The Last Days of Pompeii
by Sir Edward Bulwer-Lytton
part of the Pompeii Series

THE SLAVE CONSULTS THE ORACLE THEY WHO BLIND THEMSELVES THE BLIND MAY FOOL TWO NEW PRISONERS MADE IN ONE NIGHT

IMPATIENTLY Nydia awaited the arrival of the no less anxious Sosia. Fortifying his courage by plentiful potations of a better liquor than that provided for the demon, the credulous ministrant stole into the blind girl's chamber.

Well, Sosia, and art thou prepared? Hast thou the bowl of pure water?"

Verily, yes ; but I tremble a little. You are sure I shall not see the demon? I have heard that those gentlemen are by no means of a handsome person or a civil demeanor."

Be assured! And hast thou left the garden-gate gently open?"

Yes ; and placed some beautiful nuts and apples on a little table close by."

That's well. And the gate is open now, so that the demon may pass through it?"

Surely it is."

"Well, then, open this door ; there leave it just ajar, And now, Sosia, give me the lamp."

What ! you will not extinguish it?"

"No : but I must breathe my spell over its ray. There is a spirit in fire. Seat thyself.

The slave obeyed; and Nydia, after bending for some moments silently over the lamp, rose and in a low voice chanted the following rude INVOCATION TO THE SPECTER OF THE AIR.

Loved alike by Air and Water, Ay must be Thessalia's daughter ;

To us, Olympian hearts are given, Spells that draw the moon from heaven.

All that Egypt's learning wrought All that Persia's Magian taught Won from song, or wrung from flowers, Or whisper'd low by fiend are ours.

Specter of the viewless air, Hear the blind Thessalian's prayer ;

By Erictho's art, that shed, Dews of life when life was fled:

By lone Ithaca's wise king, Who could wake the crystal spring,

To the voice of prophecy, By the lost Eurydice,

Summon'd from the shadowy throng, At the muse-son's magic song By the Colchian's awful charms, When fair-hair'd Jason left her arms;

Specter of the airy halls, One who owns thee duly calls!

Breathe along the brimming bowl, And instruct the fearful soul,

In the shadowy things that lie, Dark in dim futurity.

Come, wild demon of the air, Answer to thy votary's prayer Come ! oh, come !

And no god on heaven or earth Not the Paphian Queen of Mirth,

Nor the vivid Lord of Light, Nor the triple maid of Night,

Nor the Thunderer's self, shall be Blest and honor'd more than thee.

Come ! oh, come !

The specter is certainly coming," said Sosia. I feel him running along my hair!"

"Place thy bowl of water on the ground. Now, then, give me thy napkin, and let me fold up thy face and eyes." Ay! that's always the custom these charms. Not so tight, though; gently gently!

"There thou, canst not see?"

"See, by Jupiter! No! nothing but darkness."

Address, then, to the specter whatever question thou wouldst ask him, in a low-whispered voice, three times. If thy question is answered in the affirmative, thou wilt hear the water ferment and bubble before the demon breathes upon it; if in the negative, the water will be quite silent."

But you will not play any trick with the water, eh?"

"Let me place the bowl under thy feet so. Now thou will perceive that I cannot touch it without thy knowledge."

Very fair. Now, then, O Bacchus ! befriend me. Thou knowest that I have always loved thee better than all the other gods, and I will dedicate to thee that silver cup I stole last year from the burly carptor (butler), if thou wilt but befriend me with this water-loving demon. And thou, O Spirit! listen and hear me. Shall I be enabled to purchase my freedom next year? Thou knowest; for, as thou livest in the air, the birds have doubtless acquainted thee with every secret of this house thou knowest that I have filched and pilfered all that I honestly that is, safely could lay fingers upon for the last three years, and I yet want two thousand sesterces of the full sum. Shall I be able, 0 good Spirit! to make up the deficiency in the course of this year? Speak Ha! does the water bubble? No; all is as still as a tomb. Well, then, if not this year in two years? Ah! I hear something ; the demon is scratching at the door ; he'll be here presently. In two years, my good fellow? come now, two; that's a very reasonable time. What' dumb still! Two years and a half three four? Ill fortune to you, friend demon! You are not a lady, that's clear, or you would not keep silence so long. Five, six, sixty years? and may Plato seize you! I'll ask no more."' And Sosia, in a rage, kicked down the water over his legs. He then, after much fumbling, and more cursing, managed to extricate his head from the napkin in which it was completely folded stared round and discovered that he was in the dark.

" What, ho! Nydia ; the lamp is gone. Ah, traitress; and thou art gone too ; but I'll catch thee thou shalt smart for this!"

The slave groped his way to the door; it was bolted from without; he was a prisoner instead of Nydia. What could he do? He did not dare to knock loud--to call out lest Arbaces should overhear him, and discover how he had been duped ; and Nydia, meanwhile, had probably already gained the garden-gate, and was fast on her escape.

" But," thought he, " she will go home, or, at least, be somewhere in the city. To-morrow, at dawn, when the slaves are at work in the peristyle, I can make myself heard; then I can go forth and seek her. I shall be sure to find and bring her back before Arbaces knows a word of the matter. Ah! that's the best plan. Little traitress, my fingers itch at thee; and to leave only a bowl of water, too. Had it been wine, it would have been some comfort."

While Sosia, thus entrapped, was lamenting his fate, and revolving his schemes to repossess himself of Nydia, the blind girl, with that singular precision and dexterous rapidity of motion, which, we have before observed, was peculiar to her, had passed lightly along the peristyle, threaded the opposite passage that led into the garden, and, with a beating heart, was about to proceed toward the gate, when she suddenly heard the sound of approaching steps, and distinguished the dreaded voice of Arbaces himself. She paused for a moment in doubt and terror; then suddenly it flashed across her recollection that there was another passage which was little used except for the admission of the fair partakers of the Egyptian's secret revels, and which wound along the basement of that massive fabric toward a door which also communicated with the garden. By good fortune it might be open. At that thought, she hastily retraced her steps, descended the narrow stairs at the right, and was soon at the entrance of the passage. Alas! the door at the entrance was closed and secured. While she was yet assuring herself that it was indeed locked, she heard behind her the voice of Calenus, and, a moment after, that of Arbaces in low reply. She could not stay there; they were probably passing to that very door. She sprang onward, and found herself in unknown ground. The air grew damp and chill; this reassured her. She thought she might be among the cellars of the luxurious mansion, or, at least, in some rude spot not likely to be visited by its haughty lord, when, again, her quick ear caught the steps and the sound of voices. On, on, she hurried, extending her arms, which now frequently encountered pillars of thick and massive form. With a tact, doubled in acuteness by her fear, she escaped these perils and continued her way, the air growing more and more damp as she proceeded; yet, still, as she ever and anon paused for breath, she heard the advancing steps and the indistinct murmur of voices. At length she was abruptly stopped by a wall that seemed the limit of her path. Was there no spot in which she could hide? No aperture? no cavity? There was none! She stopped and wrung her hands in despair ; then again, nerved as the voices neared upon her, she hurried on by the side of the wall; and coming suddenly against one of the sharp buttresses that here and there jutted boldly forth, she fell to the ground. Though much bruised, her senses did not leave her; she uttered no cry; nay, she hailed the accident that had led her to something like a screen; and creeping close up to the angle formed by the buttress, so that or, one side at least she was sheltered from view, she gathered her slight and small form into its smallest compass, and breathlessly awaited her fate.