CHAPTER XXVIII
IN PRISON
It was with hearts full of the gloomiest forebodings that we returnedto the amir, and these we soon found to be fully justified. Theathalebs descended at that point from which they had risen--namely, onthe terrace immediately in front of the cavern where they had beenconfined. We then dismounted, and Layelah with the Kosekin guardsaccompanied us to our former chambers. There she left us, saying thata communication would be sent to us.
We were now left to our own conjectures.
"I wonder what they will do to us?" said I.
"It is impossible to tell," said Almah.
"I suppose," said I, "they will punish us in some way; but thenpunishment among the Kosekin is what seems honor and reward to me.Perhaps they will spare our lives, for that in their eyes ought to bethe severest punishment and the deepest disgrace imaginable."
Almah sighed.
"The Kosekin do not always act in this matter as one would suppose,"said she. "It is quite likely that they may dread our escaping, andmay conclude to sacrifice us at once."
On the next jom I had a visit from the Kohen Gadol. He informed methat the paupers had held a Council of State, in which they had made aspecial examination of our late flight. He and Layelah had both beenexamined, as well as the Kosekin who had gone after us; but Layelah'stestimony was by far the most important.
The Council of State gathered from Layelah's report that we had fledto Magones for the especial purpose of gaining the most blessed ofdeaths; that she pursued us in the interest of the state; and that weon her arrival had generously surrendered our own selfish desires, andhad at once returned.
We learned that much gratification was felt by the council, and alsoexpressed, at Layelah's account and at our action.
First, at our eager love of death, which was so natural in theireyes; secondly, at the skill which we had shown in selecting Magones;and finally, at our generosity in giving up so readily the blessedprospect of exile and want and death, so as to come back to theamir. Had we been Kosekin our acts would have been natural enough;but, being foreigners, it was considered more admirable in us, and itseemed to show that we were equal to the Kosekin themselves. It wasfelt, however, that in our eager rush after death we had been somewhatselfish; but as this probably arose from our ignorance of the law, itmight be overlooked. On the whole it was decided that we ought to berewarded, and that, too, with the greatest benefits that the Kosekincould bestow. What these benefits were the Kohen Gadol could not say;and thus we were left, as before, in the greatest possible anxiety. Westill dreaded the worst. The highest honors of these men might wellawaken apprehension; for they thought that the chief blessings werepoverty and darkness and death.
Layelah next came to see me. She was as amiable as ever, and showed noresentment at all. She gave me an account of what had happened at theCouncil of State, which was the same as what I had heard from theKohen Gadol.
I asked her why she had made such a report of us.
"To conciliate their good-will," said Layelah. "For if they thoughtthat you had really fled from death from a love of life, they wouldhave felt such contempt for you that serious harm might havehappened."
"Yes," said I; "but among the Kosekin what you call harm wouldprobably have been just what I want. I should like to be viewed withcontempt, and considered unworthy of death and the Mista Kosek, andother such honors."
"Oh yes," said Layelah; "but that doesn't follow; for you see thepaupers love death so intensely that they long to bestow it on all;and if they knew that you were afraid of it, they would be tempted tobestow it upon you immediately, just to show you how delightful athing it is. And that was the very thing that I was trying to guardagainst."
"Well," said I, "and what is the result? Do you know what theirdecision is?"
"Yes," said Layelah.
"What is it?" I asked, eagerly.
Layelah hesitated.
"What is it?" I cried again, full of impatience.
"I'm afraid it will not sound very pleasant to you," said Layelah,"but at any rate your life is spared for the present. They havedecided to give you what they call the greatest possible honors anddistinctions."
Layelah paused, and looked at me earnestly. For my part these wordssounded ominous, and were full of the darkest meaning.
"Tell me all," I said; "don't keep me in suspense."
"Well," said Layelah, "I'm afraid you will think it hard; but I musttell you. I will tell it, therefore, as briefly and formally aspossible.
"First, then, they have decreed the blessing of separation. You andAlmah must now be parted, since this is regarded as the highest blissof lovers.
"Secondly, they have decreed the blessing of poverty. All theseluxuries will be taken away, and you will be raised to an equality inthis respect with the great paupers.
"Thirdly, you are to have the blessing of darkness. You are to beremoved from this troublesome and vexatious light, which here isregarded as a curse, and henceforth live without it.
"Fourthly, the next decree is the high reward of imprisonment. You areto be delivered from the evils of liberty, and shut up in a darkcavern, from which it will be impossible to escape or to communicatewith anyone outside.
"Fifthly, you are to associate with the greatest of the paupers, theclass that is the most honored and influential. You will be present atall their highest councils, and will have the privilege of perpetualintercourse with those reverend men. They will tell you of the joys ofpoverty, the happiness of darkness, and the bliss of death."
Layelah paused, and looked at me earnestly.
"Is there anything more?" I gasped.
"No," said she. "Is not that enough? Some were in favor of bestowingimmediate death, but they were outvoted by the others. You surelycannot regret that."
Layelah's words sounded like the words of a mocking demon. Yet she didnot wish to distress me; she had merely stated my sentence in formallanguage, without any attempt to soften its tremendous import. As forme, I was overwhelmed with despair. There was but one thought in mymind--it was not of myself, but of Almah.
"And Almah?" I cried.
"Almah," said Layelah--"she will have the same; you are both includedin the same sentence."
At this a groan burst from me. Horror overwhelmed me. I threw myselfdown upon the floor and covered my face with my hands. All was lost!Our fate--Almah's fate--was darkness, imprisonment, and death. Couldanything be imagined that might mitigate such woes as these? Couldanything be conceived of as more horrible? Yes; there remainedsomething more, and this was announced by Layelah.
