The Twilight of the Gods, and Other Tales | Page 5

Then you
don't love me. [Greek: Ball' eis korakas, eis Tainaron, eis 'Ogg Kogg]."

III
Elenko soon found that there was no pausing upon the path to which
she had committed herself. As the sole medium of communication
between Prometheus and the religious public, her time was half spent in
instructing Prometheus in the creed in which he was supposed to have
instructed her, and half in framing the edifying sentences which passed
for the interpretation of discourses for the most part far more interesting
to herself than if they had been what they professed to be. The rapt and
impassioned attention which she was observed to bestow on his
utterances on such occasions all but gained her the reputation of a saint,
and was accepted as a sufficient set-off against the unhallowed
affection which she could not help manifesting for the memory of her
father. The judicious reluctance of the Caucasian ecclesiastics to
inquire over-anxiously into the creeds and customs of the primitive
Church was a great help to her; and another difficulty was removed by
the Bishop, who, having no idea of encouraging a rival thaumaturgist,
took an early opportunity of signifying that it was rather in the line of
Desmotes (for by this name the new saint passed) to be the subject than

the instrument of miracles, and that, at all events, no more were to be
looked for from him at his time of life. The warmth with which Elenko
espoused this view raised her greatly in his good opinion, and he was
always ready to come to her aid when she became entangled in
chronological or historical difficulties, or seasoned her versions of
Desmotes' speeches with reminiscences of Plato or Marcus Aurelius, or
when her invention failed altogether. On such occasions, if objectors
grew troublesome, the Bishop would thunder, "Brethren, I smell a
heresy!" and no more was said. One minor trouble both to Prometheus
and Elenko was the affection they were naturally expected to manifest
towards the carcase of the wretched eagle, which many identified with
the eagle of the Evangelist John. Prometheus was of a forgiving
disposition, but Elenko wished nothing more ardently than that the
whole aquiline race might have but one neck, and that she might wring
it. It somewhat comforted her to observe that the eagle's plumage was
growing thin, while the eagle's custodian was growing fat.
But she had worse troubles to endure than any that eagles could
occasion. The youth of those who resorted to her and Prometheus
attracted remark from the graver members of the community. Young
ladies found the precepts of the handsome and dignified saint
indispensable to their spiritual health; young men were charmed with
their purity as they came filtered through the lips of Elenko. Is man
more conceited than woman, or more confiding? Elenko should
certainly have been at ease; no temptress, however enterprising, could
well be spreading her nets for an Antony three hundred years old.
Prometheus, on the contrary, might have found cause for jealousy in
many a noble youth's unconcealed admiration of Elenko. Yet he
seemed magnificently unconscious of any cause for apprehension,
while Elenko's heart swelled till it was like to burst. She had the further
satisfaction of knowing herself the best hated woman in Caucasia,
between the enmity of those of whose admirers she had made an
involuntary conquest, and of those who found her standing between
them and Prometheus. Her monopoly of Greek, she felt sure, was her
only security. Two constant attendants at Prometheus's receptions
particularly alarmed her, the Princess Miriam, niece of the Bishop, a
handsome widow accustomed to have things as she wished them; and a

tall veiled woman who seemed unknown to all, but whose unseen eyes,
she instinctively knew, were never averted from the unconscious
Prometheus.
It was therefore with some trepidation that she received a summons to
the private apartment of the Princess Miriam.
"Dear friend," the Princess began, "thou knowest the singular affection
which I have invariably entertained for thee."
"Right well do I know it," responded Elenko. ("The thirty-first lie
to-day," she added wearily to herself.)
"It is this affection, dear friend," continued the Princess, "which
induces me on the present occasion to transgress the limits of
conventional propriety, and make a communication distressing to thee,
but infinitely more so to myself."
Elenko implored the Princess to make no such sacrifice in the cause of
friendship, but the great lady was resolute.
"People say," she continued--
"What say they?"
"That thy relation to Desmotes is indiscreet. That it is equivocal. That it
is offensive. That it is sacrilegious. That, in a word, it is improper."
Elenko defended herself with as much energy as her candour would
allow.
"Dear friend," said the Princess, "thou dost not imagine that I have part