您的位置 : 首页 > 英文著作
Ayesha
CHAPTER VI - IN THE GATE
H.Rider Haggard
下载:Ayesha.txt
本书全文检索:
       _ Oh! that rush through space! Folk falling thus are supposed to lose
       consciousness, but I can assert that this is not true. Never were my
       wits and perceptions more lively than while I travelled from that
       broken glacier to the ground, and never did a short journey seem to
       take a longer time. I saw the white floor, like some living thing,
       leaping up through empty air to meet me, then--/finis!/
       Crash! Why, what was this? I still lived. I was in water, for I could
       feel its chill, and going down, down, till I thought I should never
       rise again. But rise I did, though my lungs were nigh to bursting
       first. As I floated up towards the top I remembered the crash, which
       told me that I had passed through ice. Therefore I should meet ice at
       the surface again. Oh! to think that after surviving so much I must be
       drowned like a kitten and beneath a sheet of ice. My hands touched it.
       There it was above me shining white like glass. Heaven be praised! My
       head broke through; in this low and sheltered gorge it was but a film
       no thicker than a penny formed by the light frost of the previous
       night. So I rose from the deep and stared about me, treading water
       with my feet.
       Then I saw the gladdest sight that ever my eyes beheld, for on the
       right, not ten yards away, the water running from his hair and beard,
       was Leo. Leo alive, for he broke the thin ice with his arms as he
       struggled towards the shore from the deep river.[*] He saw me also,
       and his grey eyes seemed to start out of his head.
       [*] Usually, as we learned afterwards, the river at this spot was
       quite shallow; only a foot or two in depth. It was the avalanche
       that by damming it with fallen heaps of snow had raised its level
       very many feet. Therefore, to this avalanche, which had threatened
       to destroy us, we in reality owed our lives, for had the stream
       stood only at its normal height we must have been dashed to pieces
       upon the stones.--L. H. H.
       "Still living, both of us, and the precipice passed!" he shouted in a
       ringing, exultant voice. "I told you we were led."
       "Aye, but whither?" I answered as I too fought my way through the film
       of ice.
       Then it was I became aware that we were no longer alone, for on the
       bank of the river, some thirty yards from us, stood two figures, a man
       leaning upon a long staff and a woman. He was a very old man, for his
       eyes were horny, his snow-white hair and beard hung upon the bent
       breast and shoulders, and his sardonic, wrinkled features were yellow
       as wax. They might have been those of a death mask cut in marble.
       There, clad in an ample, monkish robe, and leaning upon the staff, he
       stood still as a statue and watched us. I noted it all, every detail,
       although at the time I did not know that I was doing so, as we broke
       our way through the ice towards them and afterwards the picture came
       back to me. Also I saw that the woman, who was very tall, pointed to
       us.
       Nearer the bank, or rather to the rock edge of the river, its surface
       was free of ice, for here the stream ran very swiftly. Seeing this, we
       drew close together and swam on side by side to help each other if
       need were. There was much need, for in the fringe of the torrent the
       strength that had served me so long seemed to desert me, and I became
       helpless; numbed, too, with the biting coldness of the water. Indeed,
       had not Leo grasped my clothes I think that I should have been swept
       away by the current to perish. Thus aided I fought on a while, till he
       said--
       "I am going under. Hold to the rope end."
       So I gripped the strip of yak's hide that was still fast about him,
       and, his hand thus freed, Leo made a last splendid effort to keep us
       both, cumbered as we were with the thick, soaked garments that dragged
       us down like lead, from being sucked beneath the surface. Moreover, he
       succeeded where any other swimmer of less strength must have failed.
       Still, I believe that we should have drowned, since here the water ran
       like a mill-race, had not the man upon the shore, seeing our plight
       and urged thereto by the woman, run with surprising swiftness in one
       so aged, to a point of rock that jutted some yards into the stream,
       past which we were being swept, and seating himself, stretched out his
       long stick towards us.
