Told by the Death's Head Part 17

"Will you examine this, Sir Knight?" I said in reply--holding the crutch toward him. "You, who are familiar with the Arabic characters, will find here a record of my wanderings--the entire history of my wretched captivity, and miraculous deliverance."

It was the knight's turn to start and tremble. I saw at once from his countenance, that he knew no more about Arabic than--ah--than your honor, and that he was afraid I might betray him, and prove to the mult.i.tude that he had never trod the sacred soil of the Holy Land. The hand he extended for the crutch trembled, but he preserved a bold front, as he turned the bra.s.s-bound shaft around and around in his fingers, and pretended to decipher the oriental characters. After several minutes, he returned the crutch to me and said in an impressive tone:

"This is indeed Arabic--or, rather, Saracenic, the language of Turcomania. Your crutch, devout pilgrim, testifies to the truth of everything you have told these good people. Come with me to my castle, where you will be a welcome and honored guest."

Before he had quite concluded this speech, the bailiff had lost himself in the crowd--he was nowhere to be seen.

I was hoisted to the shoulders of a pair of st.u.r.dy citizens, and, accompanied by the shouting mult.i.tude, borne in triumph to the Templars' castle, situated on a moat-encircled hill, a little distance from the city.

Here, I was committed to the care of the guards on duty; they stripped me of my rags; lifted me into a vat of water, scrubbed me thoroughly, combed and shaved my head, and then put on me a scarlet habit of coa.r.s.e cloth, which, to judge from its ample proportions, must once have garbed the form of a brother whose conditions of life had been more fortunate than mine.

Attired thus, I was conducted to the refectory, where the red-bearded knight and twelve of his companions were a.s.sembled.

"_Quadraginta tonitrua_, lad, you please me well!" exclaimed the red-bearded knight, who seemed to be the leader. "Never, in all my life, have I ever heard so glib a tongue at lying as yours! You must stop here with us. The devil has taken our sacristan--that's his habit you've got on--he died of small-pox yesterday."

You may imagine my feelings when I heard that I was wearing the garment of a man that had succ.u.mbed to so loathsome a disease!

I made bold to say that I had never learned the duties requisite to the office of a sacristan.

"_Per septem archidiabolos!_" merrily exclaimed the knight. "I believe you. But, we will instruct you--never fear!"

Here he noticed the iron band on my neck and added: "Ha, _Lucifer te corripiat_! Why do you wear that curious band around your neck?"

In reply I stammered something about a solemn vow, whereupon the entire company burst into hearty laughter.

"_Ut Belsebub te submergat in paludes inferni, trifurcifer!_" bawled the red knight. "Either you wear the band in pursuance of a vow--solemn or otherwise--or it was forged on your neck in punishment for a theft. If the former, then continue to wear it to the end of your days; if the latter, then we have an armorer who will relieve you of it in short order."

To this I made answer:

"Though I wear the iron band because of a solemn vow, the Sir Knights may believe it is in punishment for a theft."

The merry company laughed again, and the armorer was summoned at once to relieve me of the uncomfortable collar.

BAPHOMET.

I now believed I had ultimately attained what I most desired--a comfortable position in a religious house, where I might pa.s.s the remainder of my days in peace, and free from care. I should have no further need to trouble about providing for food and drink, and the where to lay my head. My duties were light; I had to ring the bell for prayers three times daily; keep clean the church vessels, and take care of all the vestments. All my time not occupied with these simple tasks, I was permitted to devote to pious contemplation. I soon won the confidence of Knight Elias, the red-bearded superior. I was named Eliezer. It had taken me six months and more to beg my way through Poland, consequently, Pa.s.sion week began soon after my arrival at the Templars' castle. I was apprehensive that I should not be able adequately to perform the duties requisite for my office during the solemn season, as I was not yet sufficiently familiar with the Roman Catholic service, having only lately become a neophite. But, when I confided my doubts to Knight Elias, he replied encouragingly:

"Don't you worry, Frater Eliezer, every night during the coming week we shall rehea.r.s.e scenes from the 'Pa.s.sion Play,' which will make you familiar with the services expected of you."

