Achillas

“ Theodotus is a little old man, whose features are as cramped and wizened as his limbs, except his tall straight forehead, which occupies more space than all the rest of his face. He maintains an air of magpie keenness and profundity, listening to what the others say with the sarcastic vigilance of a philosopher listening to the exercises of his disciples. Achillas is a tall handsome man of thirty-five, with a fine black beard curled like the coat of a poodle. ”

“ Britannus and Rufio posting themselves near the steps at the other side. CAESAR (looking at Pothinus and Ptolemy) . Which is the King? The man or the boy?
POTHINUS. I am Pothinus, the guardian of my lord the King.
Caesar (patting Ptolemy kindly on the shoulder) . So you are the King. Dull work at your age, eh? (To Pothinus) Your servant, Pothinus. (He turns away unconcernedly and comes slowly along the middle of the hall, looking from side to side at the courtiers until he reaches Achillas.) And this gentleman? THEODOTUS. Achillas, the King's general.
CAESAR (to Achillas, very friendly) . ”

“ It was not long before a quarrel arose between Ganymedes and Achillas, which ended in the prompt assassination of the latter, whose functions were at once assumed by his murderer, the war being thereupon prosecuted with renewed vigour. Previous to the death of Achillas, Potheinos had been in secret communication with him, apparently in regard to the possibility of murdering Cæsar and effecting the escape of King Ptolemy and himself from the Palace ere Arsinoe and Ganymedes obtained control of affairs. ”

“ CIV.—The king's friends, who were regents of the kingdom during the minority, being informed of these things, either induced by fear, as they afterwards declared, lest Pompey should corrupt the king's army, and seize on Alexandria and Egypt; or despising his bad fortune, as in adversity friends commonly change to enemies, in public gave a favourable answer to his deputies, and desired him to come to the king; but secretly laid a plot against him, and despatched Achillas, captain of the king's guards, a man of singular boldness, and Lucius Septimius a military tribune to assassinate him. ”

“ Achilles closed the door softly and turned to him. “Tell me, Yaxis, what happened,” he said.
The boy’s face opened dramatically. “I look up—I see Alcie—like that—” his gesture fitted to the room—“He stand in door—all covered mud—blood run—cart broke—no fruit—no hat.” The boy’s hands were everywhere, as he spoke, dispensing fruit, smashing carts and filling up the broken words with horror and a flow of blood. Achilles’s face grew grave. The Greeks were not without persecution in the land of freedom, and his boy had lain all day suffering—while he had been lost in the great house by the lake. ”

“ Achilles nodded. “We help her do that,” he said. “They don’t hurt that good lady.”
His eyes were on the stars, and he lifted his face a little, breathing in the freshness. A swift star shot across the sky, falling to earth, and he pointed with eager finger. The child looked up and caught the falling flash, and they ran a little, as if to follow the leaping of their hearts. Then they went more slowly, and Achilles’s long finger traced the heavens for her—the Greek gods up there in their swinging orbits... the warm, August night of the world. Betty Harris had never known the stars like this. ”

“ Life was busy for Achilles. There were visits to the hospital—where he must not speak to his boy, but only look at him and catch little silent smiles from the bandaged face—and visits to the great house on the lake, where he came and went freely. The doors swung open of themselves, it seemed, as Achilles mounted the steps between the lions. All the pretty life and flutter of the place had changed. Detectives went in and out; and instead of the Halcyon Club, the Chief of Police and assistants held conferences in the big library. But there was no clue to the child!... ”

“ Achilles knew that he had only to lift his hand—to cry out to them, as they sped, and they would turn with leaping wheel. There was not a man, hurrying about his own affairs, who would not gladly stop to gather up the child that was lost. Word had come to Philip Harris—east and west—endless offers of help. But the great car thundered by and Achilles’s glance followed it, sweeping with it—on toward the city and the dull glow of sky. ”