       With a desperate endeavour, Leo grasped it as we went by, rolling over
       and over each other, and held on. Round we swung into the eddy, found
       our feet, were knocked down again, rubbed and pounded on the rocks.
       But still gripping that staff of salvation, to his end of which the
       old man clung like a limpet to a stone, while the woman clung to him,
       we recovered ourselves, and, sheltered somewhat by the rock,
       floundered towards the shore. Lying on his face--for we were still in
       great danger--the man extended his arm. We could not reach it; and
       worse, suddenly the staff was torn from him; we were being swept away.
       Then it was that the woman did a noble thing, for springing into the
       water--yes, up to her armpits--and holding fast to the old man by her
       left hand, with the right she seized Leo's hair and dragged him
       shorewards. Now he found his feet for a moment, and throwing one arm
       about her slender form, steadied himself thus, while with the other he
       supported me. Next followed a long confused struggle, but the end of
       it was that three of us, the old man, Leo and I, rolled in a heap upon
       the bank and lay there gasping.
       Presently I looked up. The woman stood over us, water streaming from
       her garments, staring like one in a dream at Leo's face, smothered as
       it was with blood running from a deep cut in his head. Even then I
       noticed how stately and beautiful she was. Now she seemed to awake
       and, glancing at the robes that clung to her splendid shape, said
       something to her companion, then turned and ran towards the cliff.
       As we lay before him, utterly exhausted, the old man, who had risen,
       contemplated us solemnly with his dim eyes. He spoke, but we did not
       understand. Again he tried another language and without success. A
       third time and our ears were opened, for the tongue he used was Greek;
       yes, there in Central Asia he addressed us in Greek, not very pure, it
       is true, but still Greek.
       "Are you wizards," he said, "that you have lived to reach this land?"
       "Nay," I answered in the same tongue, though in broken words--since of
       Greek I had thought little for many a year--"for then we should have
       come otherwise," and I pointed to our hurts and the precipice behind
       us.
       "They know the ancient speech; it is as we were told from the
       Mountain," he muttered to himself. Then he asked--
       "Strangers, what seek you?"
       Now I grew cunning and did not answer, fearing lest, should he learn
       the truth, he would thrust us back into the river. But Leo had no such
       caution, or rather all reason had left him; he was light-headed.
       "We seek," he stuttered out--his Greek, which had always been feeble,
       now was simply barbarous and mixed with various Thibetan dialects--"we
       seek the land of the Fire Mountain that is crowned with the Sign of
       Life."
       The man stared at us. "So you know," he said, then broke off and
       added, "and /whom/ do you seek?"
       "Her," answered Leo wildly, "the Queen." I think that he meant to say
       the priestess, or the goddess, but could only think of the Greek for
       Queen, or rather something resembling it. Or perhaps it was because
       the woman who had gone looked like a queen.
       "Oh!" said the man, "you seek a queen--then you /are/ those for whom
       we were bidden to watch. Nay, how can I be sure?"
       "Is this a time to put questions?" I gasped angrily. "Answer me one
       rather: who are you?"
       "I? Strangers, my title is Guardian of the Gate, and the lady who was
       with me is the Khania of Kaloon."
       At this point Leo began to faint.
       "That man is sick," said the Guardian, "and now that you have got your
       breath again, you must have shelter, both of you, and at once. Come,
       help me."
       So, supporting Leo on either side, we dragged ourselves away from that
       accursed cliff and Styx-like river up a narrow, winding gorge.
       Presently it opened out, and there, stretching across the glade, we
       saw the Gate. Of this all I observed then, for my memory of the
       details of this scene and of the conversation that passed is very weak
       and blurred, was that it seemed to be a mighty wall of rock in which a
       pathway had been hollowed where doubtless once passed the road. On one
       side of this passage was a stair, which we began to ascend with great
       difficulty, for Leo was now almost senseless and scarcely moved his
       legs. Indeed at the head of the first flight he sank down in a heap,
       nor did our strength suffice to lift him.
