Of One Blood

by Pauline Hopkins

  Murmurs of wonder and admiration broke from Reuel’s companions, who were aware of the danger attending the meeting of a hungry lion at close quarters. His admirable intrepidity, and the remarkable powers which were his birthright, had preserved him and his companions.

  “Truly, he is the King!” they murmured among themselves. And more than ever Ai watched him with increasing love and the fondness of a father.

  Without further adventure they reached the portals of the inner city. Their arrival was evidently anticipated, for they were received by a band of young females under the guardianship of a matron. By this escort they were shown to the palace and into the rooms set apart for their reception. Having rested for an hour, bathed and dined, they were ready for the ceremony of introduction. Another guard of women took them in charge, and the procession started down one passage, crossed a great, aisle-like hall, and came to a corresponding passage on the other side. On through seemingly endless colonnades they passed, till they came to a huge door formed of great winged creatures. Reuel had thought that nothing could surpass the palace in the outer city for beauty and luxury, but words failed him as his eyes drank in the glories of the lofty apartment into which they stepped, as an Amazon in silver mail threw wide the glittering doors, disclosing the splendor of the royal Presence-chamber. It was a lofty saloon lined with gilded columns, the sunlight falling from the open roof upon the mosaic floor beneath. The tapestries which lined the walls bore exquisite paintings of love and warfare.

  As the door opened, a voice called. The company halted before a curtained recess, guarded by a group of beautiful girls. Never had Reuel beheld such subtle grace of form and feature, such masses of coal-black hair, such melting eyes of midnight hue. Each girl might have posed for a statue of Venus.

  The heavy curtains were lifted now, and discovered the Queen reclining upon a pile of silken cushions—a statue of Venus worked in bronze.

  “The Queen is here!” exclaimed a voice. In an instant all present prostrated themselves upon the floor. Reuel alone stood erect, his piercing eyes fixed upon the woman before him.

  Grave, tranquil and majestic, surrounded by her virgin guard, she advanced gracefully, bending her haughty head; then, gradually her sinuous body bent and swayed down, down, until she, too, had prostrated herself, and half-knelt, half-lay, upon the marble floor at Reuel’s feet.

  “O Ergamenes, hast thou indeed returned to thine inheritance?” murmured a voice like unto silver chimes. Reuel started, for it seemed to him that Dianthe’s own voice was breathing in his ears.

  Knowing now what was expected of him, he raised the Queen with one hand, addressed her courteously in Arabic, led her to her silken couch, seated himself, and would have placed her beside him, but she, with a gesture of dissent, sank upon the cushions at his feet that had served her for footstools.

  By this time the Sages had risen and now reclined on the silken couches with which the apartment was well supplied. Ai advanced and addressed the Queen; during this exchange of courtesies, Reuel gazed upon her curiously.

  She reminded him strongly of his beautiful Dianthe; in fact, the resemblance was so striking that it was painful, and tears, which were no disgrace to his manhood, struggled to his eyes. She was the same height as Dianthe, had the same well-developed shoulders and the same admirable bust. What suppleness in all her movements! What grace, and, at the same time, what strength! Yes; she was a Venus, a superb statue of bronze, moulded by a great sculptor; but an animated statue, in which one saw the blood circulate, and from which life flowed. And what an expressive face, full of character! Long, jet-black hair and totally free, covered her shoulders like a silken mantle; a broad, square forehead, a warm bronze complexion; thick black eyebrows, great black eves, now soft and languishing—eyes which could weep in sorrow or shoot forth lightning in their anger; a delicate nose with quivering nostrils, teeth of dazzling whiteness behind lips as red as a rose; in her smile of grace and sweetness lurked a sense of power. He was astonished and lost in admiration in spite of himself. Her loveliness was absolutely and ideally perfect. Her attitude of unstudied grace accorded well with the seriousness of her face; she seemed the embodiment of all chastity.

  The maidens of her household waited near her—some of them with baskets of flowers upheld in perfect arms. Some brought fruit in glittering dishes and wine in golden goblets of fairy-like fretwork, which were served from stands of ivory and gold. One maiden knelt at her lyre, prepared to strike its chords at pauses in the conversation.

  The attendants now retired modestly into the background, while Ai and the other Sages conversed with the Queen. She listened with downcast eyes, occasionally casting a curious, though deferential glance at the muscular figure beside her.

  “And dost thou agree, and art thou willing to accept the destiny planned by the Almighty Trinity for thee and me from the beginning of all things, my lord?” she questioned at length in her flute-like voice.

  “Queen Candace, thy beauty and graciousness dazzle me. I feel that I can love thee with all my heart; I will fulfill my destiny gladly, and I will cleave to thee until the end.”

  “Now,” answered the Queen with sweet humility, “now, when thou, my lord, doth speak so royally, it doth not become me to lag in generosity.” She paused.

