CHAPTER XXXVI
MOTHER AND DAUGHTER
Lona was so disgusted with the people, and especially with the
women, that she wished to abandon the place as soon as possible; I,
on the contrary, felt very strongly that to do so would be to fail
wilfully where success was possible; and, far worse, to weaken the
hearts of the Little Ones, and so bring them into much greater
danger. If we retreated, it was certain the princess would not
leave us unassailed! if we encountered her, the hope of the prophecy
went with us! Mother and daughter must meet: it might be that
Lona's loveliness would take Lilith's heart by storm! if she
threatened violence, I should be there between them! If I found
that I had no other power over her, I was ready, for the sake of my
Lona, to strike her pitilessly on the closed hand! I knew she was
doomed: most likely it was decreed that her doom should now be
brought to pass through us!
Still without hint of the relation in which she stood to the
princess, I stated the case to Lona as it appeared to me. At once
she agreed to accompany me to the palace.
>From the top of one of its great towers, the princess had, in the
early morning, while the city yet slept, descried the approach of the
army of the Little Ones. The sight awoke in her an over-mastering
terror: she had failed in her endeavour to destroy them, and they
were upon her! The prophecy was about to be fulfilled!
When she came to herself, she descended to the black hall, and
seated herself in the north focus of the ellipse, under the opening
in the roof.
For she must think! Now what she called THINKING required a clear
consciousness of herself, not as she was, but as she chose to
believe herself; and to aid her in the realisation of this
consciousness, she had suspended, a little way from and above her,
itself invisible in the darkness of the hall, a mirror to receive
the full sunlight reflected from her person. For the resulting
vision of herself in the splendour of her beauty, she sat waiting
the meridional sun.
Many a shadow moved about her in the darkness, but as often as, with
a certain inner eye which she had, she caught sight of one, she
refused to regard it. Close under the mirror stood the Shadow which
attended her walks, but, self-occupied, him she did not see.
The city was taken; the inhabitants were cowering in terror; the
Little Ones and their strange cavalry were encamped in the square;
the sun shone upon the princess, and for a few minutes she saw
herself glorious. The vision passed, but she sat on. The night was
now come, and darkness clothed and filled the glass, yet she did not
move. A gloom that swarmed with shadows, wallowed in the palace;
the servants shivered and shook, but dared not leave it because of
the beasts of the Little Ones; all night long the princess sat
motionless: she must see her beauty again! she must try again to
think! But courage and will had grown weary of her, and would dwell
with her no more!
In the morning we chose twelve of the tallest and bravest of the
boys to go with us to the palace. We rode our great horses, and
they small horses and elephants.
The princess sat waiting the sun to give her the joy of her own
presence. The tide of the light was creeping up the shore of the
sky, but until the sun stood overhead, not a ray could enter the
black hall.
He rose to our eyes, and swiftly ascended. As we climbed the steep
way to the palace, he climbed the dome of its great hall. He looked
in at the eye of it--and with sudden radiance the princess flashed
upon her own sight. But she sprang to her feet with a cry of
despair: alas her whiteness! the spot covered half her side, and
was black as the marble around her! She clutched her robe, and
fell back in her chair. The Shadow glided out, and she saw him go.
We found the gate open as usual, passed through the paved grove up
to the palace door, and entered the vestibule. There in her cage
lay the spotted leopardess, apparently asleep or lifeless. The
Little Ones paused a moment to look at her. She leaped up rampant
against the cage. The horses reared and plunged; the elephants
retreated a step. The next instant she fell supine, writhed in
quivering spasms, and lay motionless. We rode into the great hall.
The princess yet leaned back in her chair in the shaft of sunlight,
when from the stones of the court came to her ears the noise of the
horses' hoofs. She started, listened, and shook: never had such
sound been heard in her palace! She pressed her hand to her side,
and gasped. The trampling came nearer and nearer; it entered the
hall itself; moving figures that were not shadows approached her
through the darkness!
