you of Athanagild?" "The Gothic Prince," replied Porlor, in a whisper, "is a brave and true warrior, and will keep his word with us, I am sure. But he is not gifted with patience or judgment, and he has embarked on an enterprise which requires both. He acts on sudden impulses, strikes before hearing a word, and his Goths follow and obey blindly. There is much to arrange now that needs forethought and care, and I feel that, although we are so many years younger, the success of this voyage will depend upon our conduct, and upon the character of the captain and pilot of whom we know nothing. In truth we have had several affrays since we landed in Egypt, and have escaped death or imprisonment mainly by good fortune, and all have been due to the quick temper of our chief." "We cannot always guide our own thoughts and actions," mused Coelred, "how much less those of our companions. So we must often leave all to chance; yet there are those who take all these things into account, weigh them, and give each its just value, and who can then offer sage counsel; and you are one, my Porlor." "I do try hard to think out the points on which our lives and fortunes depend," said the younger boy; "and truly I do so because one who is dearer to me than my own life shares my fate." They both sat up and wound their arms round each other in a brotherly embrace. As they did so they became aware of people approaching the palm grove, whose figures stood out clear against the sky. The party consisted of an erect old man with a white beard, and some black servants. "If I mistake not, this is the pilot and guide of whom we know nothing, and concerning whom it imports us much to know a great deal," said Porlor. At the same moment Coelred cried out—"Prince Athanagild, a visitor approaches."
COELRED AND PORLOR IN EGYPT
The Prince and his Goths sprang to their feet as the old man came under the shade of the trees and made a low obeisance. He introduced himself as the pilot and master who had undertaken to supply the vessel, load her with a suitable cargo, and convey the Prince to India. Funds had been duly received through the Imperial physician Alexander, and such merchandise had been purchased as there would be a demand for at the Indian port, and had been conveyed across the desert. The vessel was built at Adulis, and was owned by Monas. "Good," said the Prince; "we will sail to–day." "That cannot be," objected the old man, "for the ship is not ready and the cargo is not on board." "How long will be the delay?" "A week at least," was the answer, "and I have a long report to make." "I cannot rest here, and I cannot listen, old man. I must be at work. Action, not words, for me. I and my followers will hunt out these Arabs of the desert of whom I hear, and try their mettle while you make the ship ready." Monas protested, and explained the extreme danger of such a proceeding. "In ordinary times," he said, "there is nothing to plunder at Myos Hormos. But if the news gets abroad that a ship is loading or unloading, then indeed are the vultures gathered together. Clouds of Arabs cover the sands, and pounce down if the merchants have not sufficient force to resist them. I believe that our secret is well kept, yet the sight of you and your followers careering over the desert will at once bring the marauders about our ears." But the Prince would not listen to reason. He caused his led horses to be saddled, and his camels to be loaded with food and water, and set out with his Goths in the afternoon in search of adventures. His last words to Monas were—"These Counts" (Comites), pointing to Coelred and Porlor, "are my lieutenants, and will act for me. Their wishes are my wishes, their orders my orders." So saying, this knight–errant rode away.
Monas held up his hands with astonishment at such madness. He turned round to look at the lieutenants, and saw a boy of fifteen and another of thirteen; well grown and intelligent, no doubt, and one struck him as possessing sagacity above his years, but both very young. "Counts!" he said aloud; but to himself, "Lieutenants! The Holy Saints protect us!" and he again held up his hands, with a half–despairing gesture.
This conversation had been carried on in Greek. The boys came forward, and Porlor requested the old man to make his report, and enable them to enter upon the duties with which their friend Athanagild had entrusted them. They did this with such a quiet assumption of command, and with such combined dignity and courtesy, that Monas almost ceased to feel the incongruity of such very juvenile Counts taking the command of the enterprise, and at once entered upon his explanations and reports, with which he had come for submission to Athanagild.
Monas, in early life, had been a companion of the better–known merchant and monk Cosmas in his daring voyages. A native of Egypt, of Greek descent, his quick wit and readiness of resource had enabled him to establish commercial intercourse between ports of the Red Sea and of the west coast of India, after his master Cosmas had retired into monkish seclusion. He had acted as interpreter, when quite a young man, to the Indian embassy which brought a present of an elephant to the Emperor Justinian in 552, and he had since made several voyages to India. When the imperial physician applied to his ancient friend Cosmas, on the subject of the wish of the Gothic Prince to make a voyage to India, and forwarded a supply of money, the matter was placed in the hands of Monas. For Cosmas had quite retired from worldly concerns, though the famous geographer still survived, in a cell situated in a secluded oasis near Myos Hormos. Although the disciple was also contemplating a retirement to a monastic cell in imitation of his master, he consented to undertake one more voyage. He owned more than one vessel at Adulis, and the most seaworthy was brought up to Myos Hormos, while the articles well known to Monas as finding a ready sale in the Indian ports were purchased in the markets of Alexandria, sent up the Nile to Thebes, and conveyed across the desert with as little delay as possible, in the hope that the Arab marauders would not hear that a ship was being loaded at the deserted port of Myos Hormos.
When Coelred and Porlor walked down to the beach, they found the ruins of a considerable town, and three or four sheds consisting of stone walls with roofs of palm leaves. The small cargo was stored in them, and the crew of tall blacks was loading a boat with bales. The boys, accompanied by Monas, went on board the vessel with the first load, and found her to be a craft the like of which they had never before seen. She had a half–deck and a small cabin. Her build was like that of the pathamars on the Malabar coast, the planks being neatly secured to each other with knotted ropes, and she had two masts with lateen sails. Water was stored in large chatties carefully lashed to the ship's side, and the food, all bread and vegetables, was in sacks. The boys inquired whether there was any danger of an attack from Arabs, and Monas said that he hoped the wild young Prince would return the next evening at latest, in which case he was not likely to have encountered Arabs, and the risk would be averted.
