After this parting salutation, the whole group rose silently from their
knees; and it was then, for the first time, that, by a cry of terror from
one of the women, the appearance of a stranger at the window was
discovered. The whole assembly seemed startled and alarmed, except him,
that superior person, who, advancing from the altar, with an unmoved look,
raised the latch of the door, which was adjoining to the window, and
admitted me.
There was, in this old man’s features, a mixture of elevation and
sweetness, of simplicity and energy, which commanded at once attachment
and homage; and half hoping, half fearing to find in him the destined
guardian of Alethe, I looked anxiously in his face, as I entered, and
pronounced the name “Melanius!” “Melanius is my name, young stranger,” he
answered; “and whether in friendship or in enmity thou comest, Melanius
blesses thee.” Thus saying, he made a sign with his right hand above my
head, while, with involuntary respect, I bowed beneath the benediction.
“Let this volume,” I replied, “answer for the peacefulness of my
mission,”—at the same time, placing in his hands the copy of the
Scriptures, which had been his own gift to the mother of Alethe, and which
her child now brought as the credential of her claims on his protection.
At the sight of this sacred pledge, which he recognized instantly, the
solemnity that had marked his first reception of me softened into
tenderness. Thoughts of other times seemed to pass through his mind, and
as, with a sigh of recollection, he took the book from my hands, some
words on the outer leaf caught his eye. They were few,—but contained,
perhaps, the last wishes of the dying Theora, for as he eagerly read them
over, I saw the tears in his aged eyes. “The trust,” he said, with a
faltering voice, “is sacred, and God will, I hope, enable his servant to
guard it faithfully.”
During this short dialogue, the other persons of the assembly had
departed—being, as I afterwards learned, brethren from the neighbouring
bank of the Nile, who came thus secretly before day‐break, to join in
worshipping God. Fearful lest their descent down the rock might alarm
Alethe, I hurried briefly over the few words of explanation that remained,
and, leaving the venerable Christian to follow at his leisure, hastened
anxiously down to rejoin the maiden.
CHAP. XVI.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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