       While I wondered feebly what was to be done, I heard footsteps, and
       looking up, saw the woman who had saved him descending the stair, and
       after her two robed men with a Tartar cast of countenance, very
       impassive; small eyes and yellowish skin. Even the sight of us did not
       appear to move them to astonishment. She spoke some words to them,
       whereon they lifted Leo's heavy frame, apparently with ease, and
       carried him up the steps.
       We followed, and reached a room that seemed to be hewn from the rock
       above the gateway, where the woman called Khania left us. From it we
       passed through other rooms, one of them a kind of kitchen, in which a
       fire burned, till we came to a large chamber, evidently a sleeping
       place, for in it were wooden bedsteads, mattresses and rugs. Here Leo
       was laid down, and with the assistance of one of his servants, the old
       Guardian undressed him, at the same time motioning me to take off my
       own garments. This I did gladly enough for the first time during many
       days, though with great pain and difficulty, to find that I was a mass
       of wounds and bruises.
       Presently our host blew upon a whistle, and the other servant appeared
       bringing hot water in a jar, with which we were washed over. Then the
       Guardian dressed our hurts with some soothing ointment, and wrapped us
       round with blankets. After this broth was brought, into which he mixed
       medicine, and giving me a portion to drink where I lay upon one of the
       beds, he took Leo's head upon his knee and poured the rest of it down
       his throat. Instantly a wonderful warmth ran through me, and my aching
       brain began to swim. Then I remembered no more.
       After this we were very, very ill. What may be the exact medical
       definition of our sickness I do not know, but in effect it was such as
       follows loss of blood, extreme exhaustion of body, paralysing shock to
       the nerves and extensive cuts and contusions. These taken together
       produced a long period of semi-unconsciousness, followed by another
       period of fever and delirium. All that I can recall of those weeks
       while we remained the guests of the Guardian of the Gate, may be
       summed up in one word--dreams, that is until at last I recovered my
       senses.
       The dreams themselves are forgotten, which is perhaps as well, since
       they were very confused, and for the most part awful; a hotch-potch of
       nightmares, reflected without doubt from vivid memories of our recent
       and fearsome sufferings. At times I would wake up from them a little,
       I suppose when food was administered to me, and receive impressions of
       whatever was passing in the place. Thus I can recollect that yellow-
       faced old Guardian standing over me like a ghost in the moonlight,
       stroking his long beard, his eyes fixed upon my face, as though he
       would search out the secrets of my soul.
       "They are the men," he muttered to himself, "without doubt they are
       the men," then walked to the window and looked up long and earnestly,
       like one who studies the stars.
       After this I remember a disturbance in the room, and dominating it, as
       it were, the rich sound of a woman's voice and the rustle of a woman's
       silks sweeping the stone floor. I opened my eyes and saw that it was
       she who had helped to rescue us, who /had/ rescued us in fact, a tall
       and noble-looking lady with a beauteous, weary face and liquid eyes
       which seemed to burn. From the heavy cloak she wore I thought that she
       must have just returned from a journey.
       She stood above me and looked at me, then turned away with a gesture
       of indifference, if not of disgust, speaking to the Guardian in a low
       voice. By way of answer he bowed, pointing to the other bed where Leo
       lay, asleep, and thither she passed with slow, imperious movements. I
       saw her bend down and lift the corner of a wrapping which covered his
       wounded head, and heard her utter some smothered words before she
       turned round to the Guardian as though to question him further.
       But he had gone, and being alone, for she thought me senseless, she
       drew a rough stool to the side of the bed, and seating herself studied
       Leo, who lay thereon, with an earnestness that was almost terrible,
       for her soul seemed to be concentrated in her eyes, and to find
       expression through them. Long she gazed thus, then rose and began to
       walk swiftly up and down the chamber, pressing her hands now to her
       bosom and now to her brow, a certain passionate perplexity stamped
       upon her face, as though she struggled to remember something and could
       not.