Monas further said that it was necessary that the young Counts, as he called the boys, should visit the great navigator and geographer in his seclusion; and it was agreed that they should travel during the night. A short refreshing sleep was followed by a bathe in the sea when the sun set. Coelred, Porlor, and Monas then mounted their camels and proceeded over the desert in a south–westerly direction. After travelling for several hours, at dawn they came to a small grove of date–palms, where a stone cell of some size had been built, with a few sheds round it. This was the place to which Cosmas had retired to end his days.
On entering the grove, the visitors found a man in extreme old age, seated outside his cell almost in a state of coma. He had a long white beard, and must have been upwards of ninety years old. When Monas told him that his visitors were the adventurers who wished to undertake a voyage to India, he aroused himself. "They must consult me first," he said in a feeble but clear voice. "They must rest here and listen to what I can tell them. I am Cosmas," he continued, addressing the boys, "and my title is Indicopleustes, for I sailed to India. Give them food, and let them sit and listen to my words." Dates were set before them by a servant, and the garrulous old man continued to relate the story of his life. "I have been, in the years long gone by, a merchant who navigated the Erythraean Sea, and reached the distant ports of India. I knew the seasons, and taught Monas when the winds blew which would take us to India, and when he must spread his sails to return. It is said that Hippalus, in the days of Claudius the Emperor, first discovered the constancy of the winds in their seasons. It is true. But the credit is mine of making this knowledge useful to the world. Now the rich products of India are sold in markets within the dominions of our Emperor. This is due to me. I know all the emporia and how to reach them. I was impelled by the desire of knowledge more than by gain, though there was gain. I discovered the royal seat of white marble at Adulis. It is consecrated to Ares. There are images of Heracles and Hermes sculptured on it, and Greek letters are written on every side. Monas helped me to copy the inscription, which was caused to be put there by the great King Ptolemy Euergetes. It is all in my second book. You have read my great work?" he asked. The boys answered that they could not read. "You must learn," he went on. "It is necessary that you should read my great work. It is in twelve books, and is entitled Christian Topography. When my career was finished as a merchant going to and fro, I devoted myself to God and became a monk. Then I wrote my great book. In it I have confuted Ptolemy and all the Pagans. I have proved that the earth is a flat surface. It is an oblong plain twice as long from east to west as from north to south, and the holy city of Jerusalem is in the centre. The whole is enclosed by an ocean. I have proved it by arguments from Scripture, from the Fathers, from testimony, and from reason. There are many copies of my great work in the monasteries, in libraries, and in palaces. The Pagans are confuted." Porlor said that he would be glad if the holy monk would tell them about the voyage to India. "I am waiting for God to call me to begin a longer voyage," was the answer. "Monas knows all. I taught him." Cosmas had tired himself, and began to doze. The old man was not long for this world. He had done his work, which was to throw back science for centuries. The interview with old Cosmas Indicopleustes then came to an end, and the boys took their leave. They reached Myos Hormos a little after sunset, and were disappointed to hear that there was no news of Athanagild.
During the next few days the loading continued, but there was no sign of the Prince. At last he appeared alone, and wounded. He had had his wish. He had come upon a large party of Arabs near a well in the desert, and at once attacked them. All his Goths were killed, and he received a spear–thrust, but the Arabs had not known the extent of the losses they had inflicted, and retreated under cover of the night. He thought, however, that he had been followed by one or two horsemen, perhaps more, and he knew not whither he was going, but his horse had brought him back to the port. He was faint from loss of blood. Monas declared that they would be attacked before morning, and he took the Prince on board the vessel to examine his wound.
Coelred and Porlor, after a consultation, made the black sailors build a sort of sconce or small fort with some of the remaining bales and other materials, with an angle pointing landwards, and the two ends resting on the sea when it was high tide. They also dug a trench outside in the sand, into which the water flowed. The remaining merchandise was brought inside this extemporary intrenchment, and the loading proceeded through the night. It was calm and the moon was up. A little before dawn Coelred, who was on the watch, thought he saw dark figures cautiously creeping round the huts. The boat happened to be alongside the vessel, and there were only a few men and Porlor on shore. Coelred aroused them, and they all stood to their arms, when a sudden rush was made by a number of Arabs. The two boys stood side by side at the angle, with the sailors supporting them. Luckily it was high tide. There was a desperate struggle for the fort. The foremost assailants were hurled back by the young Englishmen with their spears. The brothers then drew their swords and began an unequal fight, supported by their men, who behaved well. More of the enemy came to the attack from behind the huts, and began to scale the enclosure. All would have been lost if, at that moment, the boat had not touched the sand. The boys retreated fighting, and were seized by their own people as the boat was shoved off. The marauders secured a small portion of the cargo, with the loss of several of their number. Two of the crew were also killed. As soon as Coelred and Porlor were on board, Monas weighed and made sail before a light northerly breeze.