“ So the detectives went back to the city—each with his expensive cigar—cursing luck. And Achilles, after a day or two, followed them. “He will be better without you,” said the surgeon. “You disturb his mind. Let him have time to get quiet again. Give nature her chance.”
So Achilles returned to the city, unlocking the boy’s fingers from his. “You must wait a little while,” he said gently. “Then I come for you.” And he left the boy in the garden, looking after the great machine that bore him away—an unfathomable look in his dark, following eyes. ”

“ Like a great beast it snarled and snorted and stood out and waited the lash—and came to terms, gliding at last, by a touch along the smooth road—the face of Achilles transfigured in a dream.... The Acropolis floated behind him in the haze. The wings of the morning waited his coming and his hands gripped hard on the wheel of the world. Yaxis watched the car as it flashed and floated in the sun and was gone—down the roadway—around the distant corner—out of sight, with its faint triumphant “honk-honk-honk!” ”

“ Alcibiades looked at the vines with happy eyes. “They grow,” he said softly.
Yaxis nodded and produced a pot of forget-me-nots. He had been tending them for three weeks—for Alcie. They bent over the pot, blue with blossoms, talking eager words and little gestures and quick laughs. And Achilles, coming out, smiled at the two heads bending above the plant. Yaxis had been lonely—but now the little laughs seemed to stir softly in the close rooms and wake something happy there.
XXIII ACHILLES HAS A PLAN
The next day, life in the little shop went on as if there had been no break. ”

“ His soul flew wide to meet it. Once more he was swinging along the “Street of the Winds,” his face lifted to the Parthenon on its Acropolis, his nostrils breathing the clear air. Chicago had dropped from him like a garment, his soul rose and floated.... Athens everywhere—column and cornice, and long, delicate lines, and colour of marble and light. He drew a full, sweet breath.
Achilles moved with quick, gliding step, taking orders, filling bags, making change—always with his dark eyes seeking, a little wistfully, something that did not come to them.... It was all so different—this new world. ”

“ Let me ransom him, and look upon him with my eyes, and do thou take the gifts. And the gods grant thee to return safe to thy fatherland."
Then Achilles hastened from his tent, and two comrades with him. First they loosed the horses from the chariot and the mules from the wagon; then they brought in the herald Idæus, and took the gifts. Only they left of them two cloaks and a tunic, wherein they might wrap the dead. And Achilles bade the women wash and anoint the body, but apart from the tent, lest, perchance, Priam should see his son and cry aloud. ”

“ Only, the social groups that had filled it every summer were not there. But there was the Greek boy, in the garden, and Miss Stone, and Philip Harris whirring out at night and sitting on the terrace in the dusk, the light of his cigar glimmering a little, as he watched the Greek boy flung on the ground at his feet, his eyes playing with the stars. He knew them all by name under the skies of Greece. Achilles had taught them to him; and he counted them, like a flock, as he lay on the terrace—rolling out the great Greek names while they girdled the sky above him in a kind of homely chant. ”

“ In terrible wise about Achilles towered the tumultuous wave, and the stream as it beat upon his shield thrust him backward, nor might he avail to stand firm upon his feet. Then grasped he an elm, shapely and tall, but it fell uprooted and tore away all the bank, and stretched over the fair streams with its thick branches, and dammed the River himself, falling all within him; but Achilles, springing forth from the eddy hasted to fly with swift feet over the plain, for he was seized with fear. ”

“ Oh! Achille was an invaluable asset in the governing of this kingdom of France. Achille knew the reason of each and every individual's presence at the petit lever of milor. He knew who was the most likely and most worthy person to fill any post in the country that happened to be vacant, from that of examiner of stars and planets to His Majesty the King down to that of under-scullion in the kitchen of Versailles.
Had he not been the means of introducing Baptiste [Pg 98] Durand to the special notice of M. le Marquis? ”

“ He had been sure he could face them—two of them—three—as many as might be. But the car had swept on, bearing its strangers to the city... and the little house on the plain was still asleep. He had a kind of happy superstition that he was to save the child single-handed. He had not trusted the police... with their great, foolish fingers. They could not save his little girl. She had needed Achilles—and he had held the thread of silken cobweb—and traced it bit by bit to the place where they had hidden her. He should save her! ”