For us, we saw a splendour, a glorious woman centring the dark.
Lona sprang from her horse, and bounded to her. I sprang from mine,
and followed Lona.
"Mother! mother!" she cried, and her clear, lovely voice echoed in
the dome.
The princess shivered; her face grew almost black with hate, her
eyebrows met on her forehead. She rose to her feet, and stood.
"Mother! mother!" cried Lona again, as she leaped on the daïs, and
flung her arms around the princess.
An instant more and I should have reached them!--in that instant
I saw Lona lifted high, and dashed on the marble floor. Oh, the
horrible sound of her fall! At my feet she fell, and lay still.
The princess sat down with the smile of a demoness.
I dropped on my knees beside Lona, raised her from the stones, and
pressed her to my bosom. With indignant hate I glanced at the
princess; she answered me with her sweetest smile. I would have
sprung upon her, taken her by the throat, and strangled her, but
love of the child was stronger than hate of the mother, and I
clasped closer my precious burden. Her arms hung helpless; her
blood trickled over my hands, and fell on the floor with soft, slow
little plashes.
The horses scented it--mine first, then the small ones. Mine
reared, shivering and wild-eyed, went about, and thundered blindly
down the dark hall, with the little horses after him. Lona's stood
gazing down at his mistress, and trembling all over. The boys flung
themselves from their horses' backs, and they, not seeing the black
wall before them, dashed themselves, with mine, to pieces against
it. The elephants came on to the foot of the daïs, and stopped,
wildly trumpeting; the Little Ones sprang upon it, and stood
horrified; the princess lay back in her seat, her face that of a
corpse, her eyes alone alive, wickedly flaming. She was again
withered and wasted to what I found in the wood, and her side was
as if a great branding hand had been laid upon it. But Lona saw
nothing, and I saw but Lona.
"Mother! mother!" she sighed, and her breathing ceased.
I carried her into the court: the sun shone upon a white face, and
the pitiful shadow of a ghostly smile. Her head hung back. She was
"dead as earth."
I forgot the Little Ones, forgot the murdering princess, forgot
the body in my arms, and wandered away, looking for my Lona. The
doors and windows were crowded with brute-faces jeering at me, but
not daring to speak, for they saw the white leopardess behind me,
hanging her head close at my heel. I spurned her with my foot.
She held back a moment, and followed me again.
I reached the square: the little army was gone! Its emptiness roused
me. Where were the Little Ones, HER Little Ones? I had lost her
children! I stared helpless about me, staggered to the pillar, and
sank upon its base.
But as I sat gazing on the still countenance, it seemed to smile a
live momentary smile. I never doubted it an illusion, yet believed
what it said: I should yet see her alive! It was not she, it was I
who was lost, and she would find me!
I rose to go after the Little Ones, and instinctively sought the
gate by which we had entered. I looked around me, but saw nothing
of the leopardess.
The street was rapidly filling with a fierce crowd. They saw me
encumbered with my dead, but for a time dared not assail me. Ere
I reached the gate, however, they had gathered courage. The women
began to hustle me; I held on heedless. A man pushed against my
sacred burden: with a kick I sent him away howling. But the crowd
pressed upon me, and fearing for the dead that was beyond hurt, I
clasped my treasure closer, and freed my right arm. That instant,
however, a commotion arose in the street behind me; the crowd broke;
and through it came the Little Ones I had left in the palace. Ten
of them were upon four of the elephants; on the two other elephants
lay the princess, bound hand and foot, and quite still, save that
her eyes rolled in their ghastly sockets. The two other Little Ones
rode behind her on Lona's horse. Every now and then the wise
creatures that bore her threw their trunks behind and felt her
cords.
I walked on in front, and out of the city. What an end to the
hopes with which I entered the evil place! We had captured the bad
princess, and lost our all-beloved queen! My life was bare! my
heart was empty!
