The Woman Who Vowed (The Demetrian)

  CHAPTER X

  AN UNEXPECTED SOLUTION

  Chairo had been kept informed of what was happening to Lydia until thelast day of the Eleusinian festival, and he believed that all danger oflosing her was over. The appearance of Lydia, therefore, in theprocession wearing the yellow veil was all the more a stupefyingsurprise to him. I was standing with him and Ariston as the processionpassed, and was looking with eager and delighted interest at thegracefully draped figures that succeeded one another to the sound ofmusic, which, with a subtle combination of majesty and grace, combinedthe plain chant of the Catholic liturgy with the lighter fugues of Bach,for in and out of great chords there ran intermingling strains of manyvoices, very light and delicate.

  The procession was headed by girls and boys, selected for their perfectwholesomeness, who carried flowers and scattered them; they were dressedin the old Greek _chiton_ which, fastened only above the shoulder,betrayed every movement of their lithe young bodies, as, swaying withthe rhythm of the sower casting his seed, they threw their offeringsfirst on one side and then on the other. The governor of the State, themayor of the city, the commander of the militia, and their respectivecabinets and staffs followed, respectively arrayed in the insignia oftheir office; the other cults also were represented; those of Jupiterrobed in purple; those of Asclepius; those of Dionysus, and others. Instriking contrast with these came next the novices and the nuns, swathedclosely and heavily, even the head being concealed within a fold ofdrapery. The procession entered from the cloister, and on approachingthe altar where was kept burning the vestal flame, it divided so as toallow the high priest and his acolytes to pass up between. The highpriest was followed by the choir, and after the choir walked those whohad accepted the mission.

  It was upon these that the curiosity and impatience of the congregationcentered; it sometimes happened that there were none; in such case theprocession was closed by the Demetrians--that is to say, all who hadalready accepted the mission and completed it. On this occasion a singlefigure was seen to enter the portal, covered with the yellow veil andso draped as to conceal her features. The head, however, more usuallybowed, was erect. For a sensible period of suspense it was impossible totell who it was that had assumed the yellow shroud; but presently thosenearest to her had discovered Lydia, and her name passed in an awfulwhisper to where we stood. The name once pronounced, there could nolonger be mistake; Lydia alone of all the postulants could so holdherself: _Vera incessu patuit dea_. I felt a clutch at my arm, and,turning, saw the face of Chairo blanched and hard; but I was tooabsorbed in the procession to take long heed of him; I saw theprocession close, and followed the ritual with breathless interest tillthe congregation was dismissed, unaware that Chairo had already slippedaway from me and out of the temple.

  As Ariston and I walked back to our lodging I asked what Chairo woulddo. Ariston answered that he feared trouble. We were both deeplyaffected, for even Ariston, votary of Demeter though he was, could notbut feel as I did, that there was something in the choice of Lydiastrange and portentous. We discussed it in low voices, and for many dayslittle else was spoken of. Meanwhile, anxiety regarding the action ofChairo redoubled for he had disappeared. It was well known that theDemetrian council was taking steps, but no one knew what the steps were,and a sense of impending calamity weighed upon us all.

  From the moment Lydia had decided to accept the mission, there seemed togrow in her a strength that was not her own. She rose from the couch, onwhich she had thrown herself upon leaving Irene, without a symptom ofher old irresolution; she stood without sense of fatigue while theyellow shroud was so draped about her as to hide her face to the utmostpossible, for though she knew she could not escape recognition aninstinct in her set her upon the attempt to do so; and when in theprocession she entered the portals of the temple, a glow moved up fromher heart to her head that deeply flushed her countenance as she heardthe whisper "Lydia" grow from mouth to mouth into an almost angryprotestation. Nevertheless, she felt sure now that she was right; it waseasier as well as nobler to make the sacrifice than to yield. She walkedfirmly, with head erect, until she sank upon her knees before the altar,and the choir's triumphant processional was subdued in low responses tothe chant of the high priest.

  At last he turned to her and lifted his hands in mute suggestion thatshe should bring her tribute to the goddess. A Demetrian presented herthe flint which was to symbolize the strength of her sacrifice; thepriest gave her the steel that symbolized its cruelty; and striking oneagainst the other she lit a spark that added a new flame to the altar.This was the irrevocable act. A great sigh mingled with many sobs brokefrom those present in the temple; but _her_ eyes remained dry, and atthe close of the ceremony she walked back to the cloister as firmly asshe had left it.

  But once returned, there came upon her the inevitable reaction; shediscovered that the strength which had come upon her suddenly could noless suddenly forsake her; she threw herself upon a couch and asked tobe left alone. As the door closed upon her attendant she was halfastonished, half afraid to find sobs invade her and tears gush from hereyes. What did it all mean? Had she a will of her own, or was she merelythe arena upon which instincts, half of heredity, half of education,were fighting out their battle, independently of her? She seemed to havebecome a mere spectator of it; alas, she must also be its victim. Shelay sobbing until the sobs slowly died away, leaving her exhausted, andat last she slept like a tired child.

  The next morning she awoke as weak as though she had had a long fever.It was the custom for novices to be removed to a temple in an island offthe coast as soon as they accepted the mission--for, from the day ofacceptance they were secluded--living with Demetrians only, underconditions which, though compatible with their mission were,nevertheless, most conducive to gayety and health. But Lydia was tooweak to be moved; and she lay in her bed night and day, eating little,sleeping little, very quiet. There was hardly room in her thoughts forregret; she had committed the irrevocable act and now she must resignherself; her body had been exhausted by the struggle and cried for rest;and rest was given her.

  Slowly her strength returned, and she was beginning to feel the time hadcome to go to the island cloister when, suddenly in the middle of thenight, she was aware that some one had pushed aside the curtain at herdoor and was standing in her room. She had neither seen nor heardanything, but she was conscious of a presence, and a guilty delight inher heart told her, however incredible, that it was--Chairo.

  She raised herself in her bed on her hand and found herself seized in apassionate embrace.

  "For the love of God!" she heard his voice whisper to her, "don'tresist"; and compelling arms lifted her off her couch, wrapped the heavycoverings upon it about her, and carried her like a child out of theroom. She was taken into the cloister; her head was covered, and she didnot wish to see. The weakness which had racked her bones and from whichshe had barely recovered came back to her, but now how different! For itwrapped a lethargy about her to which it was an ecstasy to surrender; nopain now; no sorrow; not even contrition. She was in the arms of Chairo,and it had happened without a sign from her; almost against her will;without her consent. For a season, at any rate, Lydia surrenderedherself to the sweet self-deception that this had really all happenedwithout her consent. Deep in her heart, however, was the conviction thatshe had strength enough to resist had she chosen; that a single crywould have sufficed to thwart a desperate stratagem. She was a littlealarmed to find that this conviction could remain unshaken, and that,nevertheless, there was a song of thanksgiving in her heart that thestrength of resistance had remained unused and the cry remainedunuttered.

  Chairo's strong arms were about her as he silently hurried through thecloister. Lydia heard other hurrying steps besides his; he had clearlyjoined confederates; she was soon put into a carriage and whirled awayfrom the temple.