The Prince's wound proved to be mortal. The loss of blood had been great, there was much exhaustion, and inflammation set in. The boys nursed him tenderly. On the third day he felt that his end was near. Porlor was supporting him, while Coelred held a cool bandage on his forehead. Monas had some skill, but the case was beyond human aid. He stood looking down on the little scene, amazed at the madness which had led to such consequences. "Farewell, my friends," said the Prince; "my folly nearly ended your lives as well as my own. You have become dear to me. I hoped that you would have been my companions in arms, and that we might have carved out an empire together. I saw that you were true and brave, worthy to be the comrades of one who is of the blood of Alaric." He paused, and his voice became weaker. He finished what he wished to say with difficulty. "I was driven from my country. Like you, I desired to return. One pleasure is left me. I can give you the means of going home." He looked at Coelred, whose cool hand, damped with water from a chatty, was on his forehead. "Take off my belt," he said. The boy hesitated. "Take it. I would see it round your waist." Coelred gently unfastened the embroidered leathern belt, which was heavy, and did with it as the dying man had told him. Athanagild smiled as if contented. "Old man," he said, with difficulty turning to Monas, "thou art my witness that I leave all I possess to my young Counts. I charge thee to safeguard them." He closed his eyes as Monas bowed low before him in token of assent. After a long pause the Prince touched the belt and said, in his corrupt Greek, "I there place the treasure close packed in secrecy. Farewell." (Ufaireo dia malki tote.) These were his last words. The boys never forgot them, and ever afterwards used the first word, which they pronounced "uvaru" for a secret hiding–place. Athanagild did not speak again, and passed away during the night.
The moon was shining brightly, and bathing the calm expanse of water with a silvery light, when the old man and the two young boys, with tears in their eyes, committed the remains of this impulsive and generous son of Alaric to the deep.
CHAPTER V
UJJAYANI
The sea was like molten silver. The burning sun blazed pitilessly down on the little vessel, which was motionless. The northerly breeze reckoned upon by Monas had failed him. They had been becalmed for days, and the water was running short. All day the boys were stretched out under a rough awning of palm leaves, panting for breath. The sky was like a dome of burnished steel. One night Porlor watched the northern horizon, and saw a bank of clouds rising, which he pointed out to the old pilot and to his brother. Soon cat's–paws were seen along the surface of the sea. Monas said there would be a breeze in the morning. But their water would not last them, unless they replenished at some well on the Arabian coast; yet this was a very perilous proceeding, for the eastern side of the Red Sea was infested by savage robbers. There was, however, no alternative, and as soon as the breeze filled his sails, Monas steered for a port called Jidda, 320 miles south of Myos Hormos. They came to off a grove of palm trees, which denoted the presence of wells, on a bright moonlight night. A short distance to the south there were a few scattered huts. When dawn broke they could see that the wells were in possession of armed men. Monas feared to land, but the boys declared they would die fighting rather than die of thirst. Well armed, and accompanied by half a dozen of the crew, Coelred and Porlor took the boat, landed, and boldly advanced towards the wells. They were met half–way by a solitary Arab, who stood in the path uttering the word "Bismillah." He was a powerful young man, about five years older than Coelred, in a long camel's–hair cloth, with the hood secured round his head by a green band. His complexion was bronzed, nose aquiline, lips rather thick, and he had piercing black eyes. He held a long spear in his right hand. Coelred said in Greek that they must have water. The young Arab replied in the same language that the wells were in his possession. He said that he was Muhammad, the son of Abdallah, servant of Abu Taleb, one of the chiefs of the Koraish of Mekka. He was commanding an expedition against the robbers who attacked the caravans of Mekka, and had defeated them and driven them from the wells of Jidda. They should have water if they paid for it—let the master of the ship come to him. Coelred sent the boat back for old Monas, and the English lads stood facing the Arab youth, all leaning on their spears. Few more words passed between them. The Arab gazed at the young Englishmen with unconcealed admiration, and the lads scanned the features of the strange being before them with feelings of curiosity and interest which they could not have explained. Monas was very agreeably surprised to find a law–maintaining force at the wells, instead of the cut–throats he expected. It was soon arranged that the vessel should be watered and replenished with some provisions, in exchange for six bales of cloth. This occupied the rest of the day. Young Muhammad and the English lads rested under the shade. The Arab's knowledge of Greek merely enabled him to strike bargains, and he could not converse, so that the time was passed, for the most part, in friendly silence. The undefinable feeling of interest which took possession of the boys when they first encountered this extraordinary man was increased as they sat near him. The expression of his countenance changed frequently, but was always remarkable. His eyes were bright and eager while he bargained with Monas; they had a soft and gentle look when they rested on the truthful faces of his companions; then again they once or twice flashed a look of fierce anger, apparently without cause. But what the boys noticed with most interest was that far–away, abstracted look which came into the Arab's eyes as he rested under the trees, as if he saw things invisible to all besides himself; and when this strange look came it lasted long. They had seen something like it in the Princess Alca, and once or twice in old Monas. But there was something in the Arab's look which was peculiar to himself: it was as if madness mingled in his strange abstraction; and when he shook it off, it was with a glance of fury. The boys were quite absorbed by their companion, and when Monas called them away the sun was already on the horizon. They took leave of each other with solemn courtesy, and an hour afterwards the vessel was under weigh and sailing down the Red Sea with a fresh northerly breeze. The boys talked long over their encounter with this strange being, and never forgot it. The makers of England and the false prophet had this wonderful meeting before the serious work of their lives was begun. It taught the English boys to recognise a man with deep convictions, and to distinguish between real fanaticism and fraud. It elevated the fanciful conceptions of the Arab, and when he dreamt of angels he saw the faces of Coelred and of Porlor.
COELRED AND PORLOR ON THEIR WAY TO THE WELLS
The breeze continued, the air was cooler, and Monas said that they would soon reach their next stopping–place, the emporium of Ocelis. By this time he knew the whole history of his young companions. They had never thought for a moment of turning back after the death of the Gothic Prince, but were quite resolved to complete their adventure before returning to Antioch; and the old man, without any tie of his own, had become warmly attached to them. He would give them the use of his knowledge and experience, see them safe again on their way home, and then follow his master Cosmas into monastic seclusion.