"Finally," said she, "it has been decreed that you shall not only havethe blessing of death, but that you shall have the rare honor ofbelonging to the chosen few who are reserved for the Mista Kosek.Thus far this had not been granted. It was esteemed too high an honorfor strangers; but now, by an exercise of unparalleled liberality, theGrand Council of Paupers have added this, as the last and best, to thehigh honors and rewards which they have decreed for you and Almah."
To this I had nothing to say; I was stupefied with horror. To suchwords what answer could be made? At that moment I could think ofnothing but this tremendous sentence--this infliction of appallingwoes under the miserable name of blessings! I could not think ofLayelah; nor did I try to conjecture what her motives might be in thuscoming to me as the messenger of evil. I could not find space amidmy despair for speculations as to her own part in this, or stop toconsider whether she was acting the part of a mere messenger, or wasinfluenced by resentment or revenge. All this was far away from mythoughts; for all my mind was filled with the dread sentence of theCouncil of Paupers and the baleful prospect of the woes that awaitedus.
On the next jom I saw Almah. She had already learned the awfultidings. She met me with a face of despair; for there was no longerany hope, and all that remained for us was a last farewell. After thiswe parted, and each of us was taken to our respective prison.
I was taken along dark passages until I
came to a cavern with a low,dark portal. Upon entering I found the darkness deeper than usual,and there was only one solitary lamp, which diffused but a feeble raythrough the gloom. The size of the place could not be made out. Isaw here a group of human beings, and by the feeble ray of the lampI perceived that they were wan and thin and emaciated, with scantclothing, all in rags, squalor, misery, and dirt; with coarse hairmatted together, and long nails and shaggy beards. They reminded me intheir personal appearance of the cannibals of the outer shore. Thesehideous beings all gathered around me, blinking at me with theirbleary eyes and grinning with their abominable faces, and then eachone embraced me. The filth, squalor, and unutterable foulness ofthese wretches all combined to fill my soul with loathing, and theinconceivable horror of that embrace wellnigh overwhelmed me. Yet,after all, it was surpassed by the horror of the thought that Almahmight be at that very moment undergoing the same experience; and forher such a thing must be worse than for me.
I retreated as far as possible from them, deep into the thickdarkness, and sat down. No convicted felon at the last hour of life,no prisoner in the dungeons of the Inquisition, ever could havesuffered more mental agony than I did at that moment. The blessings,the awful blessings of the Kosekin were descending upon my miserablehead--separation from Almah, squalor and dirt, imprisonment, thesociety of these filthy creatures, darkness, the shadow of death, andbeyond all the tremendous horrors of the Mista Kosek!
I do not know how the time passed, for at first I was almost stupefiedwith despair; nor could I ever grow reconciled to the society ofthese wretches, scarce human, who were with me. Some food wasoffered me--filthy stuff, which I refused. My refusal excited warmcommendation; but I was warned against starving myself, as that wasagainst the law. In my despair I thought of my pistol and rifle,which I still kept with me--of using these against my jailors, andbursting forth; but this wild impulse soon passed away, for its utterhopelessness was manifest. My only hope, if hope it was, lay inwaiting, and it was not impossible that I might see Almah again,if only once.
Joms passed away, I know not how. The Chief Pauper, who is thegreatest man in the land of the Kosekin, made several attempts toconverse with me, and was evidently very condescending and magnanimousin his own eyes; but I did not meet his advances graciously--he wastoo abhorrent. He was a hideous wretch, with eyes nearly closed andbleary, thick, matted hair, and fiendish expression--in short, a devilincarnate in rags and squalor.
But as the joms passed I found it difficult to repel my associates.They were always inflicting their society upon me, and thrusting on menasty little acts of kindness. The Chief Pauper was more persistentthan all, with his chatter and his disgusting civilities. He wasevidently glad to get hold of a fresh subject for his talkativegenius; he was a very garrulous cannibal, and perhaps my being aforeigner made me more interesting in his eyes.
The chief topic of his discourse was death. He hated life, loveddeath, longed for it in all its forms, whether arising from diseaseor from violence. He was an amateur in corpses, and had a largerexperience in dead bodies than any other man in the nation.
I could not help asking him once why he did not kill himself, and bedone with it.
"That," said he, "is not allowed. The temptation to kill one's self isone of the strongest that human nature can experience, but it is onethat we must struggle against, of course, for it is against all law.The greatest blessing must not be seized. It must be given by natureor man. Those who violate the blessed mystery of death are infamous."
He assured me that he had all his life cultivated the loftiestfeelings of love to others. His greatest happiness consisted in doinggood to others, especially in killing them. The blessing of death,being the greatest of all blessings, was the one which he loved bestto bestow upon others; and the more he loved his fellow-creaturesthe more he wished to give them this blessing. "You," said he, "areparticularly dear to me, and I should rather give to you the blessingof death than to any other human being. I love you, Atam-or, and Ilong to kill you at this moment."
"You had better not try it," said I, grimly.
He shook his head despondingly.
"Oh no," said he; "it is against the law. I must not do it till thetime comes."
"Do you kill many?" I asked.
"It is my pleasing and glorious office," he replied, "to kill morethan any other; for, you must know, I am the Sar Tabakin" (chief ofthe executioners).
The Chief Pauper's love of death had grown to be an all-absorbingpassion. He longed to give death to all. As with us there are certainphilanthropists who have a mania for doing good, so here the pauperclass had a mania for doing what they considered good in this way. TheChief Pauper was a sort of Kosekin Howard or Peabody, and was regardedby all with boundless reverence. To me, however, he was an objectof never-ending hate, abhorrence, and loathing; and, added to this,was the thought that there might be here some equally hideousfemale--someone like the nightmare hag of the outer sea--a tormentand a horror to Almah.
A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder Page 28
