The Twilight of the Gods, and Other Tales | Page 4

and jovial aspect, under whose
inspection they were being piled up by a troop of sturdy young
ecclesiastics, the only weapon-bearers among the rabble. Elenko stood
riveted to the ground. Prometheus, to her amazement, rushed forward to
one of the groups with a loud "By all the Gods and Goddesses!"
Following his movements, she saw that the object of his interest was an
enormous dead eagle carried by one of the mob. The multitude, startled
by his cry and his emotion, gazed eagerly at the strangers, and instantly
a shout went up:
"The heathen woman!"
"With a heathen man!"
And clubs began to be brandished, and stones to be picked up from the
ground.
Prometheus, to whom the shouts were unintelligible, looked wistfully
at Elenko. As their eyes met, Elenko's countenance, which had hitherto
been all disdain and defiance, assumed an expression of irresolution. A
stone struck Prometheus on the temple, drawing blood; a hundred
hands went up, each weighted with a missile.
"Do as I," cried Elenko to him, and crossed herself.
Prometheus imitated her, not unsuccessfully for a novice.
The uplifted arms were stayed, some even sank down.
By this time the Bishop had bustled to the front, and addressed a torrent
of questions to Prometheus, who merely shook his head, and turned to

inspect the eagle.
"Brethren," said the Bishop, "I smell a miracle!" And, turning to Elenko,
he rapidly proceeded to cross-examine her.
"Thou wert the priestess of this temple?"
"I was."
"Thou didst leave it this morning a heathen?"
"I did."
"Thou returnest a Christian?"
Elenko blushed fire, her throat swelled, her heart beat violently. All her
soul seemed concentrated in the gaze she fastened on the pale and
bleeding Prometheus. She remained silent--but she crossed herself.
"Who then has persuaded thee to renounce Apollo?"
Elenko pointed to Prometheus.
"An enemy of Zeus, then?"
"Zeus has not such another enemy in the world."
"I knew it, I was sure of it," exclaimed the Bishop. "I can always tell a
Christian when I see him. Wherefore speaks he not?"
"He is ancient, for all his vigorous mien. His martyrdom began ere our
present speech was, nor could he learn this in his captivity."
"Martyrdom! Captivity!" exclaimed the prelate gleefully, "I thought we
were coming thither. An early martyr, doubtless?"
"A very early martyr."
"Fettered and manacled?"

"Behold his wrists and ankles."
"Tortured, of course?"
"Incredibly."
"Miraculously kept alive to this day?"
"In an entirely supernatural manner."
"Now," said the Bishop, "I would wager my mitre and ring that his life
was prolonged by the daily ministrations of yonder fowl that he
caresses with such singular affection?"
"Never," replied Elenko, "for one day did that most punctual bird omit
to visit him."
"Hurrah!" shouted the Bishop. "And now, its mission accomplished, the
blessed creature, as I am informed, is found dead at the foot of the
mountain. Saints and angels! this is glorious! On your knees, ye
infidels!"
And down they all went, the Bishop setting the example. As their heads
were bowed to the earth, Elenko made a sign to Prometheus, and when
the multitude looked up, it beheld him in the act of imparting the
episcopal blessing.
"Tell him that we are all his brethren," said the Bishop, which
announcement became in Elenko's mouth, "Do as I do, and cleave to
thy eagle."
A procession was formed. The new saint, his convert, and the eagle,
rode in a car at the head of it. The Bishop, surrounded by his bodyguard,
followed with the sacred vessels of Apollo, to which he had never
ceased to direct a vigilant eye throughout the whole proceedings. The
multitude swarmed along singing hymns, or contending for the stray
feathers of the eagle. The representatives of seven monasteries put in
their claims for the links of Prometheus's fetters, but the Bishop scouted

them all. He found time to whisper to Elenko:
"You seem a sensible young person. Just hint to our friend that we don't
want to hear anything about his theology, and the less he talks about the
primitive Church the better. No doubt he is a most intelligent man, but
he cannot possibly be up to all the recent improvements."
Elenko promised most fervently that Prometheus' theological
sentiments should remain a mystery to the public. She then began to
reflect very seriously on the subject of her own morals. "This day," she
said to herself, "I have renounced all the Gods, and told lies enough to
last me my life, and for no other reason than that I am in love. If this is
a sufficient reason, lovers must have a different code of morality from
the rest of the world, and indeed it would appear that they have. Will
you die for me? Yes. Admirable. Will you lie for me? No.