Many a long conversation was held between the boys and their aged friend during the long starlight nights, when the little vessel made her way over the smooth sea to Ocelis. One night they talked of the young Arab and his look of abstraction. "It is the look," said Monas, "which betokens fitness for a life of seclusion, of devotion to prayer, and thoughts of eternity. The monks often have it, and the generation in which I live is one much given to a monkish life. It is only in such a life that we can find rest, safety from hell fire, and that religious truth without which there is no safety. In Egypt alone there are now six hundred monasteries, all maintaining the truth against the errors of Rome." "And what is the truth?" asked Porlor. "The truth is," said Monas, "that Christ existed of two natures, and whosoever denies it shall for ever be accursed. The Synod of Chalcedon, when Marcian was emperor, declared that Christ existed in two natures, and this wicked heresy is still held by the priests of Rome, and sends many souls to hell. Dangers and pitfalls of false doctrine surround us, and the only safety from them is in monastic seclusion. Young and old should fly to the desert." "That will I never do," cried Coelred. "My life shall be active and earnest. I devote it to brave deeds and to the service of my countrymen." Old Monas shook his head, but he could not help admiring, and even approving, the very different direction to which the hopes and aspirations of his young friends were turned. They understood his words, but their minds were not trained to receive such subtleties. "Does Muhammad hold the truth," asked Porlor, "or is he, like us, ignorant of the true nature of the Son of God? We are ignorant because what you say is beyond our comprehension. How is it with that Arab warrior with the changing eyes?" "The Arab," said Monas, "is a very young man, and he is a heathen. But he has been in Christian cities with merchants of his tribe, and knows something of the truth. I talked with him in the shade while you slept." "We were not asleep," protested the boys. "Fast asleep," repeated Monas, "while I sounded the depths of the young Arab's mind. He is no ordinary man. He will either receive the truth and convert Arabia into a land of saints, or he will be the mightiest heresiarch with which the world has ever been cursed, spreading desolation and moral death over what once was Christendom. But not in my time," drowsily continued the old man. Coelred rose to take the helm, and Porlor followed Monas to the land of dreams.
It was not often that Monas kept the boys awake with such serious discourse. He generally related the stirring events in his voyages with Cosmas, taught them the rules of steering by the stars, and told of the famous book written in the time of the Emperor Nero, and called the Periplus of the Erythraean Sea, from which Cosmas gleaned much of the information which enabled him to make his voyages successfully. The northerly wind soon brought them to the emporium of Ocelis, near the strait of Dere, which opens upon the Erythraean Sea. Here they again took in water and provisions, proceeding along the Arabian coast to Kane, a port of considerable trade, where some of the merchandise was exchanged for frankincense and aloes. Sailing onwards to the east, they reached Syagros, whence, in accordance with the directions laid down by his master, Monas proceeded to make his bold voyage across the trackless ocean to distant India. The south–west wind, called Hippalus from the pilot who first attempted the passage by it, carried the little vessel across the sea until, in a few days, the coast of Guzerat was sighted, the mouth of the great river Narbada was entered, and Monas piloted her past islands and shoals, and anchored her off the ghât of the busy port of Barugaza.
Founded by the sage Bhriga, the town of Barugaza was one of the oldest seaports of Western India, and was then one of the chief seats of trade. Its exports were cotton, a kind of fine calico called báftás, bdellium, and flowers of the mahina tree. Barugaza is on an artificial hill 60 feet high overlooking the river, the only rising ground for many miles around; for a flat alluvial plain of fertile black soil stretches away for fifty miles to the foot of the mountains, covered with crops of cotton and rice. Here and there a clump of mango and other fruit trees denoted the position of a village, and on an island in the Narbada there was a banyan–tree with 350 large and 3000 small stems, enclosing a space 700 yards in circumference.
There was much to astonish, much to interest, the English lads on first landing at the ghât of Barugaza. They had seen an elephant at Alexandria, but everything else was strange to them; especially the dresses of the people, the merchants in their snow–white robes and red turbans, and the crowds of coolies with nothing but a dhuti round their waists, carrying heavy loads, and taking cargoes on board the boats. Kesava was the name of the merchant who always acted as agent for Monas when he brought a cargo to Barugaza; and this was the fifth time he had made the voyage, without counting those in which he accompanied Cosmas. Before they were contaminated by intercourse with Europeans, the merchants of India were celebrated for their probity and fair dealing; and Kesava was a good specimen of his class. Property could be entrusted to his care with perfect confidence, and he took charge of the vessel and the crew, while Monas and the boys were to convey their merchandise up country to Ujjayani, one of the seven sacred cities of the Hindus, the famous capital of Malwa.
Monas set out on his journey a few days after his arrival at Barugaza. He and the boys travelled in open palkis, their bales of goods were slung on bamboos which were borne on the shoulders of coolies, and they were guarded by a well–equipped body of fighting men. They travelled up stream, along the right bank of the Narbada, for 180 miles, to a small town called Mandlesar, where the river is still 500 yards in width. Thence the route turned northwards across the Vindhya Hills for a distance of seventy miles to Ujjayani. Coelred and Porlor walked across the hills, travelling from midnight until sunrise, and on the third day from leaving Mandlesar they entered the far–famed capital of Malwa. Along this road the English lads observed that long lines of trees were planted to afford shade to travellers from the scorching rays of the sun, while at intervals there were fountains by the road–side to enable them to quench their thirst. Porlor, especially, was deeply impressed with the excellence of a government which took such thought for the comfort of its people.
The city of Ujjayani was built on the right bank of the river Sipra, with ghâts leading down to the water. It was very extensive, and contained many grand edifices, besides the famous temple of Siva and the palace of the Raja. There were, however, more trees than houses. Every dwelling had its shady garden stocked with flowering shrubs, and round the city there was a broad belt of fruit trees, and avenues of the sacred vata or peepul trees, frequented by the Hanuman monkeys. Within this belt of foliage were the great tanks with bathing ghâts shaded by clumps of tall trees, above which rose the spreading fans of the palmyra palm and the graceful areca; while palása and tulasi shrubs, with their gorgeous flowers, concealed the bathers.
