Hypatia or New Foes with an Old Face Part 46

'And do you recollect, too, the argument which I had once with your steward about the pickled fish which I brought you from Egypt; and the way in which, when the jar was opened, the servants shrieked and ran right and left, declaring that the fish-bones were the spines of poisonous serpents?'

'The old fellow is as obstinate as ever, I a.s.sure you, in his disbelief in salt water. He torments me continually by asking me to tell him the story of my s.h.i.+pwreck, and does not believe me after all, though he has heard it a dozen times. "Sir," he said to me solemnly, after you were gone, "will that strange gentleman pretend to persuade me that anything eatable can come out of his great pond there at Alexandria, when every one can see that the best fountain in the country never breeds anything but frogs and leeches?"'

As he spoke they left the last field behind them, and entered upon a vast sheet of breezy down, speckled with shrubs and copse, and split here and there by rocky glens ending in fertile valleys once thick with farms and homesteads.

'Here,' cried Synesius, 'are our hunting-grounds. And now for one hour's forgetfulness, and the joys of the n.o.ble art. What could old Homer have been thinking of when he forgot to number it among the pursuits which are glorious to heroes, and make man ill.u.s.trious, and yet could laud in those very words the forum?'

'The forum?' said Raphael. 'I never saw it yet make men anything but rascals.'

'Brazen-faced rascals, my friend. I detest the whole breed of lawyers, and never meet one without turning him into ridicule; effeminate pettifoggers, who shudder at the very sight of roast venison, when they think of the dangers by which it has been procured. But it is a cowardly age, my friend-a cowardly age. Let us forget it, and ourselves.'

'And even philosophy and Hypatia?' said Raphael archly.

'I have done with philosophy. To fight like a Heracleid, and to die like a bishop, is all I have left-except Hypatia, the perfect, the wise! I tell you, friend, it is a comfort to me, even in my deepest misery, to recollect that the corrupt world yet holds one being so divine-'

And he was running on in one of his high-flown laudations of his idol, when Raphael checked him.

'I fear our common sympathy on that subject is rather weakened. I have begun to doubt her lately nearly as much as I doubt philosophy.'

'Not her virtue?

'No, friend; nor her beauty, nor her wisdom; simply her power of making me a better man. A selfish criterion, you will say. Be it so.... What a n.o.ble horse that is of yours!'

'He has been-he has been; but worn out now, like his master and his master's fortunes....'

'Not so, certainly, the colt on which you have done me the honour to mount me.'

'Ah, my poor boy's pet!.... You are the first person who has crossed him since-'

'Is he of your own breeding?' asked Raphael, trying to turn the conversation.

'A cross between that white Nisaean which you sent me, and one of my own mares.'

'Not a bad cross; though he keeps a little of the bull head and greyhound flank of your Africans.'

'So much the better, friend. Give me bone-bone and endurance for this rough down country. Your delicate Nisaeans are all very well for a few minutes over those flat sands of Egypt: but here you need a horse who will go forty miles a day over rough and smooth, and dine thankfully off thistles at night. Aha, poor little man!'-as a jerboa sprang up from a tuft of bushes at his feet-'I fear you must help to fill our soup-kettle in these hard times.'

And with a dexterous sweep of his long whip, the worthy bishop entangled the jerboas long legs, whisked him up to his saddle-bow, and delivered him to the groom and the game-bag.

'Kill him at once. Don't let him squeak, boy!-he cries too like a child....'

'Poor little wretch!' said Raphael. 'What more right, now, have we to eat him than he to eat us?'

'Eh? If he can eat us, let him try. How long have you joined the Manichees?'

'Have no fears on that score. But, as I told you, since my wonderful conversion by Bran, the dog, I have begun to hold dumb animals in respect, as probably quite as good as myself.'

'Then you need a further conversion, friend Raphael, and to learn what is the dignity of man; and when that arrives, you will learn to believe, with me, that the life of every beast upon the face of the earth would be a cheap price to pay in exchange for the life of the meanest human being.'

