The Mercy of the Lord. Flora Annie Webster Steel
leaves as the snakes slid soft in the darkness made even the wine bibbers think, so that secret and soft as the snakes in the thickets they crept back to safety; till there--in the darkness, the fragrance of flowers, but one man remained, a man who grew old! Beautiful, tired of the life he had squandered, and reckless, yet angered because of the girl who had wasted to death--a girl he had paid for.
"'Cowards!' he said with a smile, and crept on in the dark. A rustle, but not of a snake! In the leaves a faint glimmer of white, and a voice--such a beautiful voice!
"'In this garden of women what seek you, my lord?'
"'I seek you, for your death.' But as swift as his hand with the dagger, around him there rose in a shimmering shelter the wide-hooded curves of the serpents, their still, watchful eyes giving out a cold gleaming that shone like a halo about her.
"'What harm have I done?' Such a beautiful voice! 'Come and see, if you will.'
"On his head fell the spent leaves of roses, the frail stars of jasmine were hers as she dragged herself on, and he followed through darkness and fragrance and flowers. The serpents lay thick on the threshold; she stayed them with this:
"'Wait, friends, till he touches me.'
"Opened the door and said scornfully:
"'There stands my charm.'
"The dim light of the cresset showed emptiness save for yon ball with its legend ('tis scratched, as you see, in the shape of a snake, sahib). She read it aloud, and then turned to him:
"'Yea! that is all! I appeal to the God of the Battle of Life, and I call unto Him to have mercy, have mercy, have mercy--What mercy He chooses----'
"Her voice sank to silence. The cresset's dim light showed the folds of her veiling to him, and to her showed his beauty of face as he knelt to her crippledom.
"'Mercy!'--his voice was a whisper--'have mercy--the charm lies within--let me see it. … '
"His hand sought the folds of her veil and, responsive, the shelter of snakes rose about her.
"'Wait, friends, till he touches me!'
"Swift, with quick fear in it, came the stern warning, and then there was silence.
"Oh! beautiful night with spent stars of the jasmine, spent leaves of the roses, spent life nigh to death 'mid its darkness, its fragrance.
"Oh! beautiful face, free of veiling with spent stars of eyes and spent rose leaves of lips.
"'My beloved!'
"Like a sigh came the whisper, and slowly as stars in the evening their eyes grew to brightness, and closer and closer their lips grew to kisses.
"'Wait, friends, till he touches me.'
"That was her order, and swift to the second, the snakes struck between them.
"Oh, beautiful death by the kiss of a lover! Oh, merciful poison of passion."
The sing-song ceased, and, as if to take its place, the first notes of the Liebestraum waltz sounded from the rose and jasmine thicket in which the band had been concealed.
"That's a mercy of the Lord, anyhow," laughed some young Philistine. "I thought they'd never stop, or the band begin!"
In a moment the listening circle had changed into an eager hurrying of couples towards the dancing floor.
But young Bertram still sat on the pilaster nursing the old bronze ball, his glad young face strangely sober.
"I think this is our dance," said the Paris frock, in a voice of icy allurement which positively rasped my nerves.
Young Bertram sprang to the ground hastily.
"I beg your pardon! By George, what's that?"
He had upset one of the snake charmer's flat baskets, and there was a general stampede as the occupants slid out.
"Don't be alarmed," I cried, "they always have their fangs drawn, and he will get them back in a moment."
Even as I spoke the hollow quavering of the charmer's gourd flute began, and three snakes stayed their flight to sit up on their tails and sway drowsily to the rhythm.
"There was a fourth one, wasn't there?" said young Bertram. "It slipped our way, didn't it?"
He spoke to the Paris frock, which had taken refuge on the opposite pilaster, so that the whole expanse of the wide marble steps now lay between them.
"Huzoor, no!" interrupted the owner of the snakes, hastily, "there were but three--there could only have been three--for see! my serpents obey me."
He was slipping the brutes back to prison again as he spoke, but I noticed his eyes were restless.
"Are you quite sure?" I asked.
He gave me a furtive glance, then carelessly held up a loathsome five-footer. "Cobras like these are very easily counted, Huzoor; besides, as the Presence said, they are all fangless."
The one whose jaws he as carelessly prized open certainly was, and I should have dismissed doubt had not young Bertram at that moment taken up the flute gourd, and with the gay remark, "Let me have a shot at it," commenced--out of fastidiousness as to the mouthpiece, no doubt--to blow into it upside down.
I never saw fear better expressed in any face than on the snake charmer's when he heard the indescribable sound which echoed out into the garden. It grew green as without the least ceremony he snatched the instrument away.
"The Presence must not do that--the snakes do not like strangers."
Young Bertram laughed, "Nor the noise, I expect! The beastly thing makes a worse row wrong side up than right--doesn't it?"
What the Paris frock replied I do not know, as they were already hurrying up to make the most of the remaining dance.
Not that there was any necessity for hurry to judge by the number of times I saw his white raiment and her fancy frills floating round together during the next hour or so.
The Adjutant--a man I particularly disliked (possibly because he seemed to me the antithesis of young Bertram)--remarked on it also when he found me out seeking solitude in one of the latticed minarets.
"Going it!" he said, cynically. "He won't be quite such a young fool when he comes down from the hills."
I turned on him in absolute dismay. "The hills? but surely you're going on service?"
The Adjutant shrugged his shoulders. "Someone has to take over, and he'll soon console himself."
I felt I could have kicked him, and was glad that the "Roast Beef" called me to my duties as host.
They had laid the supper table where we had listened to the snake charmer's chant; somehow through all the laughter I seemed to hear that refrain going on: "Oh! God of the Battle! have mercy! have mercy! have mercy!"
What mercy would she show him? None. And what chance would he have in an atmosphere like that of Semoorie? None. Even the husband, whom rumour said was bullet-headed to some purpose, would be away.
We were very merry in spite, or perhaps because of, an insistent trend of thought towards impending change, and I was just about to propose the health of my guests with due discreet allusion to the still doubtful future when it was settled by the appearance of a telegraph peon.
In the instant hush which followed, I observed irrelevantly that our brief feasting had made a horrid mess of what not half an hour before had seemed food for the gods!
Then the Colonel looked up with a grim conscious smile which fitted ill with the fragrant lantern-lit garden behind him.
"The route has come, gentlemen, we start to-morrow at noon."
He checked a quick start to their feet on the part of some of the youngsters by addressing himself to