“ Just one clue—the merest clue—and they would run it to earth—like bloodhounds. They chewed the ends of their cigars and waited... and in the garden the boy and his father watched the clouds go by and talked of Athens and gods and temples and sunny streets. Back through the past, carefree they went—and at every turn the boy’s memory rang true. “Do you remember, Alcie—the little house below the Temple of the Winds—” Achilles’s eyes were on his face—and the boy’s face laughed—“Yes—father. That house—” quick running words that tripped themselves—“where I stole—figs—three little figs. ”

“ I go home—with you,” he said simply.
“You must stay till you are strong,” said the father, watching him. “You were hurt, you know. It takes time to get strong.... You remember that you were hurt?”
The words dropped slowly, one by one, and the day drowsed. The sun—warm as Athens—shone down, waiting, while the boy turned slowly on his side... his eyes had grown dark. “I try—remember” His voice was half a whisper, “—but it runs—away!” The eyes seemed to be straining to see something beyond them—through a veil.
Achilles’s hand passed before them and shut them off. “Don’t try, Alcie. ”

“ The boy smiled contentedly and they moved away. Early the next morning he was up before Achilles, calling to him from the garden to hurry and see the flowers before the mist was off them, and showing him, with eager teeth, his own radishes—ready to pull—and little lines of green lettuce that sprang above the earth. “I plant,” said the boy proudly. “I make grow.” He swung his arm over the whole garden.
Achilles watched him with gentle face, following him from bed to bed and stooping to the plants with courteous gesture. It was all like home. ”

“ The white-capped man leaped in and they were off—honking the crowd... heavy drays moved from before them with slow, eternal wheel—the white cap swore softly and leaned forward and urged... and the dark, Greek head bobbed far ahead—along in the crowd—the big, grey racer gathering speed beneath. Achilles was not thinking of the pursuit, yelling behind him—he had no thoughts—only two eyes that held a car far in the distance, and two hands that gripped the wheel and drove hard, and prayed grimly. If his eye lost that car! ”

“ He drew a quick breath. “They bad men—” he said. “Little girl cry!”
Achilles bent forward, holding his breath. “What was it—Alcie?”
The boy’s eyes turned toward him trustingly. “They hurt bad,” he said. “I try—I run—”
“And the little girl—?” suggested Achilles gently. His voice would not have turned the breath of a dream; but Alcibiades wrinkled his forehead.
“She cry—” he said. “She look at me and cry—quick—They hurt that little girl. Yes—she cry—” His eyes closed sleepily. The nurse came forward. ”

“ He arrived the next night, stepping from the car as it drew up before the door, and Alcibiades, standing among the flowers talking with Miss Stone, saw him and started and came forward swiftly. He had not known that his father was coming—he ran a little as he came nearer and threw himself in his arms, laughing out.
Achilles smiled—a dark, wistful smile. “You are grown strong,” he said. He held him off to look at him. ”

“ Ever in memory his feet climbed the steps to the Acropolis or walked beneath stately orange-trees, beating a soft rhythm to the sound of flute and viol. For Achilles was by nature one of the lightest-hearted of children. In Athens his laugh had been quick to rise, and fresh as the breath of rustling leaves. It was only here, under the sooty sky of the narrow street, that his face had grown a little sad. ”

“ Achilles has evidently made up his mind; and cares not a rush for all or any of them. ‘What,’ says the simple man-mountain, ‘the homicide of a brother or child is atoned for by a fine, and yet here is all this to-do about a girl. Aye, and a single girl; when we offer seven of the very best, and ever so much besides.’ Having thus reached the acmè of his arts, he now aims at the friendly feeling of Achilles, and in a single word bids him be placable to men whom he has admitted beneath his roof, and whom he owns for as loyal friends as the whole army could find him. ”