The golden age of Hindu literature was the period when Vikramaditya ruled at Ujjayani about B.C. 57, and when the "Nava–ratna" or nine gems of literature flourished there. His dynasty still ruled over Malwa, and in 592 Jayachandra was the Raja. The place was full of traditions of the hero king, and of his divine poet Kalidasa, whose immortal works had the freshness and reality at Ujjayani which such poems can only really possess at the place where they were composed. The bright river Sipra, the flowering groves, the pretty girls descending the ghâts with lotas on their heads, the cranes in the paddy swamps—all nature reminded the votaries of Kalidasa that he dwelt at the court of Ujjayani when he wrote Sakuntala, the Seasons, and the Cloud Messenger. Peace reigned in Malwa, but there were threatening clouds on the northern horizon. Gollas, King of the White Huns, had overrun Northern India, and terror repeated marvellous stories of the prowess of his army, which included 2000 elephants. It was said that, when he besieged a town, his soldiers drank all the water in the ditch, and then marched dry–shod to beat down the walls. It was to this conqueror that Athanagild had contemplated the offer of his sword; but Coelred and Porlor had no such intention. Ujjayani was to be the remotest point of their wanderings, whence they were to return homewards.
Monas was busily engaged in exchanging the merchandise for bales of small bulk, containing fine calico and muslin, valuable gums, spices, precious stones, and specie. Among his acquaintance there was an old Guru named Govinda, who had travelled far and spoke Greek. He was a man of profound learning though of Sudra caste, and was passing the evening of his days at Ujjayani, occupied in speculative studies. Govinda had taken a great fancy for the English lads, whose bright intelligence and simple truthfulness first attracted his regard. After their bath in one of the great tanks, they often passed hours conversing with the Guru, asking him questions, and listening to his wonderful discourse. He was generally in the verandah of a small garden–house near a large tank, which was surrounded by flowering shrubs, and shaded by a large vata tree. Here the Guru sat, an old man with a very benevolent expression and high intellectual forehead, clothed in snow–white robes, often with a bundle of reeds forming a book, and a kalam in his hand. Coelred and Porlor reclined on a step at his side, listening eagerly to what he told them. The boys were in perfect health, being well cared for by Monas as regards clothing and protection from the sun and from chills, and living on a diet of rice and pulses duly seasoned, on fruits, and milk. They were thus able to enjoy to the full all the wonders of their sojourn at Ujjayani.
The Guru had told them many tales of Hindu gods and heroes. One morning the boys came from their bath with a quantity of crimson water–lilies, and a handful of the golden–coloured champaka flower, sacred to Krishna. This led Govinda to tell them the story of the avatur, calling Krishna the Son of God. They, in their turn, related the legend of Balder, and, after reflecting a while, the Guru said that Balder and Krishna were one, and that both were Christ. Remembering the conversation with Monas, Porlor asked whether this Son of God with several names, whom they all worshipped, existed of two natures or in two natures. "Both," replied the Guru, and this bold solution appeared at once to sweep away the motives for religious disputes which sounded so incomprehensible to the boys. "Both, for whether of or in two natures, the incarnation of a deity embraces and contains, and in fact is, all that can be expressed by prepositions, and much more."
Then, descending from such sublime speculations, he said that he would relate to his young friends the sequel of the story of the Pandavas, those princes favoured by Krishna, including their search for heaven after a long life of adventures and vicissitudes. The Pandavas found that all the rewards of this life were vanity, and that they must seek for higher and better things. "We must all do likewise sooner or later, and meanwhile we may reflect on the story of the Pandavas," he went on. "There were five princes—Yudisthira, Arjuna, Bhima, and the two sons of Madri. They set out with their wife Draupadi and their dog Suparaka." "That is the name of our dear old dog at home!" exclaimed Coelred. "True," said the Guru, "for Suparaka is Yama." He continued—"The princes, with their beautiful wife and faithful dog, set out for the mighty Himalaya Mountains, to find the heaven of the gods on Mount Meru." "Is not Asgard the abode of the gods?" interrupted Coelred. "Asgard is Meru," explained the long–suffering Guru; "but few can reach it, trusting in their own strength. Sins and moral defects prove fatal to the pilgrims. They toiled on over scorching plains and snowy mountains, tired and foot–sore. Draupadi was the first to fall." Porlor asked why she should be the first. "Her love for Arjuna was too great," explained the Guru. "Next fell one of the sons of Madri, for he thought that none was equal to himself; and the other son of Madri followed, for he had the same fault. Then Arjuna fell, because he could not fulfil his boast that he would destroy all his enemies in one day. Bhima fell, because he cursed his opponents before he encountered them in fight. Yudisthira and the dog Suparaka alone reached the gate of heaven. The Prince was invited by the gods to enter, but he refused unless Draupadi and his brothers were also received. He was assured that they were already there. But he still refused, unless the faithful dog Suparaka could bear him company. The gods remonstrated, but Yudisthira was firm. 'Never, come weal or come woe, will I abandon that faithful dog.' He prevailed, but when he entered he found that Draupadi and his brothers were not in heaven. They cried to him for help from hell. Yudisthira triumphed in the crowning trial. He resolved to share the fate of his dear ones in hell, rather than enjoy heaven without them. This was the supreme test applied by the gods. They then showed him that it was all maya or illusion, and the brothers, Draupadi, and the dog dwell in heaven with the gods, in full content of heart for ever."