       "Where and when?" she whispered. "Oh! where and when?"
       Of the end of that scene I know nothing, for although I fought hard
       against it, oblivion mastered me. After this I became aware that the
       regal-looking woman called Khania, was always in the room, and that
       she seemed to be nursing Leo with great care and tenderness. Sometimes
       even she nursed me when Leo did not need attention, and she had
       nothing else to do, or so her manner seemed to suggest. It was as
       though I excited her curiosity, and she wished me to recover that it
       might be satisfied.
       Again I awoke, how long afterwards I cannot say. It was night, and the
       room was lighted by the moon only, now shining in a clear sky. Its
       steady rays entering at the window-place fell on Leo's bed, and by
       them I saw that the dark, imperial woman was watching at his side.
       Some sense of her presence must have communicated itself to him, for
       he began to mutter in his sleep, now in English, now in Arabic. She
       became intensely interested; as her every movement showed. Then rising
       suddenly she glided across the room on tiptoe to look at me. Seeing
       her coming I feigned to be asleep, and so well that she was deceived.
       For I was also interested. Who was this lady whom the Guardian had
       called the Khania of Kaloon? Could it be she whom we sought? Why not?
       And yet if I saw Ayesha, surely I should know her, surely there would
       be no room for doubt.
       Back she went again to the bed, kneeling down beside Leo, and in the
       intense silence which followed--for he had ceased his mutterings--I
       thought that I could hear the beating of her heart. Now she began to
       speak, very low and in that same bastard Greek tongue, mixed here and
       there with Mongolian words such as are common to the dialects of
       Central Asia. I could not hear or understand all she said, but some
       sentences I did understand, and they frightened me not a little.
       "Man of my dreams," she murmured, "whence come you? Who are you? Why
       did the Hesea bid me to meet you?" Then some sentences I could not
       catch. "You sleep; in sleep the eyes are opened. Answer, I bid you;
       say what is the bond between you and me? Why have I dreamt of you? Why
       do I know you? Why----?" and the sweet, rich voice died slowly from a
       whisper into silence, as though she were ashamed to utter what was on
       her tongue.
       As she bent over him a lock of her hair broke loose from its jewelled
       fillet and fell across his face. At its touch Leo seemed to wake, for
       he lifted his gaunt, white hand and touched the hair, then said in
       English--
       "Where am I? Oh! I remember;" and their eyes met as he strove to lift
       himself and could not. Then he spoke again in his broken, stumbling
       Greek, "You are the lady who saved me from the water. Say, are you
       also that queen whom I have sought so long and endured so much to
       find?"
       "I know not," she answered in a voice as sweet as honey, a low,
       trembling voice; "but true it is I am a queen--if a Khania be a
       queen."
       "Say, then, Queen, do you remember me?"
       "We have met in dreams," she answered, "I think that we have met in a
       past that is far away. Yes; I knew it when first I saw you there by
       the river. Stranger with the well remembered face, tell me, I pray
       you, how you are named?"
       "Leo Vincey."
       She shook her head, whispering--
       "I know not the name, yet you I know."
       "You know me! How do you know me?" he said heavily, and seemed to sink
       again into slumber or swoon.
       She watched him for a while very intently. Then as though some force
       that she could not resist drew her, I saw her bend down her head over
       his sleeping face. Yes; and I saw her kiss him swiftly on the lips,
       then spring back crimson to the hair, as though overwhelmed with shame
       at this victory of her mad passion.
       Now it was that she discovered me.
       Bewildered, fascinated, amazed, I had raised myself upon my bed, not
       knowing it; I suppose that I might see and hear the better. It was
       wrong, doubtless, but no common curiosity over-mastered me, who had my
       share in all this story. More, it was foolish, but illness and wonder
       had killed my reason.
