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As he did so, Gnulemah crouched before him, holding out her hands like a suppliant. An on-looker might have fancied that the would-be God had found his worshipper at last! "My name is Balder," his Deityship managed to say. As he spoke, the sun rounded the corner of the house, and the light fell brightly on him, Gnulemah kneeling in shadow.
He leant against the window-frame and gazed out into the black storm. Knowing what he now did, it required no great stretch of ingenuity to unravel Manetho's secret. He turned to Gnulemah, and, taking her in his arms, kissed her with a defiant kind of ardor. "What is it?" she whispered, clinging to him with a reflex of his own unspoken emotion. "We are safe!
To the right, round the northern corner of the house, he could see far off the white tops of the blossoming apple-trees; and beyond, the river. The orchard perfume came riding on the untamed breeze, and whispered a fragrant secret in the young man's ear. Orchardward he pursued his search. As he went on, Gnulemah grew every moment nearer.
He pointed to the mummy of old Hiero Glyphic, the aspect of which might have left a bad taste in the mouth of Joy herself. Balder shrugged his shoulders. "It matters little, perhaps, where the seed is sown, so that the flower reach the sunshine at last. But your mummy is an ill-favored wedding-guest, whatever honor we may owe the man who once lived in it. I would, not have Gnulemah "
"Yours, also?" continued the other, addressing Gnulemah with an involuntary deference that surprised her lover. She complied, as a princess to her subject. This incident seemed to indicate their position relatively to each other. Had the wily Egyptian played the slave so well, as finally in good earnest to have become one?
"My darling, you do not know what wrong he has done you and others. It is only justice that he should learn how God punishes such as he!" "Will not God teach him?" said Gnulemah, trembling to oppose the man she loved, yet by love compelled to do so. Balder paused, and looked towards the bed. There was a flickering smile on Manetho's face; he seemed to be reviving.
Gnulemah, withered, stifled, and degraded by some unmentionable curse, might have become a thing not unlike this woman. "Have we met before, madam?" asked Helwyse, impelled to the question by what he took for a bewildered recognition in her eye. She moved her lips, but made no audible answer.
Barring this, it only remains to relieve somewhat the monotony of our food, by variety in the modes of dishing it up. Balder had been no whit disconcerted at the priest's abrupt evanishment. The divine sphere of Gnulemah had touched him with its sweet magnetism, and he was sensible of little beyond it. Their hands greeted like life-long friends.
Suddenly he was conscious through Gnulemah of the same shiver that had visited her in the conservatory that morning. Looking round, he was startled to see, beyond the near benison of her sumptuous face, the tall form of the Egyptian priest. He was not a dozen yards away, advancing slowly towards them. Balder sprang up. "Our chain, you have broken it!" exclaimed Gnulemah.
But though she seems to speak, her voice never reaches me; and she smiles, but only when I smile; and mourns only when I mourn. We can never reach each other; but there is more in her than in my birds and flowers." "She is the shadow of yourself; no reality, Gnulemah."
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