Coelred and Porlor talked much over this story of Yudisthira when they returned that evening to their home with Monas. They loved the Pandu prince for standing by the good dog Suparaka, and they swore that they would imitate the steadfast loyalty of Yudisthira.
Thus the days passed on, while Monas completed his business, and the Guru related many strange tales to the English lads. One day, as they sat with him, a dark mass of cloud rose from the southern horizon, and moved rapidly northwards across the sky towards the Himalayan snows. Old Govinda pointed to it, and said that it reminded him of Kalidasa's poem of the Cloud Messenger. "Tell us about it," said both the boys; and he related how Yaksha was banished for some fault by the god Kuvera, and was sent to pass the years of his exile at Ramagiri, near Nagpore, and to the south of Ujjayani, and of the Vindhyan Hills. One day he saw a cloud, the herald of the rainy season, passing to the north, just as the cloud we now see floats in the same direction. He prayed to the cloud to take a message for him, after discharging some of its moisture.
With pinions swifter by the 'minisht store,
Soon over Vindhyan mountains thou wilt soar,
And Reva's rippling stream, whose waters glide
Beneath their feet, without their rush and roar,
In many a rock–bound channel, summer dried,
Like lines of paint that deck an elephant's huge side.
The cloud passed on to this bright imperial city of Ujjayani, the pride of all the earth. It rested on flower–sweet terraces where women sit at open casements, while the air of the morning
Plays wooingly around the loosened hair
And fevered cheek—
Then, as it blows o'er Sipra fresh and strong,
Bids all her swans upon the banks prepare
To hail the sunrise.
"The cloud hurries onward on its journey," said Porlor, "but whither was Yaksha's message sent?" "It was sent," said the Guru, "to Alakà." "To Alca!" exclaimed both the boys, as they sprang to their feet in astonishment. Then, seeing the question in Govinda's eyes, they explained that Alca was the beautiful Princess of Deira. "We love her more than anything in the world. She knows everything. She loves all living things. She can disclose all the hidden mysteries of nature. She is our joy, our hope. Oh that the cloud would take a message to her from us! Shall we pray to it? Answer us, good Govinda."
The Guru looked at the eager faces of the boys. He then pondered for a long time. At last he said—"The Alakà of our religion is believed to be the abode or the heaven of the Gandharva on Mount Meru. The Gandharva is the being who knows and reveals the secrets of nature and divine truth, and prepares the holy soma juice for the gods." He again paused to think. "Your northern Princess Alca is the same as our Alakà, the abode of the Gandharva of wisdom and truth, the depository of the secrets of nature. You do well to love her. Pray then to the cloud and it will take your message." The boys knelt down, praying long and fervently to the cloud to take their message. It was that they were well, that they had never forgotten her words, that they would return to her. The Guru assured them that they had not prayed in vain. They had never felt so happy since they parted from the Princess at Aldby.
Not many days afterwards they bade farewell to the Guru, who had become warmly attached to them; for Monas had completed his arrangements, the bales were ready, and they started on their return journey to Barugaza. The boys had offered their old friend a gold ring as a keepsake, which he declined. But when he saw them for the last time he gave them a small parcel as an offering for their Princess. "It contains," he said, "a very precious gum called bdellium, translucent and fragrant. It is a trifle by which to remember me." "We shall never forget you, dear Guru," exclaimed Coelred; and Porlor declared that "Bdellium" should be their watchword and the watchword of their friends for evermore. Soon Ujjayani and the Guru, Barugaza and its busy ghât, were but memories. The north–east wind was taking their little vessel homewards again across the Erythraean Sea.
One night, as old Monas sat aft by the steering oar, with Coelred and Porlor near him, he asked the boys what they had been told by the Guru. Porlor was full of his praises, and repeated the stories of Krishna and of the Pandus; but something held the brothers back from mentioning the Cloud Messenger to the aged pilot. They declared that the Guru was the wisest, the most learned, and the most religious man in the world, and that he was beloved by God. "The strange and incomprehensible questions over which others quarrel for days and years, the Guru sees through and settles with a word. He is generous, and says that all men, more or less, are in the right way." Monas shook his head. "My friend Govinda," he said, "is learned and good. It grieves me to the heart that he will assuredly be burnt in hell fire for ever and ever. Yet that must be his fate, for he is unsound on all points of doctrine." It was on the tip of Coelred's tongue to say he would go where the Guru went; but he checked himself, for the boys loved old Monas, and made it a point not to anger or annoy him. "Beware," he continued, "how you allow plausible falsehoods to sink into your hearts. You are very young and will be surrounded by dangers. May the Lord watch over you!"
On another night Monas explained their position to his young friends. "Thanks to Prince Athanagild," he said, "you are very rich. Your property consists of small bales easily carried but of great value, and of gold coins and gems. The crew will be amply recompensed by a present of the vessel and a generous distribution of money. We will land at Berenike, to which port the voyage is much shorter than to Myos Hormos. There camels can be procured, and the journey to the Nile will occupy three days. I will accompany you to Alexandria and see you embarked for Antioch. For myself I need nothing. I go to the cell of my old master, who must now be dead, where I shall end my days happily, in prayer and in the contemplation of the true nature of the incarnate Word. Your destiny is very different. I am on the verge of the grave. You are entering upon life. You are brave and true. May the blessing of God be with you!"
It was very grateful to the old pilot to receive the warm thanks of his young friends, knowing how true and genuine they were; and the voyage passed pleasantly. The plans of Monas were admirably arranged. The crew was satisfied, the journey across the desert and the voyage down the Nile were performed without accident, and when Coelred and Porlor left Alexandria in the vessel that was to convey them to the port of Antioch, the last thing they saw was the white cloth with which old Monas waved his farewell from the Pharos.