       Yes, she saw me watching them, and such fury seemed to take hold of
       her that I thought my hour had come.
       "Man, have you dared----?" she said in an intense whisper, and
       snatching at her girdle. Now in her hand shone a knife, and I knew
       that it was destined for my heart. Then in this sore danger my wit
       came back to me and as she advanced I stretched out my shaking hand,
       saying--
       "Oh! of your pity, give me to drink. The fever burns me, it burns,"
       and I looked round like one bewildered who sees not, repeating, "Give
       me drink, you who are called Guardian," and I fell back exhausted.
       She stopped like a hawk in its stoop, and swiftly sheathed the dagger.
       Then taking a bowl of milk that stood on a table near her, she held it
       to my lips, searching my face the while with her flaming eyes, for
       indeed passion, rage, and fear had lit them till they seemed to flame.
       I drank the milk in great gulps, though never in my life did I find it
       more hard to swallow.
       "You tremble," she said; "have dreams haunted you?"
       "Aye, friend," I answered, "dreams of that fearsome precipice and of
       the last leap."
       "Aught else?" she asked.
       "Nay; is it not enough? Oh! what a journey to have taken to befriend a
       queen."
       "To befriend a queen," she repeated puzzled. "What means the man? You
       swear you have had no other dreams?"
       "Aye, I swear by the Symbol of Life and the Mount of the Wavering
       Flame, and by yourself, O Queen from the ancient days."
       Then I sighed and pretended to swoon, for I could think of nothing
       else to do. As I closed my eyes I saw her face that had been red as
       dawn turn pale as eve, for my words and all which might lie behind
       them, had gone home. Moreover, she was in doubt, for I could hear her
       fingering the handle of the dagger. Then she spoke aloud, words for my
       ears if they still were open.
       "I am glad," she said, "that he dreamed no other dreams, since had he
       done so and babbled of them it would have been ill-omened, and I do
       not wish that one who has travelled far to visit us should be hurled
       to the death-dogs for burial; one, moreover, who although old and
       hideous, still has the air of a wise and silent man."
       Now while I shivered at these unpleasant hints--though what the
       "death-dogs" in which people were buried might be, I could not
       conceive--to my intense joy I heard the foot of the Guardian on the
       stairs, heard him too enter the room and saw him bow before the lady.
       "How go these sick men, niece?"[*] he said in his cold voice.
       [*] I found later that the Khania, Atene, was not Simbri's niece but
       his great-niece, on the mother's side.--L. H. H.
       "They swoon, both of them," she answered.
       "Indeed, is it so? I thought otherwise. I thought they woke."
       "What have you heard, Shaman (i.e. wizard)?" she asked angrily.
       "I? Oh! I heard the grating of a dagger in its sheath and the distant
       baying of the death-hounds."
       "And what have you seen, Shaman?" she asked again, "looking through
       the Gate you guard?"
       "Strange sight, Khania, my niece. But--men awake from swoons."
       "Aye," she answered, "so while this one sleeps, bear him to another
       chamber, for he needs change, and the lord yonder needs more space and
       untainted air."
       The Guardian, whom she called "Shaman" or Magician, held a lamp in his
       hand, and by its light it was easy to see his face, which I watched
       out of the corner of my eye. I thought that it wore a very strange
       expression, one moreover that alarmed me somewhat. From the beginning
       I had misdoubted me of this old man, whose cast of countenance was
       vindictive as it was able; now I was afraid of him.
       "To which chamber, Khania?" he said with meaning.
       "I think," she answered slowly, "to one that is healthful, where he
       will recover. The man has wisdom," she added as though in explanation,
       "moreover, having the word from the Mountain, to harm him would be
       dangerous. But why do you ask?"
       He shrugged his shoulders.
