Egypt -- History -- 30 B.C.-640 A.D. -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English
"What! Damascius the Arian?" cried the Bishop. He drew his fine and
stately figure up to its most commanding height and closed his thin lips
in august contempt, while Irenaeus, clasping his hands in horror, asked
her:
"And you--do you, too, confess the heresy of Arius?"
"My parents were Arians," replied Agne in much surprise. "They taught me
to worship the godlike Saviour."
"Enough!" exclaimed the Bishop severely. "Come Irenaeus."
He nodded to the priest to follow him, opened the curtain and went in
first with supreme dignity.
Agne stood as if a thunderbolt had fallen, pale, trembling and desperate.
Then was she not a Christian? Was it a sin in a child to accept the
creed of her parents? And were those who, after charitably extending a
saving hand, had so promptly withdrawn it--were they Christians in the
full meaning of the All-merciful Redeemer?
Agonizing doubts of everything that she had hitherto deemed sacred and
inviolable fell upon her soul; doubts of everything in heaven and earth,
and not merely of Christ and of his godlike, or divine goodness--for what
difference was there to her apprehension in the meaning of the two words
which set man to hunt and persecute man? In the distress and hopeless
dilemma in which she found herself, she shed no tears; she simply stood
rooted to the spot where she had heard the Bishop's verdict.
Presently her attention was roused by the shrill voice of an old writer
who called out to one of the younger assistants.
"That girl disturbs me, Petubastis; show her out." Petubastis, a pretty
Egyptian lad, was more than glad of an interruption to his work which
somehow seemed endless to-day; he put aside his implements, stroked back
the black hair that had fallen over his face, and removing the reed-pen
from behind his ear, stuck in a sprig of dark blue larkspur. Then he
tripped to the door, opened it, looked at the girl with the cool
impudence of a connoisseur in beauty, bowed slightly, and pointing the
way out said with airified politeness:
"Allow me!"
Agne at once obeyed and with a drooping head left the room; but the young
Egyptian stole out after her, and as soon as the door was shut he seized
her hand and said in a whisper: "If you can wait half an hour at the
bottom of the stairs, pretty one, I will take you somewhere where you
will enjoy yourself."
She had stopped to listen, and looked enquiringly into his face, for she
had no suspicion of his meaning; the young fellow, encouraged by this,
laid his hand on her shoulder and would have drawn her towards him but
that she, thrusting him from her as if he were some horrible animal, flew
down the steps as fast as her feet could carry her, and through the
courtyard back into the great entrance-hall.
Here all was, by this time, dark and still; only a few lamps lighted the
pillared space and the flare of a torch fell upon the benches placed
there for the accommodation of priests, laymen and supplicants generally.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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