'Yes, if they be required for food: but really, to kill them for our amus.e.m.e.nt!'

'Friend, when I was still a heathen, I recollect well how I used to haggle at that story of the cursing of the fig-tree; but when I learnt to know what man was, and that I had been all my life mistaking for a part of nature that race which was originally, and can be again, made in the likeness of G.o.d, then I began to see that it were well if every fig-tree upon earth were cursed, if the spirit of one man could be taught thereby a single lesson. And so I speak of these, my darling field-sports, on which I have not been ashamed, as you know, to write a book.'

'And a very charming one: yet you were still a pagan, recollect, when you wrote it.'

'I was; and then I followed the chase by mere nature and inclination. But now I know I have a right to follow it, because it gives me endurance, promptness, courage, self-control, as well as health and cheerfulness: and therefore-Ah! a fresh ostrich-track!'

And stopping short, Synesius began p.r.i.c.king slowly up the hillside.

'Back!' whispered he, at last. 'Quietly and silently. Lie down on your horse's neck, as I do, or the long-necked rogues may see you. They must be close to us over the brow. I know that favourite gra.s.sy slope of old. Round under yon hill, or they will get wind of us, and then farewell to them!'

And Synesius and his groom cantered on, hanging each to their horses' necks by an arm and a leg, in a way which Raphael endeavoured in vain to imitate.

Two or three minutes more of breathless silence brought them to the edge of the hill, where Synesius halted, peered down a moment, and then turned to Raphael, his face and limbs quivering with delight, as he held up two fingers, to denote the number of the birds.

'Out of arrow-range! Slip the dogs, Syphax!'

And in another minute Raphael found himself galloping headlong down the hill, while two magnificent ostriches, their outspread plumes waving in the bright breeze, their necks stooped almost to the ground, and their long legs flas.h.i.+ng out behind them, were sweeping away before the greyhounds at a pace which no mortal horse could have held for ten minutes.

'Baby that I am still!' cried Synesius, tears of excitement glittering in his eyes;.... while Raphael gave himself up to the joy, and forgot even Victoria, in the breathless rush over rock and bush, sandhill and watercourse.

'Take care of that dry torrent-bed! Hold up, old horse! This will not last two minutes more. They cannot hold their pace against this breeze.... Well tried, good dog, though you did miss him! Ah, that my boy were here! There-they double. Spread right and left, my children, and ride at them as they pa.s.s!'

And the ostriches, unable, as Synesius said, to keep their pace against the breeze, turned sharp on their pursuers, and beating the air with outspread wings, came down the wind again, at a rate even more wonderful than before.

'Ride at him, Raphael-ride at him, and turn him into those bushes!' cried Synesius, fitting an arrow to his bow.

Raphael obeyed, and the bird swerved into the low scrub; the well-trained horse leapt at him like a cat; and Raphael, who dare not trust his skill in archery, struck with his whip at the long neck as it struggled past him, and felled the n.o.ble quarry to the ground. He was in the act of springing down to secure his prize, when a shout from Synesius stopped him.

'Are you mad? He will kick out your heart! Let the dogs hold him!'

'Where is the other?' asked Raphael, panting.

'Where he ought to be. I have not missed a running shot for many a month.'

'Really, you rival the Emperor Commodus himself.'

'Ah! I tried his fancy of crescent-headed arrows once, and decapitated an ostrich or two tolerably: but they are only fit for the amphitheatre: they will not lie safely in the quiver on horseback, I find. But what is that?' And he pointed to a cloud of white dust, about a mile down the valley. 'A herd of antelopes? If so, G.o.d is indeed gracious to us! Come down-whatsoever they are, we have no time to lose.'

And collecting his scattered forces, Synesius pushed on rapidly towards the object which had attracted his attention.

'Antelopes!' cried one.

'Wild horses!' cried another.

'Tame ones, rather!' cried Synesius, with a gesture of wrath. 'I saw the flash of arms!'

'The Ausurians!' And a yell of rage rang from the whole troop.