CHAPTER VI
IRAN
Sivel was a very intelligent and quick–witted boy, and he rapidly learnt all his companions could teach him in the treasury office at Antioch and in the mint. He was able to read and write, and had even tried his hand on the dies for stamping coins. The decadence of art had been very rapid since the days of Gallienus. All attempts at portraiture on the coins had disappeared, though there was still a head, and an angel with orb and cross on the reverse. It was not beyond the powers of a clever boy like Sivel to tool the inscriptions, and even to copy the rough effigy of the good Emperor. Not a few of the rude letters traced on Byzantine money of this period are the work of our English boy:
ti mavricivs imp an ix cos
dn mavricivs pp avg,
or
dn mavric tiber pf avg;
and he was thus busily employed when the news spread that troops from the Persian war were returning. Sivel lived, with several Greek clerks in the employment of the Count of the Sacred Largesses, in a large room opening on a court which formed part of the palace. As he worked one day, two tall forms stood in the doorway, and in another moment the delighted boy was wrapped in the tight embraces of Lilla and Bassus, who had returned unhurt from the war, and with license to proceed on their own affairs to Rome. Many days had not elapsed before Coelred and Porlor, with their small but precious bales, also reached the Syrian capital and found a safe place—an "uvaru" they called it—in which to bestow their goods for the time. The lads were beside themselves with joy at meeting once more, and they agreed that all, including Sivel, should embark in the first vessel bound for Brundusium.
They longed to hear each other's stories, and when Porlor had related the particulars of the wonderful voyage to India and back, Lilla promised, with the help of his friend Bassus, to describe what they had seen during the Persian war. On the next evening they assembled under the shade of the grove of palm trees, outside the city gate, whence they had beheld the arrival of Khosro Parviz before their adventures began. Bassus first explained the cause of the war. "On the dethronement and death of Hormazd IV., King of Persia," he said, "there was great confusion. Bahram, the ablest of the Persian generals, gained over the army and seized the government, while the King's son, Khosro Parviz, took refuge in Roman territory. We all witnessed his arrival at Antioch from this very spot, and we know that the Emperor graciously resolved to restore the fugitive prince to the throne of his ancestors. He was influenced in making this decision partly by policy, but mainly, it is believed, by the generous dictates of his imperial nature. Our master in the art of war, the great General Narses, received the commands of the Emperor Maurice to execute his orders, and he planned the campaign with consummate skill. It was known that Bahram, with the Persian army, was posted in the Mesopotamian plain beyond the river Tigris, and not far from the foot of the mountains. Narses resolved that the Roman forces should enter Persia in two divisions. The General himself, accompanied by the King of Persia, led the main body from Antioch to the Tigris, while a Roman contingent, under the command of John, the Prefect of Armenia, was to create a diversion by breaking into the northern Persian province of Azerbijan. For Narses had carefully studied the science of tactics and evolutions under the eye of the Emperor, who was himself the author of twelve books on the military art. You saw the army commence its march, and we parted in the earnest hope that this happy day of meeting again would not be long deferred. Lilla must now tell you of our march."
The thread of the story was then taken up by the fearless son of Guthlaf. "As pages of the General," said Lilla, "we rode behind him, and encamped near his tent. For several days we had to traverse a vast desert, and we were often parched with thirst; but at length we reached the river Tigris, passing over it near a great mound which, we were told, covers the ruins of the most ancient city in the world, called Nineveh. Crossing the river, our General made three rapid marches to overtake the Persians, who were encamped at the foot of the mountains. Then the wisdom of the strategy of Narses was made clear. Hearing of the march of the Armenian contingent, the Persian General feared lest it should fall on his rear, and he began a rapid march to the northward to attack it. But the Prefect John had strict orders to avoid an encounter; and eventually Bahram made a countermarch to cover the city of Canzaca, towards which Narses was steadily advancing. Leaving the plain, our way led us through the mountains of Media, to Sirgàn, on the plain of Ushneï, where a junction was formed with John's contingent. Three days afterwards a great battle was fought in a hilly country. For a time the Roman infantry fell back before the vigorous charges of Persian horse, and Narses himself dashed into the thick of the battle. We fought by his side, and when the victory was won the General was so pleased with us that he gave us separate commands of infantry companies. Next morning Bahram continued his retreat over the mountains, closely pursued by us, and at night we pitched our camp close to the Persian position. Still retreating, the Persians descended into the plain in which their great city of Canzaca is built on a high rock. Here the final and decisive battle was fought. Bassus and I led on our men, and were long engaged in desperate encounters side by side. At last we saw the enemy flying in all directions. But we were too exhausted to follow them, and rested for three days on the battle–field. Our General then occupied the Persian city of Canzaca.
"Khosro Parviz was overjoyed. Our army had made him once more King of Kings, or Malkân Malkâ. He declared that the Emperor Maurice was his father, requested a contingent of the Romans to remain in his service, and promised great rewards to the rest. For a short time we were posted in the wonderful city where the people worship fire which has been kept burning for 700 years." Porlor and Coelred had both been too absorbed in the story of the campaign to interrupt with questions, but now Porlor asked whether fire was really the god of those people. "Yes," said Bassus, "we saw them worshipping before it. Canzaca is on a hill which rises high above the plain, with a steep acclivity to the north and west, and a sloping approach from the east. The brow of this hill is crowned by a circlet of strong stone walls 12 feet wide, extending for a great distance, with an arched gateway also of massive hewn stone, leading into the town. In the highest part of the town there is a lake, 300 paces round, with exquisitely clear water of a deep blue colour, which has no bottom. And now I come to your question about the fire. Near the lake there stands a fire–temple—pyraeum the Greeks call it. Built of bricks and cement, its walls are of great thickness, and a narrow vaulted passage surrounds the central chamber. This chamber has a great arch on each of its sides, and is surmounted by a circular dome on which the stars of heaven are painted. A silver moon is on the highest point. In the centre of this chamber is the altar with the sacred fire. We have seen the King, Khosro Parviz, enthroned there, surrounded by emblems of the sun and moon, with the golden globe on his head, while all his people prayed to the flame on the altar."