This a.s.surance gave me confidence, and I looked forward with impatience to Maundy-Thursday, as on the evening of that day the preparations for the devotional ceremonies were to begin.

Maundy-Thursday arrived. In the evening, after I had closed and locked the gates after vespers, Knight Elias bade me take a lamp, go to the chapel, and wait there until the clock struck the hour of midnight, when I should hear three taps on the door of the crypt. I was to open the door without delay, receive with becoming respect the guests who would appear, and obey every order they might give me. I did not betray the astonishment I felt on receiving this very singular behest.

I never was what may be termed "faint-hearted." I dare say because my curiosity always was superior to my timidity; and I confess I was most curious to see what manner of guests would come out of the crypt.

The last stroke of twelve was followed by three raps on the crypt door. I hastened to open it, and was amazed to find the stairway leading to the tomb brilliantly lighted, and mounting it were a half dozen or more female forms, clad in antique costumes--such as are seen only in the canvases adorning the walls of churches and royal palaces.

All the women were highly rouged and powdered; one had her eyebrows penciled with black; another with minium, and another had hers tinted with gold. All carried in their hands gaily colored wax tapers. They were not in the least like the ghosts I had expected to see; and I was not in the least frightened of them either!

Young blood coursed through my veins then, and it flowed more swiftly when my eyes rested on the beautiful visitors--even though they were denizens of another world!

The ghosts saw at once that it was not the old sacristan who had admitted them; and believed it necessary to introduce themselves. The first one said:

"I am Jezebel, wife of King Ahab. Fetch the baptismal basin, I want to perform my ablutions."

The second announced:

"I am Salome, daughter of Herodias. Bring me the golden ciborium."

The third said:

"I am Bathsheba. Bring the sacred oil, I want some for my hair."

The fourth:

"I am Delilah. Bring a chalice, I want a drink."

The fifth:

"I am Ashtoreth. Bring the censer, I want some perfume."

"I am Tamar," announced the sixth. "Bring a lachrymatory, I want to fill it with my tears."

There were seven in the company. The seventh had on her head a crown, and was clad in a robe of gold-brocade with a long train. "I am Mylitta, Queen of Sheba," she announced in a voice that sounded like a sweet-toned bell. "Bring me the pyx."

Now, although the rest of the orders had confounded me with their impiety, I had obeyed them, because I had been commanded to do so.

This last, however, made me hesitate; I could not lay sacrilegious hands on so holy a vessel.

I shuddered, and looked with horrified eyes at the commanding phantom.

Suddenly, she lifted her arm, and gave me a sound blow on the back, at the same time screaming:

"Don't you hear me, dolt? I want the pyx." Feeling convinced that further hesitation to obey this visitant from another world would not be well for me, I went to the altar, and with a violently trembling hand lifted the sacred vessel from its accustomed place and brought it to the lady.

"Now, follow us," she commanded; and the procession from the crypt pa.s.sed on, I following in the rear, out of the chapel, up a winding staircase, to a part of the castle I had not yet been in. We halted in front of a gilded iron door; it opened in response to three raps, and I saw into a long, magnificently furnished saloon. There were no windows in it; a mysterious radiance shone from the niches in the walk, which were hung with gold-embroidered silk.

As we crossed the threshold, a heavy curtain across the further end of the saloon parted, and several male figures, garbed in old-time costumes--Turkish, Roman, Persian, Chaldean and Egyptian--came to meet the women, who greeted them thus:

"Welcome, Ahasuerus!"

"Baal greets you, Nebuchadnezzar!"

"Osiris, bless you, Pharaoh!" and so on, to Herod, Pilate, Nero, Sardanapalus--in all of whom I recognized my sir knights. My red-bearded patron answered to the name of Judas Iscariot. It was a distinguished company!

The greetings between the knights and the ladies ever, my patron turned toward me. I was standing near the door--and said:

"Malchus, come hither."

I looked around to see who Malchus might be, but finding no one near me, guessed that I too had been given a name suitable for the occasion--that of the chief priests' servant, who lifted his hand against the Savior.