  Reuel, gazing into her beautiful face, was deeply moved by strong emotions. Again she spoke:

  “Behold! In token of submission I bow to my lord, King Ergamenes.” She bent herself slowly to the ground, and pressed her knees for one instant upon the mosaic floor. “Behold,” and she touched his forehead lightly with her lips, “in earnest of connubial bliss, I kiss thee, King Ergamenes. Behold,” and she placed her hand upon his heart, “I swear to thee eternal fealty by the Spirit—the never-changing Trinity.” This ceremony ended she seated herself once more beside him. Reuel felt himself yielding readily to her infinite attractiveness. In the azure light and regal splendor of the fragrant apartment, there was rest and satisfaction. All the dreams of wealth and ambition that had haunted the feverish existence by the winding Charles, that had haunted his days of obscure poverty in the halls of Harvard, were about to be realized. Only once had he known joy in his checkered life, and that was when he basked in the society of Dianthe, whom he now designated his spirit-bride. The delirium of that joy had ended in lamentation. Doubts and misgivings had assailed him in the silence of the night when Ai had left him and his influence was withdrawn. Then he had but a faint-hearted belief in the wonderful tale told to him, but here, under Queen Candace’s magic influence, all doubts disappeared, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to be sitting here among these descendants of the ancient Ethiopians, acknowledged as their King, planning a union with a lovely woman, that should give to the world a dynasty of dark-skinned rulers, whose destiny should be to restore the prestige of an ancient people.

  Verily, if the wonders he had already seen and heard could be possible in the nineteenth century of progress and enlightenment, nothing was impossible. Dianthe was gone. The world outside held nothing dear to one who had always lived much within himself. The Queen was loving, beautiful—why not accept this pleasant destiny which held its alluring arms so seductively towards him? A sudden moisture filled his eyes; a curious vague softness and tenderness stole over him. Turning abruptly toward his hostess, he held out his own swimming goblet:

  “Drink we a loving cup together, oh Queen Candace!” he said in a voice that trembled with earnestness. “I pledge my faith in return for thine!”

  The Queen returned his ardent gaze with one of bright surprise and joyous happiness, and bending her head, drank a deep draught of the proffered wine.

  “Almost thou lovest me, Ergamenes. May the Eternal Trinity hold fast our bonds!” With a graceful salute she returned the goblet. Reuel drank off in haste what remained within it.

  “Behold! I have prepared against this happy hour,” continued the Queen, and goi
ng to an inlaid cabinet at one side of the room, she took from it a curious ring of dull gold, bearing one priceless gem cut in the form of a lotus lily. “Hold forth thy hand,” she said, and on his finger placed the ring.

  “Thus do I claim thee for all eternity.”

  The Sages had watched the actors in this life-drama with jealous eyes that noted every detail with open satisfaction. At Queen Candace’s last words, Ai extended his arms with the solemn words:

  “And now it is done and never can be undone or altered. Let us hence, that the union may be speedily accomplished.”

  CHAPTER XVII

  IN a month the marriage was to be celebrated with great pomp and rejoicing. Preparations began as soon as the interview between the Queen and the prospective King was over.

  After his return from this betrothal, the power of second sight which seemed to have left Reuel for a time, returned in full force. Restlessness was upon him; Dianthe’s voice seemed ever calling to him through space. Finally, when his feelings became insupportable, he broached the subject to Ai.

  The latter regarded his questioner gravely. “Of a truth thou art a legitimate son of Ethiopia. Thou growest the fruits of wisdom. Descendant of the wise Chaldeans, still powerful to a degree undreamed of by the pigmies of this puny age, you look incredulous, but what I tell you is the solemn truth.”

  “The Chaldeans disappeared from this world centuries ago,” declared Reuel.

  “Not all—in me you behold their present head; within this city and the outer world, we still number thousands.”

  Reuel uttered an exclamation of incredulous amazement. “Not possible!”

  Silently Ai went to his cabinet and took down a small, square volume which he placed in Reuel’s hand. “It is a record of the wisdom and science of your ancestors.”

  Reuel turned it over carefully,—the ivory pages were covered with characters sharply defined and finely engraved.

  “What language is this? It is not Hebrew, Greek nor Sanskrit, nor any form of hieroglyphic writing.”

  “It is the language once commonly spoken by your ancestors long before Babylon was builded. It is known to us now as the language of prophecy.”

  Reuel glanced at the speaker’s regal form with admiration and reverence.

  “Teach me what thou knowest, Ai,” he said humbly, “for, indeed, thou art a wonderful man.”

  “Gladly,” replied Ai, placing his hand in loving tenderness upon the bowed head of the younger man. “Our destiny was foreordained from the beginning to work together for the upbuilding of humanity and the restoration of the race of our fathers. This little book shall teach your soul all that you long to know, and now grasp but vaguely. You believe in the Soul?”

  “Most assuredly!”