"We used to sit on the walls," said Lilla, "and look over a vast extent of country bounded by distant mountains. At our feet there was a winding rocky ridge, the height of two men and 80 paces long, called 'the Dragon.' We were told that the monster was coming open–mouthed to devour the city when it was suddenly transformed into stone by the potent spell of the signet ring of an ancient king they call Solomon. Certainly it was lying on the plain before us, like a winding serpent of stone. We were offered commands by the King of Persia, which we declined, and the General then said that we deserved some reward and might name it. So we asked for license to go to Rome, where friends urgently needed our presence, which was granted. Narses said that he was sorry to part with us when we took leave, and we set out with a small escort. We had to cross the Median mountains to reach the plains of Mesopotamia, and in the pass my Bassus was so badly hurt by a fall with his horse that we had to remain at a place called Sideh for several days." "Did they also worship fire in that place?" asked Porlor. "No," said Lilla, "they had a stranger worship. They believe in an ancient bird called the Simùrg, which has been alive since the world began. Passing to and fro over the earth from the beginning, the Simùrg has seen everything. It therefore knows everything, and is a bird of great wisdom. Its counsel is sought for, but it is seldom seen, and its abode is believed to be on the mountain peak of Demavend. They worship a figure of the Simùrg made of silver, which we saw. It was on a raised platform, and has a swelling breast, small head, and wide–spreading tail. Two lamps are always burning before it, and close by there is a jug filled with water, to be used as a spell for the sick and afflicted when the Simùrg cannot be consulted in person. As soon as Bassus was well enough we left Sideh, descended into the plain, and, after a long and tedious journey, arrived at Antioch without further accident."
"How wonderful are the numbers of gods!" observed Porlor. "We have found people not only worshipping the Son of God under many names, but also bowing down to snakes, cows, and monkeys. Now you tell us that there are people who worship a flame of fire, and others whose belief is in an ancient bird. Many of their creeds are incomprehensible, but the Princess Alca will explain it all to us when we go home." Coelred warmly thanked Lilla and Bassus for the story of their campaign, which had been of absorbing interest to him, and for telling him and Porlor of all the wonders they had seen. A very happy evening had been passed under the palm trees.
The subsequent days were occupied in preparations for the voyage to Brundusium. A vessel had been hired at Seleucia and was ready to sail, when a great calamity overtook the friends. Little Sivel was missing. He had not been seen since the evening when Lilla and Bassus related their adventures. The other lads had taken leave of him in the street, but his companions in the treasury said that he never came home. Several days were wasted in a vain search. At last Lilla remembered that, while passing through a crowd in the agora the day after his arrival, he for a moment caught sight of a face which reminded him of Mystacon. The incident had passed from his memory, being full of other exciting thoughts at the time. "I see it all!" exclaimed Porlor. The rest turned to him for an explanation, but he declared there was no time to explain, and that they must hurry down to the port of Seleucia. Porlor instituted inquiries at once, through the agent for their vessel, and sure enough Mystacon the merchant had been there. He had sailed, on his way to Rome, three days before. Further inquiry elicited the fact that some one, muffled up in cloths and gagged, had been carried on board.
"We are too late!" exclaimed Porlor. "We must follow quickly to Rome and effect the rescue there. For the villainy is unmasked. Mystacon has seen Pamphronius, who has offered large sums for the recovery of his slaves. He has found out that our Sivel was at Antioch, with his value greatly increased owing to his acquired knowledge and well–known ability, of which every one talks. He has kidnapped our boy and taken him to Rome, with the object of extorting a heavy sum from Pamphronius, and he will probably keep Sivel concealed until it is paid." They were all wild with rage. "To the rescue! to the rescue!" they shouted. "Death to Mystacon and Pamphronius!" Their preparations were soon made. Next day the captain and crew were on board, the anchor was up, and the vessel was bowling along before a fresh easterly breeze. But it was a long stern chase.
The lads held many consultations during the voyage. Great caution would be necessary, for they were resolved not only to rescue Sivel, but also to kill Mystacon, and perhaps Pamphronius. Otacilia, the widow of Symmachus Boethius, who had always been very kind to Coelred and Porlor, and disliked Pamphronius, had manumitted all her husband's slaves. This news had reached Antioch. Coelred and Porlor, in order to be close to the scene of action, would therefore seek, and felt sure of obtaining, hospitality in the great rambling villa of the departed Symmachus. Lilla and Bassus would take up their quarters, as imperial officers, in lodgings within the old Prætorian camp. Their friends at the monastery would be eager to help as soon as the news was told them. Then a watch must be kept on the Pamphronian villa, while Lilla was to visit his old master, and ascertain whether Sivel was already there. All the haunts of Mystacon were also to be searched, and further details were to be settled hereafter, as they must depend on the course of events.
Thus did these lads rack their brains to devise the surest way of rescuing their beloved companion. Coelred and Porlor were rich, and easily defrayed the expenses of the vessel, and of posting rapidly from Brundusium to Rome. It was early in the year 595 that the four lads returned. Six years had passed since the mortifying scene in the slave–market. Lilla and Coelred had now reached the age of eighteen, Porlor was sixteen years old. Both Coelred and Porlor were hospitably received by Otacilia, as they anticipated, and the heroes from Persia were lodged in the old camp. Next day they all hurried to greet and to consult with their comrades in the monastery of St. Andrew.