Ben Hur Lew Wallace (black male authors .TXT) 📖

“A wish! Where is he who could say it no?”

“I will try you.”

“Tell it then.”

“It is very simple. I wish to help you.”

She drew closer as she spoke.

He laughed, and replied, lightly, “O Egypt!⁠—I came near saying dear Egypt!⁠—does not the sphinx abide in your country?”

“Well?”

“You are one of its riddles. Be merciful, and give me a little clue to help me understand you. In what do I need help? And how can you help me?”

She took her hand from him, and, turning to the camel, spoke to it endearingly, and patted its monstrous head as it were a thing of beauty.

“O thou last and swiftest and stateliest of the herds of Job! Sometimes thou, too, goest stumbling, because the way is rough and stony and the burden grievous. How is it thou knowest the kind intent by a word; and always makest answer gratefully, though the help offered is from a woman? I will kiss thee, thou royal brute!”⁠—she stooped and touched its broad forehead with her lips, saying immediately, “because in thy intelligence there is no suspicion!”

And Ben-Hur, restraining himself, said calmly, “The reproach has not failed its mark, O Egypt! I seem to say thee no; may it not be because I am under seal of honor, and by my silence cover the lives and fortunes of others?”

“May be!” she said, quickly. “It is so.”

He shrank a step, and asked, his voice sharp with amazement, “What all knowest thou?”

She answered, after a laugh,

“Why do men deny that the senses of women are sharper than theirs? Your face has been under my eyes all day. I had but to look at it to see you bore some weight in mind; and to find the weight, what had I to do more than recall your debates with my father? Son of Hur!”⁠—she lowered her voice with singular dexterity, and, going nearer, spoke so her breath was warm upon his cheek⁠—“son of Hur! he thou art going to find is to be King of the Jews, is he not?”

His heart beat fast and hard.

“A King of the Jews like Herod, only greater,” she continued.

He looked away⁠—into the night, up to the stars; then his eyes met hers, and lingered there; and her breath was on his lips, so near was she.

“Since morning,” she said, further, “we have been having visions. Now if I tell you mine, will you serve me as well? What! silent still?”

She pushed his hand away, and turned as if to go; but he caught her, and said, eagerly, “Stay⁠—stay and speak!”

She went back, and with her hand upon his shoulder, leaned against him; and he put his arm around her, and drew her close, very close; and in the caress was the promise she asked.

“Speak, and tell me thy visions, O Egypt, dear Egypt! A prophet⁠—nay, not the Tishbite, not even the Lawgiver⁠—could have refused an asking of thine. I am at thy will. Be merciful⁠—merciful, I pray.”

The entreaty passed apparently unheard, for looking up and nestling in his embrace, she said, slowly, “The vision which followed me was of magnificent war⁠—war on land and sea⁠—with clashing of arms and rush of armies, as if Caesar and Pompey were come again, and Octavius and Antony. A cloud of dust and ashes arose and covered the world, and Rome was not any more; all dominion returned to the East; out of the cloud issued another race of heroes; and there were vaster satrapies and brighter crowns for giving away than were ever known. And, son of Hur, while the vision was passing, and after it was gone, I kept asking myself, ‘What shall he not have who served the King earliest and best?’ ”

Again Ben-Hur recoiled. The question was the very question which had been with him all day. Presently he fancied he had the clue he wanted.

“So,” he said, “I have you now. The satrapies and crowns are the things to which you would help me. I see, I see! And there never was such queen as you would be, so shrewd, so beautiful, so royal⁠—never! But, alas, dear Egypt! by the vision as you show it me the prizes are all of war, and you are but a woman, though Isis did kiss you on the heart. And crowns are starry gifts beyond your power of help, unless, indeed, you have a way to them more certain than that of the sword. If so, O Egypt, Egypt, show it me, and I will walk in it, if only for your sake.”

She removed his arm, and said, “Spread your cloak upon the sand⁠—here, so I can rest against the camel. I will sit, and tell you a story which came down the Nile to Alexandria, where I had it.”

He did as she said, first planting the spear in the ground near by.

“And what shall I do?” he said, ruefully, when she was seated. “In Alexandria is it customary for the listeners to sit or stand?”

From the comfortable place against the old domestic she answered, laughing, “The audiences of storytellers are wilful, and sometimes they do as they please.”

Without more ado he stretched himself upon the sand, and put her arm about his neck.

“I am ready,” he said.

And directly she began:

How the Beautiful Came to Earth

“You must know, in the first place, that Isis was⁠—and, for that matter, she may yet be⁠—the most beautiful of deities; and Osiris, her husband, though wise and powerful, was sometimes stung with jealousy of her, for only in their loves are the gods like mortals.

“The palace of the Divine Wife was of silver, crowning the tallest mountain in the moon, and thence she passed often to the sun, in the heart of which, a source of eternal light, Osiris kept his palace of gold too shining for men to look at.

“One time⁠—there are no days with the gods⁠—while she was full pleasantly with him