  “As a Personality that continues to live after the body perishes?”

  “Certainly.”

  “And that Personality begins to exert its power over our lives as soon as we begin its cultivation. Death is not necessary to its manifestation upon our lives. There are always angels near! To us who are so blessed and singled out by the Trinity there is a sense of the supernatural always near us—others whom we cannot see, but whose influence is strong upon us in all the affairs of life. Man only proves his ignorance if he denies this fact. Some in the country from which you come contend that the foundations of Christianity are absurd and preposterous, but all the prophecies of the Trinity shall in time be fulfilled. They are working out today by the forces of air, light, wind,—the common things of daily life that pass unnoticed. Ethiopia, too, is stretching forth her hand unto God, and He will fulfill her destiny. The tide of immigration shall set in the early days of the twentieth century, toward Afric’s shores, so long bound in the chains of barbarism and idolatry.”

  Reuel listened entranced, scarce breathing.

  “I was warned of your coming long before the knowledge was yours. The day you left your home for New York. I sat within my secret chamber, and all was revealed to me.”

  “Ay, Ai,” Reuel answered, feebly. “But how?”

  “You believe that we can hold communion with the living though seas divide and distance is infinite, and our friends who have passed to the future life of light are allowed to comfort us here?”

  “I believe.”

  “’Tis so,” continued Ai. “Half by chance and half by learning, I long ago solved one of the great secrets of Nature. Life is wonderful, but eternity is more wonderful.” He paused, regarding affectionately Reuel’s troubled face.

  “I will answer thy question presently. But can I do aught for thee? Dost memories of that world from which thou hast recently come disturb thee, Ergamenes? I have some feeble powers; if thou wilt, command them.” Ai fell into the use of “thee” and “thou” always when greatly moved, and Reuel had become very dear to him.

  “I would know some happenings in the world I have left; could my desire be granted, I might, perchance, lose this restlessness which now oppresses me.”

  Ai regarded him intently. “How far hast thou progressed in knowledge of Infinity?” he asked at length.

  “You shall be the judge,” replied Reuel. And then ensued a technical conversation on the abstract science of occultism and the future state.

  “I see thou are well versed,” said Ai finally, evidently well pleased with the young man’s versatility. “Come with me. Truly we have not mistaken thee, Ergamenes. Wonderfully hast thou been preserved and fitted for the work before thee.”

  Reuel had the freedom of the palace, but he knew that there were rooms from which he was excluded. One room especially seemed to be the sanctum sanctorium of the Sages. It was to this room that Ai now conducted him.

  Reuel was nearly overpowered with the anticipation of being initiated into the mysteries of this apartment. He found nothing terrifying, however, in the plain, underground room into which he was ushered. A rough table and wooden stools constituted the furniture. The only objects of mystery were a carved table at one end of the apartment, with a silken cloth thrown over its top, and a vessel like a baptismal font, cut in stone, full of water. Air and light came from an outside source, for there were no windows in the room. After closing the door securely, Ai advanced and removed the cloth from the table. “Sit,” he commanded. “You ask me how I knew of your coming to my land. Lo, I have followed your career from babyhood. Behold, Ergamenes! What would you see upon the mirror’s face? Friend or foe?”

  Reuel advanced and looked upon the surface of a disk of which the top of the table was composed. The material of which the polished surface was composed was unknown to Reuel; it was not glass, though quite transparent; it was not metal, though bright as polished steel.

  Reuel made no wish, but thought of the spot where the accident had occurred upon the River Charles weeks before. He was startled to observe a familiar scene where he had often rowed for pleasure on pleasant summer evenings. Every minute particular of the scenery was distinctly visible. Presently the water seemed to darken, and he saw distinctly the canoe containing Aubrey, Molly and Dianthe gliding over the water. He started back aghast, crying out, “It is magical!”

  “No, no, Ergamenes, this is a secret of Nature. In this disk I can show thee what thou wilt of the past. In the water of the font we see the future. Think of a face, a scene—I will reflect it for thee on this disk. This is an old secret, known to Ethiopia, Egypt and Arabia centuries ago. I can reflect the past and the faces of those passed away, but the living and the future are cast by the water.”

  Reuel was awed into silence. He could say nothing, and listened to Ai’s learned remarks with a reverence that approached almost to worship before this proof of his supernatural powers. What would the professors of Harvard have said to this, he asked himself. In the heart of Africa was a knowledge of science that all the wealth and learning of modern times could not emulate. For some time the images came and went upon the mirro
r, in obedience to his desires. He saw the scenes of his boyhood, the friends of his youth, and experienced anew the delights of life’s morning. Then he idly desired to see the face of his loved Dianthe, as she last appeared on earth. The surface of the disk reflected nothing!

  “You have not reached perfection then, in this reflector?”

  “Why think you so?” asked Ai gravely.

  “I have asked to see the face of a friend who is dead. The mirror did not reflect it.”