       "I tell you I heard the death-hounds bay, that is all. Yes, with you I
       think that he has wisdom, and the bee which seeks honey should suck
       the flower--before it fades! Also, as you say, there are commands with
       which it is ill to trifle, even if we cannot guess their meaning."
       Then going to the door he blew upon his whistle, and instantly I heard
       the feet of his servants upon the stairs. He gave them an order, and
       gently enough they lifted the mattress on which I lay and followed him
       down sundry passages and past some stairs into another chamber shaped
       like that we had left, but not so large, where they placed me upon a
       bed.
       The Guardian watched me awhile to see that I did not wake. Next he
       stretched out his hand and felt my heart and pulse; an examination the
       results of which seemed to /puzzle/ him, for he uttered a little
       exclamation and shook his head. After this he left the room, and I
       heard him bolt the door behind him. Then, being still very weak, I
       fell asleep in earnest.
       When I awoke it was broad daylight. My mind was clear and I felt
       better than I had done for many a day, signs by which I knew that the
       fever had left me and that I was on the high road to recovery. Now I
       remembered all the events of the previous night and was able to weigh
       them carefully. This, to be sure, I did for many reasons, among them
       that I knew I had been and still was, in great danger.
       I had seen and heard too much, and this woman called Khania guessed
       that I had seen and heard. Indeed, had it not been for my hints about
       the Symbol of Life and the Mount of Flame, after I had disarmed her
       first rage by my artifice, I felt sure that she would have ordered the
       old Guardian or Shaman to do me to death in this way or the other;
       sure also that he would not have hesitated to obey her. I had been
       spared partly because, for some unknown reason, she was afraid to kill
       me, and partly that she might learn how much I knew, although the
       "death-hounds had bayed," whatever that might mean. Well, up to the
       present I was safe, and for the rest I must take my chance. Moreover
       it was necessary to be cautious, and, if need were, to feign
       ignorance. So, dismissing the matter of my own fate from my mind, I
       fell to considering the scene which I had witnessed and what might be
       its purport.
       Was our quest at an end? Was this woman Ayesha? Leo had so dreamed,
       but he was still delirious, therefore here was little on which to
       lean. What seemed more to the point was that she herself evidently
       appeared to think that there existed some tie between her and this
       sick man. Why had she embraced him? I was sure that she could be no
       wanton, nor indeed would any woman indulge for its own sake in such
       folly with a stranger who hung between life and death. What she had
       done was done because irresistible impulse, born of knowledge, or at
       least of memories, drove her on, though mayhap the knowledge was
       imperfect and the memories were undefined. Who save Ayesha could have
       known anything of Leo in the past? None who lived upon the earth
       to-day.
       And yet, why not, if what Kou-en the abbot and tens of millions of his
       fellow-worshippers believed were true? If the souls of human beings
       were in fact strictly limited in number, and became the tenants of an
       endless succession of physical bodies which they change from time to
       time as we change our worn-out garments, why should not others have
       known him? For instance that daughter of the Pharaohs who "caused him
       through love to break the vows that he had vowed" knew a certain
       Kallikrates, a priest of "Isis whom the gods cherish and the demons
       obey;" even Amenartas, the mistress of magic.
       Oh! now a light seemed to break upon me, a wonderful light. What if
       Amenartas and this Khania, this woman with royalty stamped on every
       feature, should be the same? Would not that "magic of my own people
       that I have" of which she wrote upon the Sherd, enable her to pierce
       the darkness of the Past and recognize the priest whom she had
       bewitched to love her, snatching him out of the very hand of the
       goddess? What if it were not Ayesha, but Amenartas re-incarnate who
       ruled this hidden land and once more sought to make the man she loved
       break through his vows? If so, knowing the evil that must come, I
       shook even at its shadow. The truth must be learned, but how?
       Whilst I wondered the door opened, and the sardonic, inscrutable-old-
       faced man, whom this Khania had called Magician, and who called the
       Khania, niece, entered and stood before me. _