1488064Thoth: A Romance — Chapter XVIJoseph Shield Nicholson

CHAPTER XVI.

THE REVOLT OF NATURE.

At Daphne's request Thoth departed, but as he left her he said with great emphasis—

"Remember that I have spoken the truth, and if thou wilt thou mayest become queen of the earth!"

His words excited her heart to a burning activity, and thought after thought rushed swiftly through her mind. At first she tried to persuade herself that he must have told her incredible fictions, but the more she thought the less she doubted. She had seen enough of Thoth's power to believe to the full in the truth of his narrative. She had seen him with a touch of his staff strike dead the ogress, and she had had abundant proofs of the absolute obedience of his people.

For a time, however, she wondered how a few hundred men could possibly destroy all the nations of the earth. She thought of Thoth and his dread compatriots flying through the air, and discharging missiles on the helpless people beneath; but even with this advantage it seemed to her that numbers must prevail.

She said to herself, "Even Apollo's arm would grow weary of such endless archery;" and then, suddenly, she remembered how the arrows of Apollo had smitten the Greeks before Troy.

Plague and pestilence had been the shafts hurled from his bow. She recalled Thoth's allusion to Apollo, and a dreadful presentiment told her that it was in this manner that the nations of the earth were to be destroyed. In the same moment all the circumstances of Thoth's first appearance in Athens flashed through her mind: she remembered the grim indifference of the false merchants to the plague, and it was but a step to accuse them of bringing with them to Greece this unheard-of destruction. She knew it had been ascribed to poisoned wells, that the like had never been seen before, and she became convinced that Thoth was the originator of this fearful crime.

Then she wept as she thought that perhaps already the whole of the races of Greece had perished. This now became the most urgent object of her inquiry, and she tried to bring back every word, every tone, every gesture of Thoth when he had spoken of returning to Greece.

With all the appearance of truth he promised to restore her, but at the same time he had said she would not wish to remain: he had spoken of allowing her to choose other Grecian maidens to share her fate; but why had he not sent before another expedition after the first had been destroyed?

Certainly the man appeared to have an overpowering passion for her, and under its influence he had seemed to speak the truth; but then she feared he might have coloured his narrative to please her in what seemed to him the best manner.

Was it likely that a being so inhuman in other respects should hesitate at breaking his word, as indeed before he had threatened to do? From the past and present she looked to the future, and she saw at once that there was no time to lose, and that she must decide on a plan of action. But what could one ignorant woman do against the mysterious intelligence arrayed against her? Plan after plan arose, only to be rejected, and she soon became aware that her only hope of defeating these enemies of mankind lay in Thoth's love.

Even here, however, there seemed to be an insuperable difficulty, for she knew now that nothing could ever induce her to return his passion, and she feared that a simulated affection would only hasten her destruction. How could she hope to play on a being gifted with such knowledge and strength of purpose? She dreaded also in her secret heart that by some magical fascination her mind would give way, and that she might be led, in the weakness of a moment, to sacrifice herself to him. She felt still how near she had been to a complete surrender of her whole will to his.

Would she have the strength to resist?

Before Thoth returned, she had worked out her scheme.